TANGERANG, Indonesia – From a distance, they looked like harmless black specks dancing in the sky. But for aviation security, they were a red alert.
On a quiet afternoon in Neglasari, a sub-district just kilometres from Jakarta’s Soekarno-Hatta International Airport, a patrol team sprang into action. Its target? Kites.
Four uniformed officers stepped out of an open-backed truck and fanned out across a cemetery. They scanned the sky for rogue kites – and the ground, for the children flying them.
Leading the operation was Mr Ito Sucipto, the sub-district’s head of public security and order. His mission was simple: Stop the kites before they went anywhere near a plane.
That day, three boys aged between 12 and 16 ran down narrow alleys as the patrol closed in. A homemade reel lay abandoned between gravestones. Overhead, a kite flailed in the wind. Not far away, a commercial plane began its descent.
“Stop, stop! Do not run, come back!” Mr Ito shouted. “That kite could bring down a plane.”
One officer grabbed the string. Another reeled it in. The kite vanished into the patrol vehicle – one of a handful confiscated in recent weeks.
It is a familiar scene in one of Indonesia’s most unusual crackdowns, on an airborne threat hiding in plain sight. Kite flying is a popular pastime in the country, but kites flown in restricted aviation zones have been a menace for years and is one that is hard to cut out completely.
Patrols were ramped up in Jakarta after kite-flying surged during the school holidays from June 28 to July 12, causing chaos in the skies. Between July 4 and 6 alone, 21 flights were disrupted: nine were diverted, six had landings aborted, five cancelled approaches and one aircraft turned back. All were blamed on kites.
Every case occurred within the Flight Operations Safety Area, or KKOP, a strictly controlled red zone covering Neglasari and districts within a 15km radius of the Jakarta airport.
On July 7, AirNav Indonesia, which manages the country’s air traffic control, issued a Notam – a Notice to Airmen – warning of the danger.
“We regret that today there are still people who ignore advisories to stop flying kites around the airport area,” said the AirNav president director, Captain Avirianto Suratno, in a statement.
“We sincerely ask the public, especially those near the airport, to stop flying kites. Because it is extremely dangerous and severely threatens the safety of aircraft and the lives of their passengers,” he added.
In Indonesia, kite-flying is more than a hobby. In places like Bali, it is a sacred ritual – a way to thank the gods and pray for good harvests.
Some fly kites to make a statement.
“Residents flew kites intentionally to pressure the local government – demanding things like sports fields,” aviation analyst Alvin Lie told The Straits Times. “If ignored, they flew them at night with lights, tied them down, and walked away.”
Children learn to make their own kites from bamboo and coloured paper. Others buy them at roadside stalls for as little as 1,000 rupiah (about eight Singapore cents). But the risks go far beyond mischief.
Led by Mr Ito Sucipto (wearing cap), officers from Neglasari subdistrict’s public security order look for rogue kites and counsel children caught flying them near Jakarta’s Soekarno-Hatta international airport.
ST PHOTO: ARLINA ARSHAD
Between May and July 2020, seven Garuda Indonesia flights were affected by stray kites. In one alarming case, strings and bamboo sticks became tangled in a plane’s propeller. The carrier reportedly spent about US$4,000 (S$5,100) on inspections and repairs.
On Oct 23, 2020, a Citilink ATR 72-600 hit a kite while landing in Yogyakarta. The remains latched onto the landing gear. The twin-turboprop passenger plane landed safely, but officials warned the outcome could have been catastrophic had the kite struck a propeller or been sucked into an engine.
On July 19, 2024, a Bell 505 helicopter crashed in Bali after its rotors sliced into kite strings. The pilot, a crew member, an Indonesian passenger, and two Australian tourists survived, but two of them were seriously injured.
Flying kites, drones or any aerial object in restricted airspace is illegal under Indonesia’s 2009 Aviation Law. Offenders face up to three years in prison or a fine of up to one billion rupiah (S$79,000).
The danger is not limited to the skies: Kites can injure – or kill – on the ground.
“Kite strings have caught on utility poles and power lines, causing short circuits that spark fires and blackouts,” Mr Ito said.
They have also become a silent killer on roads. “There was a case where a five-year-old died and a father nearly lost his hand because of kite strings. They were riding a motorcycle and the string got tangled and acted like a blade, cutting deep into the flesh,” he added.
The aerial threat is worsened by drones and laser pointers that beam blinding lights at aircraft – especially at night. “Anything that enters restricted airspace can be dangerous,” Mr Ito said. “And we cannot take that risk.”
Still, the skies over Jakarta show little sign of clearing – even with daily patrols sweeping backyards, paddy fields and cemeteries.
A check by ST over two evenings in Tangerang – where Soekarno-Hatta is located – found kites flying openly in several areas, mostly launched by children. Some flew small paper kites; others handled larger ones that soared higher and drifted farther.
A wire fence is all that separates densely packed kampungs from the airport’s runways. Steady winds make the area ideal for kite-flying – and dangerously close to protected airspace.
On the ground, Mr Ito keeps coaxing. He does not scold or shout. Instead, he gathers children, explains the risks, and sometimes quizzes them, hoping that the message will stick.
“We prioritise persuasion,” he said. “Children are scared just by being warned. We involve parents to help guide and educate.”
Flying kites, drones or any aerial object in restricted airspace is illegal under Indonesia’s 2009 Aviation Law.
ST PHOTOS: ARLINA ARSHAD
Mr Madil, a 42-year-old odd-job labourer who goes by one name, told the patrol officers: “I promise my nephews will not fly kites in the cemetery again. If you catch them again, you can rip their faces off.”
At a rice field in Benda – another red zone sub-district – airport porter Ahmad, also 42, was flying a kite with his son.
“Yes, we know the danger, so we are cautious,” he told ST. “Like today, the wind is blowing the other way, away from the airport, so we come out to play.”
Many residents say they simply have little else to do.
Mr Herman, 55, said: “There should not be an outright ban. Do we ban the planes that are making us go deaf and disrupting our TV and phone signals? If there were alternative activities for the children, surely they would go for that. But there is not.”
Despite the incidents and tighter rules, kites are still being flown, though in fewer numbers. Mr Lie said the lack of lasting change stems from weak enforcement and patchy public education.
“There has never been a comprehensive campaign that is integrated and repeated every year. The village heads change, the sub-district chiefs change, the police chiefs change – there is no ongoing campaign,” he added.
And so the cycle continues.
“What happens is after an incident, (a public concern) heats up like anget-anget ayam – warm chicken – and then people quickly forget again,” he added.
The Indonesian phrase captures a deeper challenge: a public concern flares briefly, only to fade fast. Taming the kites remains a major hurdle in the push for long-term aviation safety in Indonesia.
