Earlier this year, I visited Munir’s grave in Batu. Afterward, I returned to Malang soaking wet, as the relentless rain drenched the city. To avoid the traffic jams that choke Malang from Junrejo to Blimbing, I took the back roads, though they were crowded with people chasing takjil for iftar. Still, the back route was better than the gridlock on the main roads.
As I rode, I stayed alert, mindful that my motorcycle tires were wearing thin. My mother’s warnings echoed in my mind: “If you push it too far, trouble will find you.” While descending a hill, I noticed a group inspecting a plot of empty land visible from the road. Suddenly, a loud explosion startled me, my mind flashing to thoughts of military drills. But no—it was something else entirely.
Curious, I stopped to watch. What I saw was unsettling: dozens of students from campus X engaged in what they called ordik (student orientation), which felt more like a mock civil war. A senior barked at a fellow student, forcing him to roll in the mud for refusing to comply. The sight disgusted me. Instead of fostering creativity and critical thinking, these seniors were indulging in abusive power plays under the guise of tradition.
In my view, students don’t need this kind of military-style indoctrination. Ospek, the orientation program for new students, has devolved into an excuse for seniors with hollow minds to torment their juniors. I’ve despised Ospek since my own school days. It’s a pretty word for the campus but miserable for the freshmen, especially women, who are often humiliated with senseless tasks like rolling in the mud or answering absurd questions.
For nearly half an hour, I observed this pathetic display of moral degradation. What mentality were they trying to build? Will this training help students when their thesis gets rejected? Will it protect them from depression when they face harassment on campus? The whole thing seemed pointless and cruel.
Shivering, I continued my journey and met a friend who’s finishing his master’s degree in law at Brawijaya University. I shared what I’d seen, expecting him to offer a different perspective. But his answer only deepened my disillusionment. He, too, justified it as “mental development.” How foolish.
In reality, there’s no need for these violent ordik rituals to build character. A simple pattern of meaningful discussion would suffice. Yet, these seniors continue to impose their absurd traditions, blind to the harm they’re causing.
Imagine freshmen, some orphans, who come to campus hoping to learn, only to be broken down further by this so-called mental development. Where’s the common sense? You’re destroying students who were already fragile, reducing them to a state of humiliation. Some hold back tears while others laugh nervously, trying to blend in. And those more sensitive to depression? They suffer silently under the weight of their seniors’ stupidity.
If the goal is to help students become confident and outspoken, why not organize discussion forums? Let them speak their minds in front of their peers—laughter and camaraderie will naturally follow. That’s how they’ll learn to navigate social and academic life. I’ve seen it work elsewhere.
In the US, orientation committees foster idealism through discussions on finance, consulting, sexual harassment, and social issues—nothing like the nonsense I witnessed. In the Netherlands, students are guided through historical tours and introduced to campus facilities, all in a friendly, supportive environment. But here in Malang, the ospek committees are too busy imitating superficial aspects of foreign orientations, missing the substance entirely.
In my opinion, the ospek tradition in Indonesia—especially on Malang campuses—is nothing more than a pretentious show. The seniors feel powerful when they shout orders, but they’re empty inside, struggling to complete their own assignments and theses. It reminds me of Raffy Azzami’s critiques in his book “Guide to Fighting Schools,” where he rails against the meaningless rules enforced by these committees, such as requiring students to cut their hair like soldiers. Even in this advanced era, some campuses still judge students by their appearance rather than their intellect.
The incident at Unitri, as reported by detik.com, illustrates this absurdity. A new student was barred from entering campus because his hair was deemed too long, and the committee even tried to shave it by force. Ridiculous.
From what I witnessed during that ordik event, I can confidently say it was a disgusting display of misguided tradition. While some campuses have begun banning these practices, many still cling to them under the leadership of narrow-minded seniors. They believe that by mimicking military training, they’re toughening students up. In reality, they’re only causing harm, leading some students to fall ill or spiral into depression.
To my fellow freshmen, I urge you to speak up. Demand a more humane, thoughtful approach to orientation—one that fosters creativity and intellect, not fear and submission. Don’t let this tradition of violence flourish any longer.
I leave you with the words of Widji Thukul:
“When proposals are rejected without consideration,
When voices are silenced and criticism is forbidden,
When you’re accused of subversion for speaking out—
There is only one word left: Resist!”
Editing/Copy editing by AK, Omong-Omong Media Special English Editor