ROMI PERBAWA first attended a horse race in Sumbawa in mid 2010, on an invitation from a friend. At various times in its history, this large Indonesian island, rich in natural resources, was coveted and conquered by an array of the powers that left their marks on South East Asia, from the Javanese to the Japanese. Among its historical exports, it counted sandalwood, honey, sappanwood and horses. Today, the island is poor, and the country’s leaders in Jakarta, some 1,500 kilometres due west, pay it little mind. But the tradition of breeding horses, and racing them, still runs strong.
From his first race, Perbawa recalled the thousands of spectators, the feverish gambling, the “dust flying in the racing arena” as horses and riders pounded across a dry racetrack. While he photographed the event, Perbawa said, a jockey fell off a speeding mount right before him, and lay on the ground “moaning in pain.” The injured rider was no more than ten years old. That moment convinced Perbawa to make a documentary project about the child jockeys in Sumbawa. He has been photographing them since.
On Sumbawa, Perbawa said, “a child will learn to ride a horse at the age of about five years.” Only small boys race horses here, and on the nearby island of Sumba. Rebecca Henschke, a filmmaker who shot a 2013 documentary on the phenomenon, explained that “the lighter the jockey, the better the chances of winning the prize money up for grabs.” The jockeys’ families are most often desperately poor, and a child in the races can earn good money. Jockeys compete multiple times a day, earning something in the vicinity of $5 for every race and more for any wins. (Indonesia’s minimum wage, for those who can find employment, is about $50 a week.) Falling, Perbawa said, “is a risk that they face daily.”
The races occur at least ten times a year, Perbawa said, for at least ten days at a time, and children are pulled out of school to compete. The jockeys wear little to no protection; helmets, if used, are rudimentary at best. Henschke was told of boys breaking their legs; Perbawa said two jockeys he knew died following falls. The gambling that feeds the sport is unregulated and illegal, but, Henschke said, despite “jockeying’s dangers and the fact that it violates national laws, local officials are reluctant to shut it down.” An elected regional official she spoke to “says he has asked race organisers to pay more attention to the children’s safety and pay them decent fees. But he says stopping the practice is not an option.”
Perbawa shoots in black-and-white. The stark contrasts of the medium, he said, reflect those the jockeys face: the glory of victory, and the “poverty that shackles their families.” He has an enduring interest in the boys’ future, and travels to Sumbawa often from his base in Surabaya, Indonesia’s second-largest city. He published a book of photographs last year, titled Stormy Riders, to draw attention to their plight, and has donated all proceeds from it to help educate child jockeys. He plans to continue his project, and wants to document how these children transition into adult life. “I want to be a witness,” he said.