A story that connects: Indian memory, humanity, and the future.
My bond with Indonesia is deeply rooted in both love and loss. My parents and I were born there. It is the country where my family history began, but also the country where deep wounds were inflicted.

My parents grew up in difficult circumstances. My mother lived in an orphanage from the age of eleven. My father was born out of wedlock, without recognition, without ever knowing his biological father. After his repatriation, he had to start all over again, eventually raising a family of five children, and became a technical specialist and chief inspector at the Command Center for measurement and control technology of the Amsterdam gas network.

Only when he was ninety did the truth come to light: who his father was, a Dutchman, a high-ranking civil servant and agricultural engineer. A man of status and influence, yet absent from his son's life.

When he was only three years old, he was separated from his mother because Julia got married, but her husband refused to accept her son. The child became the problem, a past that people would rather erase than embrace.

What sounds like a poignant personal story today was, for many at the time, an invisible tragedy: raw, painful, and human. A drama that took place behind front doors, but left deep scars for generations.

And this history is not unique. During the post-war diaspora, more than 300,000 Indo-Dutch people left Indonesia for the Netherlands. Many also found new lives in countries like the United States, Australia, Canada, Spain, and Portugal. But behind these migration figures lie countless life stories, of loss, uprootedness, and children who grew up with questions that remained unanswered for decades.

This past is marked by pain and loss. And yet, something special remained: My father never lost his love for the Indonesian people, despite his difficult childhood circumstances, the Japanese concentration camp, his imprisonment in Glodok prison and the Bersiap period during which he lost his daughter Ilse.

He continued to believe in humanity, even after everything that had been done to him. I carry that belief with me. Based on this history, and inspired by the wish of my wife, who passed away far too early, I founded the KIDS in Dire Straits Foundation. Not out of guilt, but out of love. Love for children living in vulnerable situations today, regardless of background or faith. We believe that where suffering has occurred, healing can also occur. Together with donors, sponsors, mosques, churches and funds, we want to not only help children survive, but also offer them perspective, dignity and a future.

Your involvement makes the difference
By sharing responsibility, we demonstrate that compassion, faith, and humanity are still a significant force today.

What my father began with his heart, I wish to continue with my hands.