On 24-26 Feb 2025, I had the privilege of teaching at the CIL-ANCORS Workshop on Maritime Boundary Delimitation held at National University of Singapore (NUS). This event is a regular program, and although this isn’t my first time being involved, it never ceases to be an exciting experience—one worth noting as both a lesson and a blessing.
It all started with Clive Schofield, my PhD supervisor, who brought me into this important project. He was the one who saw that I was worthy of both the opportunity and the responsibility. I know for sure that many of the animations I’ve created are being used as teaching materials in this workshop. Perhaps Clive would have felt uneasy if he hadn’t invited me. Whatever the reason, I am grateful.
There is always a sense of pride in getting an opportunity like this. But upon reflection, it isn’t really something extraordinary. Indonesia is the world’s largest archipelagic state, with a long history of ocean governance. It is only natural that other countries want to learn from us.
For decades, Indonesia has played a major role in shaping international law of the sea, particularly through UNCLOS 1982. Figures like Djuanda Kartawidjaja, Mochtar Kusumaatmadja, Hasjim Djalal, and many others were instrumental in this process. So it makes perfect sense that people from Asia-Pacific, Europe, Africa, and even China are eager to learn about maritime law and boundary delimitation from us. As a son of Nusantara, my role is merely a small continuation of a great wave of struggle that has been in motion for decades.
But none of this would have happened without Clive’s generosity in bringing me into this network. He could have chosen someone else, but he chose me. He could have taught using static illustrations and legal texts, but instead, he chose to use my animations. The more I think about it, the more grateful I feel.
What happened at NUS cannot be separated from the long journey before it. I still remember the final week of my PhD, sleeping on the cold campus floor with only a borrowed sleeping bag. I still recall Bu Asti’s ‘warning’ before I left Sydney for Wollongong:
“Don’t come back until your thesis is done.”
With a single box containing food, toiletries, and a few changes of clothes, I pushed through to complete my studies. In my final year, I lived in Sydney but had to commute back and forth to Wollongong, and in the last week, I chose to sleep on campus just to make sure everything was finished.
Now, I am grateful that all those struggles have borne fruit—not just in the form of a degree, but in the form of opportunities to keep paying it forward. The impact of earning a PhD may not be immediately felt, but years—even decades—later, it opens doors to limitless opportunities to share knowledge.
To anyone currently pursuing a PhD, I just want to say: I stand with you.