His name is Raka, 43 years old. A father of three young kids.
Once, he was a star in his industry—twenty years of experience, leading multi-billion projects, respected and well-known.
But for the past three years, life has been stuck at a red light.
He calls himself a “professional unemployed.”
He had applied for jobs 818 times.
And 818 times, he was rejected—or worse, left hanging without a reply.
Every morning, he still dressed up neatly. His shirts ironed, his shoes polished until they shone.
His children saw him leave for “work” with a forced smile.
But in truth, he only rode his old motorcycle to a small café with free Wi-Fi.
In the farthest corner of the café, he opened his old laptop.
Scrolling through job postings, rewriting his CV for the hundredth time.
But often, his fingers stopped over the keyboard, staring blankly at the screen.
Not because he lacked ideas, but because his wallet could only afford one black coffee and the ride home.
At home, things weren’t any easier.
His wife had stopped working, their savings were gone.
Last month, they had to choose—pay the electricity bill or buy baby formula.
Their eldest child was about to start school, but their bank account was almost empty.
At night, Raka sat quietly on the porch.
Listening to crickets, while his wife whispered:
“Mas, when will our life go back to the way it used to be?”
He just stared at the night sky.
Afraid that if he opened his mouth, the tears would fall.
One night, he wrote to a friend:
“I’m tired.”
But the next morning, he still got up.
Still wore his shirt.
Still turned on his motorcycle.
Because at home, three little pairs of eyes needed to see their father strong.
And then came application no. 819.
This time, it wasn’t a local company that replied.
But a foreign company.
They didn’t ask his age.
They didn’t care about the three-year career gap.
They only looked at his work.
And they accepted him—offering a higher position, triple the salary, and benefits that finally let him breathe again.
Raka ended his story with a voice that trembled, but his eyes were shining.
“Application no. 819 got accepted.
Not by a local company that loves posting about diversity & inclusion.
But by a foreign company that doesn’t even use the tagline ‘open-minded.’
They didn’t ask why I was over 40.
They only asked what I could do.
And they paid me what I was worth.”
He gave a bittersweet smile.
“Maybe it’s true—sometimes, to be valued, you have to go somewhere else.”
And for everyone still fighting, he left one message:
“Don’t give up.
Maybe your 819th application will be the one that changes everything.”
Image by Manuel Alvarez from Pixabay
