A Hope That Did Not Materialize, But the Spirit Still Burns Bright

Today, I write with a calm heart, though I must admit, there is a lingering weight in my chest. Not because I have surrendered—far from it—but because reality does not always align with the hopes I have long cherished.

I was born in the 1990s. Truthfully, becoming a civil servant (PNS) was never my original aspiration. However, after spending years abroad, enduring a global pandemic, navigating economic recession, and surviving the harsh terrain of the private sector overseas, I came to view civil service as a noble form of contribution—one worth striving for. Stability, certainty, and the opportunity to serve the nation became compelling reasons for me to pursue this path.

I have known disappointment—not due to a lack of competence, but because I was replaced in a role I had carried out with utmost dedication. I came to understand that, in the commercial world, we are often valued only in our prime and easily discarded in times of vulnerability. It was in that moment of realization that my resolve crystallized: I wanted to be part of a system that is more humane, one that allows room for growth rather than mere utility.

This year was supposed to be my final opportunity. I had prepared for a single shot—one chance, one outcome. But now, that hope must be set aside.

The government, through the Minister for Administrative and Bureaucratic Reform (Menpan RB), Mrs. Rini Widyantini, has announced the cancellation of the 2025 civil servant recruitment process (CPNS), in order to prioritize the completion of the 2024 state apparatus recruitment (CASN). With this decision, those of us born in 1990 and 1991 may have reached the end of our administrative eligibility to become public servants.

“The hope of the 1990 and 1991 generation who have not yet passed the civil service exam has now faded.”

Am I disappointed? Certainly. But will I give up? Absolutely not.

I firmly believe that public service is not confined to a single door labeled PNS. We can still become teachers, volunteers, community advocates, entrepreneurs, or agents of change through the paths we choose. We may not wear the uniform, but the spirit to contribute to our nation remains alive in every step we take.

Today, I wish to thank myself:

For the courage to hope,

For the determination to try,

For the humility to accept, and

For the faith to begin again—even if from a different direction.

Life is not defined by a single destination. At times, detours lead us to harbors of deeper meaning. So let us lift our heads and look forward. Let us not allow a single announcement to drown the fire we have spent years building.

To my peers born in 1990 and 1991:

This is not the end—it is merely a shift in the terrain.

We have not failed—we are simply being called to serve through broader, more open avenues.

If one door closes, it does not mean the house has no windows. Let us open a new window—because light can enter from anywhere.