From Java to Singapore: The Fugitive's Journey (Fiction)
By Akang and the Robots
I didn’t write this story. A few days ago, my dad expressed his skepticism on the idea that ChatGPT can write stories. So I demonstrated to him that it can by having the robot write this story. I decided to put this out because I thought it was kind of funny. Since this is just for fun, don’t take it seriously. Also, don’t expect Akang and the Robots to make any more appearances after this.
This is the prompt:
Write a story about a Javanese peasant going to Singapore and then he was arrested for littering. The story then shifts to his escape from prison and ends with him going on a boat to Batam.
-Michael P. Marpaung
From Java to Singapore: The Fugitive's Journey
Sutopo had never left his village in Central Java before. His life was simple—tending to his family's rice fields, feeding the chickens, and visiting the warung for coffee and fried cassava. But when his cousin in Batam told him there was work in Singapore, he decided to take a chance.
He sold his old motorbike, took a ferry to Batam, and from there, crossed into Singapore using a borrowed passport. The city was unlike anything he had ever seen—glass towers touching the sky, clean streets where not a single leaf was out of place, and an MRT system that moved people like magic.
But Sutopo was not prepared for Singapore’s strict laws.
On his first day, he bought a packet of peanuts from a street vendor in Chinatown. As he walked along, enjoying the salty taste, he casually tossed a peanut shell onto the pavement. Within seconds, a uniformed officer appeared, his face stern.
"You are under arrest for littering."
Sutopo barely understood what was happening. He tried to apologize, to explain that in his village, peanut shells and banana leaves were part of nature. But the officer didn't care. Within hours, Sutopo found himself in a small cell, awaiting deportation.
But fate had other plans.
The Great Escape
In the dead of night, as the guards switched shifts, Sutopo noticed a loose vent near the ceiling of his cell. He climbed onto the metal bedframe and pried it open with his bare hands. His fingers bled as he crawled through the narrow, suffocating tunnel, each movement slow and deliberate.
When he finally emerged, he found himself in the back alley of a hawker center. He stole a cap from a clothesline, pulled it low over his face, and walked fast but steady, blending into the crowd.
He needed to get out of Singapore before sunrise.
Escape to Batam
Sutopo remembered his cousin’s words: "If anything happens, find a way back to Batam."
He made his way to the harbor, avoiding the MRT stations swarming with security cameras. He found a small fishing boat docked at a quiet pier. The captain, a wiry Malay man with a cigarette dangling from his lips, squinted at him.
"You pay?"
Sutopo reached into his pocket—only a few crumpled Singapore dollars remained. He hesitated, then took off his watch, an old Seiko given by his father.
The captain grunted. "Okay. Sit down."
As the boat drifted into the open sea, Sutopo let out a deep breath. The bright lights of Singapore faded behind him, replaced by the dark expanse of water.
He had escaped. But what now?
The boat rocked gently as it made its way to Batam, the distant coastline appearing like a shadow against the horizon. Tomorrow, he would return to Java.
He had no money. No job. No plan.
But at least he was free.
I hope you have the first (and hopefully only) appearance of Akang and the Robots. Here’s the link to the conversation in ChatGPT. And here’s the AI-generated image on NightCafe.
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New style of writing?