saco-indonesia.com, Pencurian sepeda motor sekaligus pembunuhan sadis telah terjadi di Desa Sungai Pinang kecamatan Tambang kabupaten Kampar Riau. Korban yang bernama Nurhayati yang berusia (38) tahun telah dibunuh lalu dibakar di atas kasur tempat tidur di rumahnya oleh pencuri.
"Kita juga sudah melakukan olah tempat kejadian perkara (TKP) dan memeriksa beberapa saksi," ujar Kapolsek Tambang AKP Sumarno, Senin (30/12).
Dari hasil penyelidikan sementara, Sumarno juga mengatakan belum ada titik terang mengenai indikasi pelaku pembunuhan sadis yang sekaligus pencurian sepeda motor Honda Vario di rumah korban. "Keterangan empat saksi yang telah diperiksa belum ada yang jelas," kata Sumarno.
Sumarno juga telah menduga motif pelaku adalah pencurian membunuh korban mungkin karena ketahuan, "Karena itulah bisa saja pelaku nekat untuk menghabisi nyawa korban," ucap Sumarno.
Selain itu, berdasarkan penuturan empat saksi, korban yang merupakan warga yang baik dan tidak punya musuh. Bahkan, sehari-harinya, korban tergolong ibu rumah tangga yang tak pernah keluar dari rumah. "Makanya para saksi juga bingung mengapa korban bisa dibunuh dengan cara yang sangat sadis," tambah Sumarno.
Walaupun belum ada keterangan saksi yang begitu jelas, Sumarno telah menegaskan, pihaknya juga akan serius mengungkap peristiwa perampokan dan pembunuhan itu. "Saat ini anggota kita masih berada melacak dan memburu pelakunya," pungkas Sumarno.
Seperti diberitakan sebelumnya, Nurhayati yang berusia (38) tahun warga Desa Sungai Pinang, Kampar, Minggu (29/12) sekitar pukul 03.00 dini hari telah ditemukan tewas terbakar di atas kasus dalam kamar oleh kedua anaknya Tri Riski (16) dan Bayu (20).
Pada subuh itu, Riski dan Bayu tersentak bangun dari tidurnya karena telah merasakan asap yang keluar dari kamar orangtuanya. Merasa penasaran kedua anak Nurhayati langsung membuka pintu kamar ibunya yang sedang tidur dalam kamar.
Alangkah terkejutnya Bayu saat melihat ibunya yang tidur di atas kasur sudah terbakar. Melihat peristiwa tragis itu Bayu dan Tri Riski langsung menjerit histeris dan minta pertolongan warga sekitar.
Warga yang terkejut dengan teriakan anak korban berhamburan ke rumah korban. Selanjutnya warga berusaha untuk memadamkan api, setelah api berhasil dipadamkan warga curiga sebab di kamar korban tidak ditemukan bercak darah.
Warga pun bergegas melaporkannya ke Polsek Tambang. Mendapat laporan dari warga Kapolsek Tambang AKP Sumarno bersama anggotanya bergegas datang ke lokasi untuk dapat melakukan olah tempat kejadian perkara (TKP).
Paman korban Ilut kepada wartawan juga mengatakan, korban tinggal di rumah bersama 2 orang anaknya. Sedangkan suami korban bekerja sebagai TKI di Malaysia.
"Tempat tinggal Nurhayati jauh dari keramaian, sebab di situ cuma hanya ada 4 petak rumah," ujar Ilut.
Menurut IIut, ia telah mendapat informasi Nurhayati tewas terbakar dari kedua anak Nurhayati. "Mendapat kabar itu saya bergegas ke lokasi, dan ternyata kondisi Nurhayati sudah hangus terbakar," tuturnya.
PELAKU BAKAR KORBAN DI ATAS TEMPAT TIDUR SAAT MELAKUKAN PENCURIAN SEPEDA MOTOR
Editor : Dian Sukmawati
Even as a high school student, Dave Goldberg was urging female classmates to speak up. As a young dot-com executive, he had one girlfriend after another, but fell hard for a driven friend named Sheryl Sandberg, pining after her for years. After they wed, Mr. Goldberg pushed her to negotiate hard for high compensation and arranged his schedule so that he could be home with their children when she was traveling for work.
Mr. Goldberg, who died unexpectedly on Friday, was a genial, 47-year-old Silicon Valley entrepreneur who built his latest company, SurveyMonkey, from a modest enterprise to one recently valued by investors at $2 billion. But he was also perhaps the signature male feminist of his era: the first major chief executive in memory to spur his wife to become as successful in business as he was, and an essential figure in “Lean In,” Ms. Sandberg’s blockbuster guide to female achievement.
Over the weekend, even strangers were shocked at his death, both because of his relatively young age and because they knew of him as the living, breathing, car-pooling center of a new philosophy of two-career marriage.
“They were very much the role models for what this next generation wants to grapple with,” said Debora L. Spar, the president of Barnard College. In a 2011 commencement speech there, Ms. Sandberg told the graduates that whom they married would be their most important career decision.
In the play “The Heidi Chronicles,” revived on Broadway this spring, a male character who is the founder of a media company says that “I don’t want to come home to an A-plus,” explaining that his ambitions require him to marry an unthreatening helpmeet. Mr. Goldberg grew up to hold the opposite view, starting with his upbringing in progressive Minneapolis circles where “there was woman power in every aspect of our lives,” Jeffrey Dachis, a childhood friend, said in an interview.
The Goldberg parents read “The Feminine Mystique” together — in fact, Mr. Goldberg’s father introduced it to his wife, according to Ms. Sandberg’s book. In 1976, Paula Goldberg helped found a nonprofit to aid children with disabilities. Her husband, Mel, a law professor who taught at night, made the family breakfast at home.
Later, when Dave Goldberg was in high school and his prom date, Jill Chessen, stayed silent in a politics class, he chastised her afterward. He said, “You need to speak up,” Ms. Chessen recalled in an interview. “They need to hear your voice.”
Years later, when Karin Gilford, an early employee at Launch Media, Mr. Goldberg’s digital music company, became a mother, he knew exactly what to do. He kept giving her challenging assignments, she recalled, but also let her work from home one day a week. After Yahoo acquired Launch, Mr. Goldberg became known for distributing roses to all the women in the office on Valentine’s Day.
Ms. Sandberg, who often describes herself as bossy-in-a-good-way, enchanted him when they became friendly in the mid-1990s. He “was smitten with her,” Ms. Chessen remembered. Ms. Sandberg was dating someone else, but Mr. Goldberg still hung around, even helping her and her then-boyfriend move, recalled Bob Roback, a friend and co-founder of Launch. When they finally married in 2004, friends remember thinking how similar the two were, and that the qualities that might have made Ms. Sandberg intimidating to some men drew Mr. Goldberg to her even more.
Over the next decade, Mr. Goldberg and Ms. Sandberg pioneered new ways of capturing information online, had a son and then a daughter, became immensely wealthy, and hashed out their who-does-what-in-this-marriage issues. Mr. Goldberg’s commute from the Bay Area to Los Angeles became a strain, so he relocated, later joking that he “lost the coin flip” of where they would live. He paid the bills, she planned the birthday parties, and both often left their offices at 5:30 so they could eat dinner with their children before resuming work afterward.
Friends in Silicon Valley say they were careful to conduct their careers separately, politely refusing when outsiders would ask one about the other’s work: Ms. Sandberg’s role building Facebook into an information and advertising powerhouse, and Mr. Goldberg at SurveyMonkey, which made polling faster and cheaper. But privately, their work was intertwined. He often began statements to his team with the phrase “Well, Sheryl said” sharing her business advice. He counseled her, too, starting with her salary negotiations with Mark Zuckerberg.
“I wanted Mark to really feel he stretched to get Sheryl, because she was worth it,” Mr. Goldberg explained in a 2013 “60 Minutes” interview, his Minnesota accent and his smile intact as he offered a rare peek of the intersection of marriage and money at the top of corporate life.
While his wife grew increasingly outspoken about women’s advancement, Mr. Goldberg quietly advised the men in the office on family and partnership matters, an associate said. Six out of 16 members of SurveyMonkey’s management team are female, an almost unheard-of ratio among Silicon Valley “unicorns,” or companies valued at over $1 billion.
When Mellody Hobson, a friend and finance executive, wrote a chapter of “Lean In” about women of color for the college edition of the book, Mr. Goldberg gave her feedback on the draft, a clue to his deep involvement. He joked with Ms. Hobson that she was too long-winded, like Ms. Sandberg, but aside from that, he said he loved the chapter, she said in an interview.
By then, Mr. Goldberg was a figure of fascination who inspired a “where can I get one of those?” reaction among many of the women who had read the best seller “Lean In.” Some lamented that Ms. Sandberg’s advice hinged too much on marrying a Dave Goldberg, who was humble enough to plan around his wife, attentive enough to worry about which shoes his young daughter would wear, and rich enough to help pay for the help that made the family’s balancing act manageable.
Now that he is gone, and Ms. Sandberg goes from being half of a celebrated partnership to perhaps the business world’s most prominent single mother, the pages of “Lean In” carry a new sting of loss.
“We are never at 50-50 at any given moment — perfect equality is hard to define or sustain — but we allow the pendulum to swing back and forth between us,” she wrote in 2013, adding that they were looking forward to raising teenagers together.
“Fortunately, I have Dave to figure it out with me,” she wrote. Dave Goldberg Was Lifelong Womenís Advocate