Long ago, in the coastal village of Riau, there lived a young fisherman named Awang Garang. Though his primary livelihood came from fishing, he was also known for his exceptional skills in shipbuilding. He frequently lent a hand to his fellow villagers, helping them construct new boats with remarkable precision. His expertise in both fishing and craftsmanship made him highly regarded, and soon, word of his talents spread far and wide, with many seeking his assistance.
One day, the Sultan of Riau, determined to add a grand ship to his fleet, commanded his soldiers to build one that would be the pride of the kingdom. The soldiers worked tirelessly, day and night, pouring all their effort into the ship. But despite their hard work, the vessel remained incomplete, constantly plagued by structural failures. No matter how much they tried, the ship seemed destined for ruin.
Fearful that the Sultan would be enraged by their failure, the soldiers grew desperate. In a last-ditch attempt, they sought out Awang Garang, hoping his expertise would save them. Upon seeing the ship, Awang Garang quickly identified the issue. He knew exactly what needed to be done to fix the ship and complete it to perfection.
He looked at the ship with a knowing glance and said, "You must use three different kinds of wood to construct it."
His words proved to be true! The ship, once built with the proper materials, became stronger than anyone had anticipated. The soldiers, eager to prove themselves and finish the Sultan’s commission, worked with newfound determination. However, as they raced to complete the task, tragedy struck. While working on the ship, a hammer slipped from a soldier's hand and struck Awang Garang in his right eye. The pain was excruciating, and in a fit of anger, Awang Garang yelled in fury. His words rang out like an ancient curse:
“I curse you, ship! You will never sail on the sea!”
Fuming with rage and unable to see from his injured eye, Awang Garang stormed off and made his way home. His right eye was left blind from the injury, and to hide the wound, he covered it with a black bandage, his heart still seething with anger.
Despite the accident, the soldiers eventually managed to finish the ship. But when they tried to push it into the sea, they were met with an unsettling sight—the ship refused to move. It was as if the very tides rejected it. They tried pushing with all their might, but the ship remained stubbornly stranded on the shore. Some of the soldiers whispered about Awang Garang’s curse, which now seemed to hold a strange power over the ship. With no other option, they set out to find him.
When they reached Awang Garang’s home, they pleaded for his help. “You cursed the ship, didn’t you? Now you must lift your curse and make it sail!” one soldier cried, desperation in his voice.
Awang Garang paused for a moment, considering their request. Finally, he agreed, but with strict conditions. “I will help you,” he said, his voice steady but firm, “but you must bring me 37 young men, each with their equipment ready. In addition, you must gather seven pregnant women, each dressed in a different color. And remember this: when I work with the 37 men, all of you must close your eyes and not look at what I am doing.”
The soldiers, desperate for a solution, agreed without hesitation. Soon, 37 young men and seven pregnant women stood solemnly beside the ship, ready to fulfill Awang Garang's unusual request. Awang Garang wasted no time, directing the men to search the surrounding forest for large trees. They chopped down the trunks, peeled off the bark, and carefully placed the trees under the ship, forming a sturdy foundation. The work was hard and precise, but the men were determined.
Once the trees were in place, Awang Garang turned to the 37 young men. “Prepare yourselves,” he instructed. “Get ready to push with all your strength. And you seven women, I need you to pray with all your hearts, for your prayers will help guide the ship.”
The tension in the air was palpable as Awang Garang took his position, his bandaged eye hidden beneath the black cloth. He raised his hand high, his voice booming with authority and power. “On three, everyone push!” he shouted. “One... two... three... PUSH!”
With all their might, the 37 men pushed against the ship, their muscles straining. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the ship began to move. The waves lapped against the hull as the ship inched closer to the sea. With a final collective effort, the ship slid smoothly into the water, gliding as if the curse had been lifted. The soldiers cheered in triumph, their eyes shining with relief and gratitude.
Over the next few months, the seven pregnant women gave birth to strong, healthy baby boys. As they grew, it was clear that these children were destined for greatness. Raised with the courage and strength of their mothers' prayers, the boys became fierce warriors, trained by Awang Garang himself. Together, they fought valiantly against pirates that threatened the kingdom, their unity and bravery unmatched.
Recognizing their valor, the Sultan rewarded the seven boys with titles of honor. They were each named Panglima, or chief, a title of respect and leadership. Awang Garang, too, was given a new title—Panglima Hitam Elang, or Chief Black Eagle, symbolizing his wisdom and the strength he had imparted to the kingdom. The seven warriors were each given titles inspired by the colors of the clothes their mothers had worn: Panglima Awang Merah (Red), Panglima Awang Jingga (Orange), Panglima Awang Kuning (Yellow), Panglima Awang Ungu (Purple), Panglima Awang Hijau (Green), Panglima Awang Biru (Blue), and Panglima Awang Nila (Indigo). Their names became legendary, each one a symbol of courage, unity, and the bonds that had been formed between Awang Garang, the kingdom, and the sea.
Moral Message:
True strength lies in unity, wisdom, and perseverance. Helping others and working together can overcome any curse or obstacle.
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