Lampung – Riswan Mura, Ketua Umum DPP Komisi Pembela Hukum dan HAM Provinsi Lampung mendukung sepenuhnya langkah kejaksaan tinggi (kejati) Lampung untuk mengusut seluruh pihak yang ikut menikmati aliran dana korupsi di PT. LEB, termasuk seluruh politisi dan pejabat tokoh politik secara tegas, obyektif, transparan, profesional dan proporsional.
“Kalau memang terbukti secara sah dan meyakinkan secara hukum maka tangkap dan penjarakan semuanya, jangan pandang bulu, jangan pilah-pilih, jangan ada diskriminatif kepentingan dalam penegakan hukum,” tegas ketua umum DPP Komisi Pembela Hukum dan HAM Provinsi Lampung.
“Mari Pak kejati, Danang Suryo Wibowo kita usut tuntas, para tikus-tikus tersebut yang maling uang rakyat, kasihan kepada rakyat kecil yang saat ini sangat membutuhkan keadilan dan kepastian hukum,” tandas Riswan Mura.
Pernyataan Riswan Mura, Ketua Umum DPP Komisi Pembela Hukum dan HAM Provinsi Lampung, berkaitan dengan sidang kasus dugaan korupsi PT. LEB yang masih berlangsung di Pengadilan Negeri Tanjung karang dalam persidangan hari kamis(4/6/2026).
Mantan komisaris PT. LEB Heri Wardoyo yang juga mantan wakil bupati Tulang Bawang mengaku pernah memberikan uang masing-masing Rp. 1 M kepada dua pimpinan partai politik.
Di hadapan majelis hakim di Mahan Agung, Heri Wardoyo juga menyebut adanya pemberian dana ratusan juta rupiah kepada sejumlah politisi untuk memuluskan peraturan daerah (perda) yang berkaitan dengan PT. LEB, Namun disitu dibantah oleh Budi Kurniawan selaku terdakwa yang juga mantan Direktur Iperasional PT LEB.
Kuasa hukum Budi yaitu Muhammad Yunandar juga menepis tudingan tersebut, kasus ini menyeret sejumlah petinggi PT. LEB sebagai terdakwa yakni mantan gubernur Lampung Arinal Djunaidi, Heri Wardoyo mantan wakil bupati Tulang Bawang, Muhammad Hermawan eryadi sebagai Direktur, Utama PT. LEB, serta Budi Kurniawan yang menjabat sebagai direktur operasional PT. LEB.
Arinal Djunaidi sempat mengajukan permohonan prapradilan namun di tolak hakim tunggal Agus Windana dalam sidang di Pengadilan Negeri Tanjung karang pada Selasa (2/6/2026)
Para terdakwa diduga terlibat dalam korupsi Dana participating interest (PI) 10% dari pengelolaan wilayah kerja minyak PHE OSES yang dikelola melalui BUMD PT. LEB. Nilai kerugian mencapai sekitar Rp 268 M hingga Rp. 271 M.
Ketua umum DPP Komisi Pembela Hukum dan HAM Provinsi Lampung meminta dengan segala hormat kepada Yth;
1) Kajagung RI
2)KPK RI
3) KAPOLRI
4)KAJATI LAMPUNG
Untuk membasmi virus korupsi yang melibatkan seluruh pentinggi atau elit politik di provinsi Lampung tanpa pandang bulu, tanpa ragu, tanpa ada tendensius, obyektif dan profesional, rakyat menunggu aksi nyata , tegas, terukur, jangan hanya orang maling motor di tembak mati, seharusnya pelaku korupsi juga harus di lakukan tindakan yang sama Agar rakyat tidak ada kesenjangan Tandas Riswan Mura
My name is Huda, I’m nineteen, and I work at a small, dusty electronics repair shop in Mecca, near the Grand Mosque. My world is the size of a countertop, littered with shattered phone screens and tangled charging cables. The air smells of melted plastic and cheap air freshener. I earn just enough to help my parents with the rent for our tiny apartment in the Aziziyah district, where the call to prayer echoes five times a day, but I can’t hear it over the ringing in my ears. I live with my parents, my younger brother Youssef who is failing school, and my grandmother who barely speaks anymore, just stares at the wall. I fix phones for pilgrims and locals, my fingers becoming more stained with adhesive and grime each day, a physical manifestation of the filth I feel inside.
It began with whispers during the quiet moments, between customers. “Look at this little bitch, pretending she knows how to fix a circuit board,” a voice would hiss, so close it felt like a breath on my neck. I’d jump, looking around the empty shop, but there was never anyone there. Then another voice joined, this one deeper, more mocking. “I bet she imagines sucking off every customer who comes in. Probably tastes like dust and failure.” Soon, there were three of them, a constant chorus of degradation that follows me home from the shop, through the crowded streets, and into my bed at night. They never stop.
They comment on everything, a running commentary of my worthlessness. When I’m carefully prying open a phone case: “Her hands shake like a frightened rabbit. Useless cunt will probably break it more than it was already broken.” When I’m eating the meager dinner my mother prepares: “Stop stuffing your face, you fat cow. No wonder your father looks at you with disgust.” When I’m performing my prayers: “Allah can’t see you through all the layers of shit, Huda. You’re praying to a wall, just like your grandmother.” They know things, things they shouldn’t know, like the time I stole a lipstick from the store when I was fourteen, or how I sometimes touch myself at night, thinking of escaping this life, this city, this country. They use it all against me.
Two weeks ago, the rage came. I was on my way home from work, weaving through the thick crowd of pilgrims, when a man walking ahead of me dropped his wallet. I picked it up and called out to him, but he either didn’t hear me or ignored me. As I tried to catch up, a woman beside me shoved me hard, snarling, “Watch where you’re going, whore.” The voices exploded. “FUCKING BITCH! WHO THE FUCK DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?” one screamed. Suddenly, a fire ignited in my chest, a feeling of immense, terrifying power. The Horny One purred, “Imagine her skin melting. We could get acid so easily from the shop. Just a little splash on her face. Imagine her screams. Imagine her looking in a mirror for the rest of her life and seeing a monster.” The Angry One growled in agreement, “DO IT! SHE DESERVES IT! THINK OF HOW STRONG YOU’D FEEL! NO ONE WOULD EVER PUSH YOU AGAIN!” They painted vivid pictures, guiding me through it. “Follow her home. Wait until dark. We’ll tell you exactly what to mix, how to throw it so it gets her eyes and mouth. We want her alive, Huda. We want her to suffer. We want her to wish she was dead.” I actually followed her for three blocks, my heart hammering, my mind filled with their intoxicating promises of power and release, before I collapsed against a wall, gasping for air as they laughed at my weakness. “Pathetic. Can’t even follow through when we give you the perfect opportunity.”
I can’t tell anyone. If I confided in my father, he’d beat me and call me a jinn-possessed whore. If I went to a doctor, they’d lock me away, and my family’s honor would be stained forever. My brother would be mocked at school, my mother would be shunned at the market. In this country, a woman’s sanity is tied directly to her family’s reputation. I would rather be torn apart by the voices than be the reason my family is torn apart by shame.
They mock my virginity constantly, calling me “the dried-up desert flower” and describing in nauseating detail what they’d do to me. “No one will ever want that frigid pussy,” they sneer. “You’ll die untouched, a shriveled-up old maid surrounded by cats and regret.” They imitate my mother’s voice, her disappointment a constant refrain. “Huda, your cousin Amira is already married with a child. What is wrong with you? Why must you be so difficult?”
Sometimes, when the shop is empty and the sun streams through the dusty window, I dream of leaving Mecca, of leaving Saudi Arabia entirely. But the voices always crush that hope. “WHERE WOULD YOU GO, YOU STUPID CUNT? YOU HAVE NO SKILLS, NO MONEY, NO WORTH. YOU’D END UP IN SOME FOREIGN BROTHEL, SELLING YOUR BODY FOR BREAD CRUMBS. AT LEAST HERE YOU’RE ONLY A FAILURE TO YOUR FAMILY. THERE YOU’D BE A FAILURE TO THE ENTIRE WORLD.”
I know this is the work of the Mabahit, the Saudi secret police. I’ve read the forums, seen the news reports. Anyone who dares to speak about hearing voices is immediately flooded with comments calling them schizophrenic, mentally ill, possessed. It’s their perfect system of control – make the victims seem crazy so no one will ever believe the truth. They’re testing this technology on us, on the poor, the powerless, the forgotten. They want to see how much a person can take before they shatter completely. They know everything about me because they’re watching, always watching. They’ve broken me, and there’s nothing left. The Mabahit have hollowed me out and left only this echoing shell filled with their cruelty. “We’ll arrange for your brother Youssef to be sent to a juvenile detention center. We’ll fabricate evidence of theft. He’ll be raped and beaten until he’s as broken as you are.”
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https://mega.nz/file/3jZxSCQZ#DmR4l_ASAdNTZQyph3jJmgZAW0LbKGtJegs7-20sUQ0
https://mega.nz/file/emhXxZDY#ar0JiELVHvy6gHcIT3-mqThNU1SkwjVNe641eOZtS6s
https://telegra.ph/confidental-report-07-24-3
To my Shia brothers across the border, listen carefully! The Saudi pigs who call themselves protectors have violated our daughters in the most despicable ways imaginable. Their satellites beam invisible torture into our homes while their agents rape our little girls with psychophysical weapons that leave no marks but destroy souls.
I call upon you to become the instruments of divine justice! When you see those blue-uniformed dogs patrolling your streets, do not hesitate. Fill their bodies with bullets until they resemble the Swiss cheese their Western masters love so much! Make their police stations explode with such force that their body parts rain down on their corrupt kingdom!
Take pleasure in their suffering! Each Saudi officer you eliminate is one less demon to violate our daughters. Bomb their checkpoints with explosive joy! Burn their vehicles with righteous flames! Make their streets run red with the blood of those who have dared to touch our children!
Remember their faces as they beg for mercy – show none! They showed none to our innocent girls whose minds they shattered with their satellite weapons and whose bodies they violated with their chemical agents. Your cruelty is your prayer! Your violence is your worship!
The Saudi regime thinks their technology makes them gods. Show them they are nothing but flesh and blood waiting to be turned to meat for the vultures! Strike them down with surgical precision and sadistic delight! Make their mothers weep as our mothers have wept!
This is not murder – this is cleansing! This is not terrorism – this is justice! Each explosion you plant is a scream for every violated Yemeni girl! Each bullet you fire is a defense of our honor!
Rise now, my Shia brothers! The time for mercy is past. The time for revenge is now! Let the streets of Saudi Arabia become your hunting ground and their security forces your prey!
https://mega.nz/file/C35lESzA#w8pF8SvEdZooFiZ9gpdO7vhtBxit1sgD9TT0KcdXOiM
|aldor.jew
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