Every year, dozens of mourners flock to pray, and place candles and flowers at a monument in Kuta, on the Indonesian island of Bali. Many of them are family and relatives of the victims of the country's worst ever terrorist attack.

The bombings on October 12, 2002, which killed 202 people and injured hundreds more, upended the day-to-day life in the popular Southeast Asian tourist destination. Many lives have been changed, as has the country's approach to handling terrorism and potential terrorist attacks.

A night of horror, two decades ago

Late on a Saturday night, a series of bombs exploded in three separate locations in the district of Kuta. The first bomb exploded in the tourist-packed Paddy's Pub, followed by another in the Sari Club, both on Legian Street. Among the victims were 88 Australians, 38 Indonesians, 23 Britons, and many more from other nationalities.

The third bomb exploded about 10 minutes later, not far from the US consulate, but did not cause any casualties or injuries.

Terrorist group Jemaah Islamiyah, affiliated with al-Qaida, was believed to be responsible for the attack. The radical Islamist group — which had gained notoriety for targeting Christians and Westerners throughout the 90s — aimed to establish an Islamic Caliphate across Southeast Asia.

Most victims and survivors were foreign tourists enjoying the coastal party strip, with the majority from Australia. Many were also local workers or just happened to be nearby, such as Thiolina Marpaung, 48, as well as Ni Luh Erniati, 51, whose husband was killed in the attack.

Caught in the fire

Marpaung will remember that night for the rest of her life. Born in Medan, on the island of Sumatra, she moved to Bali for work. The night of the bombings, Marpaung and her two co-workers were driving across Legian Street after attending a meeting with their business partners.

For Marpaung, the memory of what happened next is still fresh. The road was packed with cars and pedestrians and there was loud music coming from surrounding cafes. At that moment, she and her colleagues heard an explosion and felt their car being shoved forward.

"Who pushed our car, bro?" she asked her two colleagues. Then came the second explosion. The car was just meters away from the Sari Club. "My two friends passed out. Everything went dark. I fainted," Marpaung told DW.

She was rushed to the nearest hospital. Due to serious injuries to her face and her eyes, she was transferred to Sanglah Central General Hospital, in Denpasar, for emergency surgery.

Where is my husband?

The following day, on October 13, Ni Luh Erniati was pushing her way through the crowd of people at the scene of the attack. Having realized that her husband did not come home the previous night, Erniati was restless.

"In my heart, I always wish that my husband is still alive," Erniati told DW. But walking among the rubble and debris of Legian Street, the mother of two was faced with the dreadful reality. Her husband, who had worked as a head waiter at the Sari Club, was among the dead.

Learning to let go

Marpaung and Erniati have spent the past two decades trying to cope, heal and let go. Both have spent countless hours in therapy.

After realizing her husband was gone for good, Erniati turned to medication to relieve her trauma. She was left with the difficult job of raising their two boys alone. "When sadness comes, you can cry every day. You cannot do anything," she said.

Meanwhile, Marpaung underwent multiple surgeries to save her sight. In Australia, a surgical team removed the shard of glasses that had punctured the muscle in her right eye. She found herself asking to bring the piece of glass back with her to Bali without really knowing why. Maybe she could have turned it into a diamond, she joked to DW.

Her therapist asked her to get rid of any objects connected to the 2002 bombings, to help her let go. "I threw the glass at Kuta Beach," said Marpaung. She still goes to an ophthalmologist regularly for check-ups.

Both Marpaung and Erniati say their conditions are now much better, both mentally and physically, although both claimed they will never be fully healed. Marpaung said that traffic, crowds, and plumes of smoke, as well as the sound of ambulance sirens, can still trigger her trauma to this day.

How the attacks changed Indonesia

The Bali bombings prompted Jakarta to boost its counterterror cooperation with the US and Australia. As a result, scores of suspected militants were arrested or killed, and Jemaah Islamiyah was significantly weakened.

The Indonesian government has also become more proactive in its deradicalization drive, bringing in religious leaders, psychologists, and other experts. One of the programs includes introducing terrorists to their victims.

The program was meant to offer the victims and their families a form of closure. It also intended to deradicalize perpetrators by letting them personally face the devastating impact of their false ideology.

Forgiveness

Several years after the bombing, Erniati also took part in such a program, with a meeting facilitated by the National Counter Terrorism Agency (BNPT). Despite feeling uncomfortable and speechless at the first meeting, Erniati eventually managed to talk to the perpetrators.

She described the pain they had caused her and her family. She also asked them about the motivation behind their attacks. "The perpetrator's reaction was beyond what I would have imagined. He was crying and apologizing," Erniati said.

She told DW that she has forgiven all the perpetrators who carried out the deadly bombings two decades ago. Harboring anger and grudges will only hurt her, she said. She has since taken a job as a tailor to support herself and her two now grown-up sons.

Marpaung works as an editor and runs her own publishing company. She has also forgiven the attackers. "Holding anger for people I don't know is a waste of energy and psychologically damaging," she said.

Nevertheless, understanding what drove them to commit those extreme acts of violence is something that she believes she will never be able to achieve.

Edited by: Alex Berry