Writing Against the Sky: Thirteen Women from Bandung Turn Restlessness into Resistance

As Bandung grows into a more vibrant literary ecosystem, public spaces do not always offer a safe environment for women. There are invisible boundaries—geographical, cultural, familial—creating parameters for how freely a woman can speak, imagine or disagree.

Beneath all this is a story which has been untold too long, a story of the body, about fear, about imbalances of power that have persisted for years. There are women walking carrying their experiences, often in silence, sometimes even buried for decades.

That is until one day someone finally asks: “Would you like to write it down?”.

This straightforward question started the anthology Perempuan yang Menulis Langit dari Bandung; resistance of a deeply personal kind. This short story anthology collected by thirteen women under Sindikasi Aksara grew out of restlessness: restlessness that refuses to subside, and that is often regarded as unimportant.

It started with something basic: conversation. Those being shared with a friend and then were written down by the writer. With writing, they could reclaim something they had been denied for so long.

“Because writing is an act of rebellion,” the anthology say, in a low voice and a blunt but unmistakably clear one.

Foggy FF, the producer and contributor to the anthology, remembers the moment this project transformed from an ambition into a necessity. She and Tiwi Kasavela—historian and literacy advocate—came together around women’s issues, not knowing at first what sort of collaboration they would have; only sensing that silence had gotten to be way too long. Bolstered by the knowledge that while Bandung’s literary communities are flourishing, not so much of that energy has made its way into books.

“Maybe because, as women, we’ve felt so much injustice from the start of our lives,” Foggy said. “Such restlessness… It needs a place.”

That place became fiction.

The thirteen writers—Foggy FF, Tiwi Kasavela, Nuzulia Purwanto, Nurlailah, Ranti Amalia Putri, Suci Atmarani, Salma Nur Fauziyah, Ginaya Keisya, Lupita Lestari, Lisa Nurjanah, Kania, Vina Melisk, Ahlan Sukma—are from a diverse background. Some are used to writing poetry. Some write essays. Others had never attempted any fiction.

Yet every one holds stories informed by the respective contexts of gender, city and social expectation.

One page of writing can be a more critical space than any live debate on campus, a woman in “Mahasiswa Kok Gitu,” a Salma Nur Fauziyah piece, writes. In “Avatar,” Lupita Lestari finds another woman juggling work and domestic obligations as if one were navigating a complicated situation that others don’t notice. Quiet resilience surfaces in “Nur” by Ahlan Sukma, about a street sweeper who gains strength through small moments, and in “Sasmita” by Ginaya Keisya, about a woman writing herself out of the shadows that keep her down.

Emotional exhaustion is depicted in “Dari Jubah Ini Aku Bicara” by Ranti Amalia Putri, and “Di Balik Tak Berceritanya Laki-Laki,” by Nurlailah, shows that silence from a husband can cause deep wounds. Finding strength in your loss is the central theme of “Rumah Tanpa Atap” by Nuzulia Purwanto, and that struggle when faced with the question of the way to go out is what makes up “Luka Kebebasan” by Tiwi Kasavela and it’s a story about a girl rejecting a future she never chose.

Night highlights another truth: exhaustion, in Suci Atmarani’s “Selamat Malam,” a moment of honesty. Myth and memory, in “Rawallangi, Gadis Penunggang Angin,” Foggy FF, a girl who chases the wind while the sea guards her stories.

In “Musim Bahagia,” by Lisa Nurjanah, a woman follows memories of her mother like seasons with their own traces, and “Sayap Cakrawala,” by Kania, a woman who makes her own paths when her family will not acknowledge her dreams. Last but not least, in Vina Melisk’s “Pukul Setengah Tiga Dini Hari,” a woman is in flashback mode — at a time when the truths will come to her most easily, only a mere moment of illumination is required, after she takes a trip back to herself.

This anthology’s power comes from the array of voices—how those voices, expressed by each writer from her own vantage point, are about discomfort. The trauma itself is also expressed with the personal aspect of experience, and every story makes room for both. Realism and imagination are used to question power structures. The body is construed not as an object, but as memory and significance.

Each story has its own personality: some authoritative, some placid. Combined, they sketch a sky rewritten by women who won’t allow their stories to be forgotten.

What these thirteen stories eventually contain is not a singular voice but a constellation, women from diverse backgrounds, who have different desires, courage, silences and strategies for survival.

But to grasp this book’s trajectory, it feels incomplete absent acknowledgment of Sindikasi Aksara, a self-sustaining literary collective that has helped Bandung develop literature. Formed by Indra Wardhana, Deni Rahman, Tiwi Kasavela and Foggy FF, the collective brings together people who live through books: founders of free libraries, bookstore managers, journalists and writers who see reading as cultural labor.

And in this environment, the women who made the anthology found the bravery to translate the discomfort they felt into stories. Every process taught them about their own voice, a certain way of writing, about themselves—and, most of all, about the power of collaboration, that art form that often doesn’t have room.

This book depicts Sindikasi Aksara, who operates as part of a collective, aware entity, a group who thinks that literature has the most power within a collective. They envision a greater number of spaces, real as well as imaginary, where women have license to speak openly.

Because they know that’s where resistance begins, and where it matters, most of all: in the written word.

Through Perempuan yang Menulis Langit dari Bandung, 165 pages, paperback, published by Langgam Pustaka, these women have put their names in that sky, clearly and boldly.