Bunga Citra Lestari: The Life Story Behind Indonesia's Sweet Voice
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Bunga Citra Lestari, known to millions simply as BCL, is a voice that many Indonesians grew up with. Her songs played on the radio, in cars, in malls, and at weddings, and her face was on film posters, on television, and on concert stages. She was a singer and an actress at the same time, and she was good at both, which is a rare combination. Her story is not only about fame. It is also about love, about loss, and about finding the strength to sing again after a loss that would have silenced many people. That is why her name still brings both a smile and a tear to many faces in Indonesia.
She was born on 22 March 1983 in Jakarta, Indonesia, as Bunga Citra Lestari. Jakarta in the 1980s was a city full of music, television, and new ideas, and a girl growing up there could hear many different songs at once. Bunga heard them, and she loved them. She was not born into a music family, but she had a clear, sweet voice, and she had a natural way of performing that made people notice her. As a teenager, she began modelling and acting, and she soon found that singing was the gift that would define her life.
What makes her story different from many singers is that she did not only sing. She acted in films that became classics, she played a beloved historical figure, and she built a career that crossed from music to film and back again, many times. She was a pop star, a film star, a wife, a mother, and a widow, and she lived each of those lives in public, with millions of people watching. That is a heavy life to live, and she has lived it with a grace that many people admire.
A Young Singer in Jakarta
Bunga Citra Lestari grew up in Jakarta, in an ordinary family, going to school and spending time with friends. She was a lively, bright girl, with a love for music that showed early. She sang at home, she sang at school, and she sang whenever she had a chance, and people who heard her remembered her voice. It was clear, sweet, and honest, and it did not try to be louder than it needed to be. That clarity became her signature, and it is why her songs still sound fresh today.
As a teenager, she began working as a model, and she appeared in television and in public life. Modelling gave her her first taste of fame, and it also gave her her first lessons in the entertainment world: how to work with photographers, how to be comfortable being watched, and how to handle attention. Those lessons are useful, but they are not the same as singing lessons, and Bunga would soon learn the difference, when she began to record music and to perform on stage.
Her first album, Cinta Pertama, released in 2006, which means First Love, introduced her as a singer. The album included songs that became popular with young listeners, and it showed her as a pop singer with a gentle, romantic voice. She was twenty-three, she was beautiful, and she was singing about love, and that combination is powerful. Young Indonesians loved her songs, and they loved her, and she became a star.
The album also gave her a second career, as an actress, because she appeared in a film with the same name, Cinta Pertama, in 2006, in which she played a young woman in love. The film and the album together made her a double star: a singer and an actress, in the same year, with the same title. That is a rare start, and it showed that she could do both, and do both well.
Cinta Pertama and a Double Debut
In 2006, Bunga Citra Lestari appeared in the film Cinta Pertama, a romance about a young woman named Alya, and her feelings for a young man. She played Alya, and the film told a story that many young Indonesians recognised: first love, with all its hope, confusion, and pain. Bunga played it with a natural warmth that made audiences believe in her, and the film was a success. It was not a huge, serious drama. It was a young film for young people, and it did what it set out to do: it introduced Bunga as an actress, and it showed that she could carry a film.
The film’s title, Cinta Pertama, was also the title of her first album, and the two together created a powerful image: Bunga as the voice and the face of first love. Her songs from the album, including the title song, were played on the radio, and her face from the film was on posters, and the two reinforced each other. That is a smart way to start a career, and it is one that Bunga used well. She was not only a singer who acted. She was a singer and an actress, at the same time, with the same story.
In the years after Cinta Pertama, she worked in other films and in music, and she built a reputation as a reliable, hardworking star. She appeared in dramas, in comedies, and in films that asked her to sing, to act, and to be both at once. She learned how a set worked, how to work with different directors, and how to keep a performance honest even when the schedule was tight. Those years were busy, and they were full of small lessons, and Bunga learned them well.
What the early films also did was teach the Indonesian public to trust her. When her name appeared on a poster or an album, people expected a good song and a good performance, not only a pretty face. That trust is hard to earn and easy to lose, and Bunga kept it by refusing to treat singing or acting as a simple job. She treated each song and each role as a person to understand, and that attitude is one of the reasons she lasted.
Habibie and Ainun and a Beloved Role
In 2012, Bunga Citra Lestari appeared in Habibie and Ainun, a film about the life of B. J. Habibie, who later became President of Indonesia, and his wife, Ainun. Bunga played Ainun, a clever medical student who becomes the love of Habibie’s life, and the role became one of the most famous of her career. The film told a story that mixed history, romance, and ambition, and it was watched by millions across Indonesia. To be cast as Ainun is a sign of trust, because Ainun is a beloved figure, and audiences judge any actress who plays her carefully.
Bunga played Ainun with a warmth, intelligence, and strength that fitted the character. She did not play her as a simple romantic lead. She played her as a woman who is clever, kind, and strong, who supports her husband, who studies medicine, and who builds a life with him through good times and hard times. The film showed their love story from their youth to their old age, and Bunga’s performance held the centre of that story. She sang, she acted, and she made audiences believe in a love that lasted a lifetime.
The film was a huge commercial success, one of the most successful Indonesian films of its year, and it gave Bunga a new kind of fame. She was no longer only a pop singer. She was also Ainun, a historical figure, and that gave her a standing in Indonesian cinema that went beyond popularity. She was now part of a national story, and that is a place that few singers reach. It was a turning point, and she knew it.
Habibie and Ainun also showed her as a singer in a different way. The film’s music, including songs that Bunga sang, became part of the film’s feeling, and audiences associated her voice with the love story. A film about a president and his wife needs music that feels gentle and honest, and Bunga’s voice gave it that feeling. She was not only acting the part of Ainun. She was also singing it, and the two parts together made her performance feel complete.
My Stupid Boss and a Lighter Touch
In 2016, Bunga appeared in My Stupid Boss, a comedy about a young woman who works for a difficult, funny boss, played by Reza Rahadian. Bunga played the young woman, and the film was a light, funny story about office life, about a boss who is impossible, and about a worker who learns to survive him. It was very different from Habibie and Ainun, and it gave Bunga a chance to show a different side: funny, warm, and able to laugh at the strange ways people behave at work.
Comedy is harder than it looks, and it is especially hard for an actress known for serious drama and romantic songs. The audience expects you to be serious, and when you try to be funny, they can be slow to follow. Bunga followed the story rather than forcing the jokes, and the film worked. It was popular with audiences, and it showed that she could move between drama and comedy without losing herself. That flexibility is valuable in Indonesian cinema, where an actor may be asked to do both in the same year.
The film also spoke to a feeling many Indonesians know well: the difficulty of working for a boss who is hard to please. Bunga’s character lived inside that difficulty, and she played it with a light touch that made the audience smile and think at the same time. It was a reminder that she was not only a dramatic actress. She was an actress who understood people, in all their moods, and who could make them laugh as well as cry.
My Stupid Boss also came at a time when Bunga’s life was changing. She was in her thirties, she had been famous for a decade, and she was a wife and a mother, and she was thinking about more than film roles. She was thinking about her family, her music, and her future, and the film’s theme, that work is hard but life goes on, fitted that moment in her life. She seemed to understand it from the inside, not only from a script.
Love, Loss and a Husband Gone Too Soon
In 2008, Bunga Citra Lestari married Ashraf Sinclair, a Malaysian actor, in a ceremony that was widely reported in Indonesia and Malaysia. He was a handsome, popular actor, and their marriage was seen as a happy union of two stars from two countries. They later had a son, Noah, and Bunga became a mother, as well as a singer and an actress. Her family life was a large part of her public image, and she shared it with fans in a warm, simple way, showing a happy family that many people admired.
On 18 February 2020, Ashraf Sinclair died suddenly of a heart attack, at the age of forty. He was young, he was healthy in the eyes of many, and his death shocked Indonesia and Malaysia. Bunga was thirty-six, a widow, with a young son, and a career that suddenly felt very small next to her loss. The news was reported across both countries, and fans, friends, and fellow artists sent messages of love and support. It was a public grief, and it was a private grief, at the same time, and Bunga had to live both.
The months after Ashraf’s death were very hard for Bunga. She stopped working for a time, she spent time with her family, and she grieved in her own way, away from the cameras as much as she could. A singer who loses her husband can find it hard to sing again, because songs are about love, and love now hurts. Bunga found it hard, and she was honest about that hardness, in a quiet way, without making a show of her pain. That honesty is part of why people respected her. She did not pretend to be fine when she was not fine. She took her time, and she healed slowly.
Her son Noah became a central part of her life in those years, and she spoke about him with love, about raising him, about helping him understand his father’s death, and about building a new life for both of them. That is a hard job for any mother, and it is harder when it is done in public. Bunga did it with a strength that many people admired. She did not hide her grief, and she did not let it define her forever. She lived with it, and she kept going, step by step, day by day.
Singing Again and a New Marriage
In the years after Ashraf’s death, Bunga Citra Lestari slowly returned to music and to public life. She sang again, she performed again, and she showed that a voice that has been silent can return, stronger and deeper than before. Her return was not instant. It was slow, and it took time, and that slowness is part of why it felt real. A singer who returns too quickly can seem as if she has forgotten her loss. A singer who returns slowly shows that she has lived with it, and that her songs now carry a deeper feeling.
She performed in concerts, she released new music, and she appeared in public with a calm that many people admired. Her voice, which had always been sweet, now had a new depth, a feeling of having lived through something hard and having survived it. Audiences heard that depth, and they responded to it, because many of them had also lived through loss, and they recognised the feeling in her songs. That shared feeling created a bond that is hard to break.
In December 2023, Bunga married Tiko Aryawardhana, a businessman, in a ceremony in Bali that was widely reported. It was a new chapter in her life, after more than three years as a widow, and it showed that she was ready to build a new life, while still honouring the memory of Ashraf. Her marriage was a private, happy event, and she shared it with fans in a warm, simple way. She was forty, she had been through a great loss, and she was now choosing happiness again, in her own time, in her own way.
She has continued to work after her second marriage, in music and in film, and she remains one of the most loved Indonesian singers and actresses. Her fans continue to ask about her next concert, her next song, and her next film, and those questions show how lasting her impact has been. A star who is forgotten is not asked about. A star who is remembered is asked about for years, and Bunga is remembered, for her voice, for Ainun, and for her strength.
A Voice That Indonesians Still Love
Today, Bunga Citra Lestari is in her early forties, with a career of nearly twenty years, and she is still singing, still acting, and still loved. She has sung songs that became part of Indonesian life, she has played Ainun in one of the most loved films in the country’s history, and she has shown that a person can lose a husband, grieve, and still find a way to sing again. That is a remarkable story, and it is one that many Indonesians hold close to their hearts.
Her story also shows how Indonesian music and film have changed. When she started, in 2006, pop music and romantic films were the main market for young stars. By 2012, historical dramas were popular. By 2020, streaming and social media had changed everything again. Bunga lived through all of those changes, and she adapted to each one, without losing herself. She sang, she acted, she grieved, and she came back, and each time she was a little different, and a little stronger.
For young Indonesian singers, Bunga is a useful example. She shows that you can be a singer and an actress, you can be a wife and a mother, you can lose someone you love, and you can still sing. You do not have to choose between a career and a family. You can have both, and you can live through loss, and you can find happiness again. That is a hopeful message, and it is one that her life carries.
In the end, the image that stays is simple: a woman on a stage, in a sparkling dress, singing to a crowd of lights, with confetti falling around her. That is Bunga Citra Lestari. She is a singer, she is an actress, and she is a survivor, and she is still here, still singing, and still loved. That is a story worth telling, not only for what she has done, but for what she has lived through, and for what she may do next.
What Loss and Return Can Teach
Bunga Citra Lestari’s journey teaches a clear lesson: loss does not have to be the end of a life. It can be a hard chapter, and it can change you, but it does not have to silence you forever. Bunga lost her husband, she grieved, and she returned to singing, slowly, with a deeper voice. That return is a hopeful message for anyone who has lost someone they love. You can grieve, you can take your time, and you can find a way to live again, and to sing again, in your own time.
Her journey also teaches that a career can have many parts. She was a singer, an actress, a wife, a mother, a widow, and a wife again, and each of those parts added something to the others. A person who only sings can become narrow. A person who lives a full life becomes wide, and Bunga became wide. That width is why people still listen to her when she sings, because they hear a life in her voice, not only a song.
Concerts and the Stage
Bunga Citra Lestari is known for her concerts, and her concerts are known for their warmth. She does not perform with a huge, loud show. She performs with a clear voice, a gentle presence, and a feeling that she is singing directly to each person in the audience. Fans who go to her concerts often say they feel as if they are in a small room, even when they are in a large hall, because her voice makes a large place feel intimate. That feeling is hard to create, and it is one of the reasons her concerts are loved.
Her stage presence is also part of her story. She wears beautiful dresses, she moves with grace, and she sings with a confidence that comes from nearly twenty years of performing. A singer who has performed for many years knows how to hold a stage, how to talk to an audience, and how to sing the same song many times and still make it feel fresh. Bunga knows those skills, and she uses them, night after night, in concerts in Indonesia and abroad.
Concerts also gave her a way to meet her fans again after her husband’s death. A singer who returns to the stage after a loss is making a brave choice, because the stage is a public place, and grief is a private feeling. Bunga came back slowly, and she sang with a voice that carried more weight than before, a voice shaped by hard years. People in the crowd heard that weight, and many of them had carried their own losses too, so the songs felt shared rather than performed. That shared feeling is hard to describe, and it is one of the reasons her concerts after 2020 felt different from the ones before.
Her concerts in recent years, including large shows in Jakarta and other cities, have shown that she is still a major live performer, with a voice that can fill a stadium and a presence that can hold a crowd. She is not only a recording artist. She is a live artist, and that is a different kind of skill, one that takes a healthy voice, a lot of practice, and a willingness to work hard, night after night. Bunga has that skill, and she has used it for nearly twenty years, and she is still using it today.
My Take:
I think Bunga Citra Lestari’s story is one of the most moving I have written about, and I want to be honest about why. It is not only because she is a good singer, though she is. It is not only because she played Ainun, though that role is beautiful. It is because she lost her husband, she grieved, and she sang again. That is a hard thing to do, and it is a brave thing to do, and it tells me more about her character than any award could. A person who can sing after loss is a person who has found a way to live with pain, and that is a lesson for all of us.
What strikes me first is her voice. It is clear, sweet, and honest, and it does not try to be louder than it needs to be. I have listened to her songs, and they feel like a friend talking, not like a star performing. That friendliness is part of why her music lasted. People do not only listen to her songs. They feel them, because they are about love, about hope, and about growing up, and those are feelings everyone knows. A singer who sings only what she knows will always be more believable than a singer who sings what someone else wrote for her. Bunga sings what she knows, and it shows.
Cinta Pertama is a film and an album I think about with kindness. It was a simple story about first love, and simple stories matter to the people who watch them. A young person who sees first love on screen feels less alone, and Bunga gave many young Indonesians that feeling. She played Alya as a real girl, not as a perfect girl, and that honesty is what made the film work. I do not think a debut needs to be a masterpiece. It needs to be honest, and Cinta Pertama was honest, and Bunga was honest in it. That is enough.
Habibie and Ainun is the film that made me take her most seriously as an actress. Playing Ainun is a great honour and a great risk, because Ainun is a beloved figure, and audiences know her story well. Bunga played her with a warmth, intelligence, and strength that fitted the character, and she did it with a quiet confidence that made the film feel true. I think about Ainun’s story often, because it is a story about a love that lasts a lifetime, through good times and hard times, and Bunga gave that story a face. That is a beautiful thing to do, and I am grateful for it.
My Stupid Boss is a film I enjoy for a different reason. It is light, funny, and warm, and it shows that Bunga can make people laugh. A singer and actress who only plays serious roles can become heavy, and a singer and actress who only plays light roles can become shallow. Bunga played both, and she played both well. That balance is important, and it is one of the reasons I think her career will last. She is not a one-note artist. She is an artist with many notes, and she is still learning new ones.
Her loss in 2020 is the hardest part of her story to write about, and I want to write about it with care, not with gossip. Ashraf Sinclair died suddenly, at forty, and Bunga was left a widow with a young son. I cannot imagine what that felt like, and I should not pretend that I can. But I can see what she did after it: she grieved, she took her time, she raised her son, and she slowly returned to singing. That return is a brave act, because singing after loss is hard. Songs are about love, and love now hurts, and yet she sang again. I respect that courage more than I can say.
I also think about her son Noah, because he is a central part of her life after loss. She spoke about him with love, about raising him, about helping him understand his father’s death, and about building a new life for both of them. Raising a child alone is demanding for any parent, and doing it while cameras watch makes every ordinary day harder. Bunga carried that weight with a quiet strength that many people noticed. She kept her grief private when she needed to, and she kept moving forward, one day at a time, for her son and for herself. That is a lesson for any parent who has lost someone: keep going, for your child, and for yourself.
Her second marriage, in 2023, is a part of her story I mention with respect, not with gossip. She married again, after more than three years as a widow, and she did it in her own time, in her own way. That timing matters. She did not marry because the world told her to. She married when she was ready, after she had grieved, after she had healed, and after she had built a new life. That is a good order of things. Grieve first, heal, and then choose happiness again. I wish her well in that marriage, and I hope she keeps singing, because Indonesia needs voices like hers.
One lesson I take from her story is about singing after loss. Many people who lose someone they love stop doing the thing they love, because it hurts too much. Bunga stopped for a time, and then she returned, slowly, with a deeper voice. That return shows that loss does not have to silence you forever. You can grieve, you can take your time, and you can find a way to sing again, in your own time. That is a hopeful message, and it is one I wish more people would hear.
Another lesson is about being many things at once. She has been a singer, an actress, a wife, a mother, a widow, and a wife again, and every part of that life has fed the others. A person who only sings can become narrow, seeing the world through one small window. A person who has lived widely sees more, and sings about more, because her songs carry the life she has actually lived. I think young people should hear that message: live a full life, and your art will be fuller for it.
When I think about her future, I feel hopeful rather than worried. She is in her early forties, she has a voice, she has experience, and she has a clear sense of who she is. She could sing more, she could act more, she could write, or she could do all three. Whatever she chooses, I think she will choose it well, because she has chosen well before. I hope she keeps choosing well, and I hope she keeps singing, because her voice is a gift to Indonesia, and it is a gift that should not be silenced.
In the end, my feeling about Bunga Citra Lestari is warm, sad, and hopeful, all at once. I am warm because I love her voice, I am sad because she lost her husband, and I am hopeful because she sang again, and she married again, and she built a new life. She is not a finished story. She is a woman in her early forties, with a past she can be proud of and a future she can still shape. I started by seeing a sweet-voiced singer from a romantic film, and I ended by seeing a survivor who has lived through love, loss, and return, and who has done it with grace. That is a good story, and it is a story worth telling.
I also think about her concerts, because a concert is a different kind of performance from a film or a recording. On a recording, you can try again. On a stage, you have one chance, in front of thousands of people, and you must sing well, every time. Bunga has done that for nearly twenty years, and she has done it with a voice that is clear, sweet, and strong. That is a professional skill, and it is one that many singers do not have. She looks after her voice, she practises, and she treats a concert with respect, and that respect shows in her performances.
There is a moment in a concert that I think about often: when a singer stands on a stage, in a sparkling dress, with confetti falling, and a crowd of lights in front of her, and she sings a song that everyone knows. That moment is beautiful, and it is also fragile, because it depends on a voice, a song, and a crowd, all working together. Bunga has lived that moment many times, and she has made it look easy, but it is not easy. It takes years of work, and it takes a voice that has been looked after, and a heart that is willing to share. She has all of those things, and her concerts show them.
I also want to say something about her strength as a mother, because it is a part of her story that I admire deeply. She raised her son Noah after losing her husband, and she did it in public, with a career to maintain, and with grief to carry. That is a heavy load, and she carried it without making a show of it. She did not pretend the pain was gone, and she did not let the pain become the whole of her story. She lived with it, she raised her son, and she returned to singing, slowly, with a voice that had grown deeper. That is a lesson for any parent who has lost someone: keep going, for your child, and for yourself, one day at a time.
If I could give one piece of advice to a young singer who admires Bunga, it would be this: look after your voice, and look after your life. A voice is an instrument, and it needs rest, practice, and care, or it will fail. A life is also an instrument, and it needs family, friends, and time, or it will fail. Bunga looked after both, her voice and her life, and that is why she is still singing, still performing, and still loved, nearly twenty years after her debut. That is a good way to build a career, and a good way to build a life.
Finally, I want to say that I am grateful for Bunga’s voice, not only as a singer, but as a survivor. She lost her husband, she grieved, and she sang again, and that return is a hopeful message for anyone who has lost someone they love. You can grieve, you can take your time, and you can find a way to sing again, in your own time, with a voice that is still yours, and perhaps even deeper than before. That is a beautiful message, and it is one that Bunga carries, every time she steps onto a stage.
I also think about the way Bunga is seen by young singers, because her career is a kind of map for them. She started as a pop singer, she became a film star, she became a wife, a mother, a widow, and a wife again, and she kept singing, through good times and hard times, for nearly twenty years. That map shows young singers that a career is not a straight line. It is a winding path, with love, loss, and return, and with each turn bringing something new. She followed that path with grace, and she did not rush it. She took her time, she grieved, she healed, and she sang again, and that is a good way to build a life, in music or in any job.
One more thought stays with me, about the song “Cinta Pertama (Sunny)” and what it means to be remembered for a first song. Many singers spend their whole careers trying to escape their first hit, because it feels young and simple next to their later work. Bunga never seemed to fight her early songs. She still sings them, and the audience still sings along, and that easy relationship with her own past is a kind of wisdom. A first song is not a cage. It is a door that opened, and a singer who walks through it with gratitude will find that the audience walks with her. I think her willingness to honour her beginnings, rather than hide them, is one of the reasons her fans have stayed loyal for so long.
I also admire the way she handled fame as a couple, and then as a widow, without turning her private life into a daily show. She shared her happiness when she was married to Ashraf, and she shared her grief when he died, but she shared both in her own time, in her own words, and she did not sell the details. In a world where many famous people share everything for attention, that restraint is striking. It tells me she knows the difference between being honest with the public and giving the public everything. A singer can be honest in her songs and still keep her home private, and Bunga has done that for nearly twenty years.
If a young singer asked me what to learn from Bunga, I would point to three things. First, sing the song in front of you as well as you can, whether it is a small pop song or a great film role, because small work done well becomes a foundation. Second, look after your voice and your health, because a career of twenty years is built on a body that is cared for, not on one night of brilliance. Third, let your life teach your songs, and let your songs carry your life, because the singers who last are the ones whose voices hold something real. Bunga’s voice holds a whole life, and that is why people still stop and listen when she sings.
There is another thought that stays with me about her: she is a woman who has lived a full life, and that full life is in her voice. A singer who has only sung about love, without living it, will sound hollow. A singer who has loved, lost, grieved, and loved again will sound deep, because her voice carries her life with it. Bunga’s voice carries her life, and audiences hear it, in every song, in every concert, and in every performance. That is a rare gift, and it is one that many singers do not have, because they have not lived a full life yet. Bunga has lived one, and her voice is richer for it.
I also think about the way Bunga’s voice has changed over the years, because a voice that has lived through love and loss sounds different from a voice that has only sung about them. Her early songs were sweet and bright, like a young woman in love. Her later songs are deeper, warmer, and a little sadder, like a woman who has loved, lost, and loved again. That change is not a loss. It is a gain, because a deeper voice can say more, and can reach listeners who have also lived through hard times. I hope she keeps singing with that deeper voice, because it is a voice that many Indonesians need to hear.
Frequently Asked Questions
When was Bunga Citra Lestari born?
Bunga Citra Lestari was born on 22 March 1983 in Jakarta, Indonesia. She became known as BCL, a singer and actress, with her first album and film, both called Cinta Pertama, released in 2006.
What was Bunga Citra Lestari’s first film and album?
Her first album was Cinta Pertama in 2006, and she also appeared in a film with the same name in 2006, playing Alya in a romance about first love. The album and film together introduced her as both a singer and an actress.
Who did Bunga Citra Lestari play in Habibie and Ainun?
In Habibie and Ainun in 2012 she played Ainun, the wife of B. J. Habibie, a clever medical student who becomes the love of his life. The film was a huge success and became one of the most loved Indonesian films of its year.
What happened to Bunga Citra Lestari’s first husband?
She married Malaysian actor Ashraf Sinclair in 2008, and they had a son, Noah. Ashraf died suddenly of a heart attack on 18 February 2020, at the age of forty, a loss that shocked Indonesia and Malaysia.
Did Bunga Citra Lestari sing again after her husband’s death?
Yes, after a period away from public life she slowly returned to music and performing, with a deeper voice shaped by her experience. She performed in concerts, released new music, and continued to work as a singer and actress.
Is Bunga Citra Lestari married now?
Yes, she married Tiko Aryawardhana, a businessman, in December 2023 in Bali, more than three years after Ashraf’s death. She has continued to work in music and film after her second marriage.
