There is a version of this story that the world knows — the one Netflix told. But as an Indonesian woman watching from the Netherlands, I have to ask: did the world ever really understand what happened in that Jakarta café?
On January 6, 2016, Wayan Mirna Salihin walked into Olivier Café in Central Jakarta with her friend Jessica Kumala Wongso. Three hours later, Mirna was dead. The coffee she had ordered — the one Jessica had carried to their table — contained enough cyanide to kill her almost instantly.
What the international headlines never captured was the depth of their friendship. Jessica and Mirna had met as students in Australia, two young Indonesian women far from home. They had shared apartments, celebrated birthdays, navigated the loneliness of being strangers in a foreign country together. By 2016, both had returned to Indonesia. Mirna had married and settled into domestic life. Jessica worked as a graphic designer in Jakarta. They had drifted apart — not unusual for friends who move back to different cities — but they had planned this reunion at Olivier.
The prosecution’s version was simple: Jessica poisoned Mirna out of jealousy. They pointed to Jessica’s financial troubles, to alleged resentment over Mirna’s happy marriage, to a pattern of controlling behavior. But sitting in my apartment in Amsterdam, watching the trial footage, I kept thinking about what wasn’t being said.
What the Cameras Caught — and What They Didn’t
The CCTV footage from Olivier became the prosecution’s smoking gun. It shows Jessica ordering two Vietnamese iced coffees. It shows her carrying them to the table. It shows Mirna taking one sip, then another, then clutching her throat and collapsing.
What it doesn’t show is anyone else touching that drink.
But here’s what I can’t stop thinking about: the café was crowded that afternoon. Olivier was (and still is) a popular spot in Grand Indonesia mall. Dozens of people passed that table. The CCTV has gaps — moments where the camera angle changes, where someone blocks the view. The defense argued that someone could have slipped cyanide into Mirna’s drink during one of those gaps. The judges didn’t buy it.
I’m not sure I blame them for that. The footage is damning. But I’ve also watched enough true crime to know that cameras tell you what happened, not why.
The Trial: Jakarta’s Media Circus
The trial began in June 2016, and from day one, it was a spectacle. Indonesian media covered every moment — Jessica arriving in prison orange, Jessica weeping, Jessica’s family issuing statements. The courtroom was packed with journalists. Outside, protesters held signs calling for justice for Mirna.
I followed the coverage from the Netherlands, refreshing Kompas and CNN Indonesia obsessively. The prosecution built their case on three pillars: opportunity (Jessica was alone with the drinks), motive (financial jealousy), and the sheer improbability of anyone else having access to that specific coffee.
The defense, led by a team including attorney Otto Hasibuan, argued reasonable doubt. They questioned the chain of custody for evidence. They pointed out that no cyanide was ever found in Jessica’s possession. They suggested that Mirna might have had enemies — her husband’s family, old acquaintances — that the police never properly investigated.
None of it worked.
The Verdict
On October 27, 2016, Jessica Wongso was convicted of premeditated murder and sentenced to 20 years in prison. The judges found that she had planned the killing, purchased cyanide online (though this was never conclusively proven), and executed her friend with cold precision.
Jessica wept as the verdict was read. Her mother collapsed. Outside the courthouse, Mirna’s family embraced, finally feeling that justice had been served.
But here is where I have to be honest with you: I don’t know if the verdict was fair.
Don’t misunderstand me — I believe Jessica Wongso is guilty. The CCTV footage, the timing, the impossibility of anyone else having access to that drink… it all points to her. But 20 years for a case built on circumstantial evidence? A case where the murder weapon was never found, where the motive was inferred rather than proven?
I’m not defending her. I’m saying that as an Indonesian watching from Europe, I see the gaps that the international audience missed. This was a case about class as much as crime — about two families with resources fighting in a justice system that doesn’t always work for ordinary people. I wonder what would have happened if Jessica hadn’t been wealthy enough to afford a high-profile defense team. I wonder what would have happened if Mirna had been someone less connected.
Ice Cold: The Netflix Version
In 2023, Netflix released Ice Cold: Murder, Coffee and Jessica Wongso. I watched it the night it dropped, curled up on my couch in Amsterdam, feeling strangely homesick.
The documentary is slick, well-produced, devastating in its finality. It presents the case clearly for a global audience. But it also flattens everything — the complexity of Indonesian society, the nuances of the legal system, the sheer messiness of human relationships. The Jessica in Ice Cold is a villain. The Mirna in Ice Cold is a victim. The Indonesia in Ice Cold is a backdrop.
What the documentary got right: the footage is still horrifying. What it got wrong: suggesting that the case was open-and-shut. That there were no questions worth asking. That justice was definitively served.
Justice is complicated in Indonesia. I’ve lived abroad long enough to see it with clearer eyes. We have a legal system that works better for some than others. We have media that loves a good story more than a complicated truth. We have a society that wanted a villain after Mirna’s death, and Jessica Wongso fit the role.
My Question for You
Jessica Wongso is still in prison. She has maintained her innocence throughout. Every few years, her case comes up for review, and every few years, it is denied.
I think about her sometimes — not with sympathy, exactly, but with the kind of unease that comes from knowing you’ll never really know what happened. Did she plan to kill her friend that day? Or did something terrible happen that she couldn’t explain, and the courts filled in the gaps with a story that made sense?
Here’s what I believe: Mirna Salihin deserves justice. She died horribly, poisoned by someone she trusted. Whether that someone was Jessica Wongso — really, truly, without any doubt — I’m less certain than the judges were.
So here’s my question for you, reading this far away from Jakarta: if you had been on that jury, watching that footage, hearing those witnesses — would you have been as certain as they were?
Or would you have wondered, as I still do, what other stories were never told?
Sources
- Kompas — Trial coverage and verdict reporting (2016)
- CNN Indonesia — Case analysis and documentary coverage
- Netflix — Ice Cold: Murder, Coffee and Jessica Wongso (2023)
- BBC Indonesia — International perspective on the case