REMEMBERING THE 5TH SEPTEMBER 60

It was on a fateful Sunday night on the 5th of September 1960 our beloved father passed away peacefully. Beginning that night I was to shoulder the mandatory task of helping my mother with all family matters. I was 19 years of age then, and still a greenhorn. I had just completed my secondary education, and with no future planning.

Our beloved father passed away after a very long serious illness.

On that fateful day like any other Sunday afternoon I bade the normal farewell to my family before going to town for the last bus ride to Sungai Batang on the trunk road to Bagan Datuk. As of the 1st week of April the same year, I was on a temporary job posting as an assistant teacher at Sekolah Umum Sungai Batang, some 10 miles away from my home.

I vividly remember, as I left home that evening, it was the usual goodbye between father and son. Not much word spoken between us. This time he was sitting up on his sick bed seeing me off.

I later recalled that it was an unusual gesture from him, because for months he was bedridden – lying flat on the ‘kekabu’ mattress nursed by my mother and elder sister all day. All the time he was weak and frail, more often coughing and spitting blood especially on the early morning or late afternoon.
But then, we observed that on the last few days his health had improved by the day. The family was delighted on the recourse. Now the family firmly believed that the spiritual rituals conducted on him at his sickbed by a renowned Pawang (traditional healer) recommended by closed relatives a couple of weeks earlier has shown healing sign. The family now confirmed that father was bewitched as claimed, althought we strongly disapproved earlier. The Pawang claimed that he had successfully dispelled the powers of the evil spirit on father. That father’s health would soon back to normal.

Easily the family believed him and discarded earlier prognosis that father was suffering either from cancer or TB-Tuberculosis.

But I had my reservation.

For years father had been suffering from ill health. At times he was bedridden for a couple of weeks. I remember a few months back he forced himself out of bed and move about the house. On one occasion he walked to town for his usual Kopi Kaw at the local Kopitiam. I remember giving him RM100.00; a month of my 3 months’ basic salary arrears payment as a temporary teacher, for his expenses. But later that afternoon he was very sick and had to be carried home. He was bed ridden ever since. The money I gave him, was never spent.
I had a special bond with father. He was my mentor. I loved and always had the greatest respect for him, although most of the time I was scared of him. He was a no nonsense fellow. For that he had equal number of people who like and dislike him. He was a popular figure among his peers. The young called him Pak Andak, athough by most, he was known as Pak Abas. He looked after his friends, families and siblings well. He took care of them, so much so that our house has always been receiving visit from families and friends, far and near. They came as far as Batu Kurau, Parit, Ipoh, Taiping, Penang and Kedah as well from Kuala Lumpur, Kuala Selangor, Kapar, Sungai Besar, Bagan Tunjang, Sungai Tiang, Sungai Baru, Sungai Lancang and Rungkup, visiting him on his sick bed. We had uncles, unties and close relatives in all these places. Ours was indeed a big family, and father was always accepted as an elder that they all respected.
I received the news of his death at past midnight from my cousin Ismail. He cycled the 10 miles kampong track to Sekolah Umum Kampung Sungai Batang, to bring me home. I was staying at the Headmaster’s bachelor quarters. That day Chegu Taib the Headmaster had taken delivery of a new motorcycle - a Honda Cub 90cc. So there was a small celebration at the bachelor’s mess. We had dinner, later we had coffee over a game of dominoes. I was in the team of 4, playing the dominoes. We were the noisy lots when my cousins arrived with the bad news. We were shocked. The bad news struck a chord in me. I realized that I immediately needed to be home with my grieving family. It was in the wee hour of the night, and there was no means of public transport. The only way was to ride pavilion on my cousin’s bicycle for the 10 miles journey. Chegu Taib offered to send me on his new Honda cub 90 cc. I was grateful for his kind gesture.
I reached home around 2.00 am, and there was my father motionless body lying on the bed surrounded by my grieving mother, uncles, unties and neighbors. I could hear the trembling voice of my elder sister Salmah reading the Quran. I was flabbergasted as I lean forward to have a peek at fathers pale face. For hours I was by his dead bed speechless till the chill of dawn engulfed the atmosphere around. I now realized that I need to shoulder all the family responsibility rightaway. Most importantly I had to feed and to look after my 4 sisters and a brother well being. Mother, a single parent with no job skill. How were we going to feed the family. I tried to reasons things, but found no avenues opened for me. I tried to see my future, but all I could only see was darkness before me; no sign of light at the end of the tunnel. I was in limbo. For me things seemed to be standstill till morning.
I had my RM5.00 a week allowance in my pockets. I knew my mother had no money either. We all had run out of funds, since my father’s illness. Earlier father sold some of our properties, for his medication expenditures, and as repayment on all his business dealings and outstanding debts.
Out of desperation I need to burst and cry, but my tears had dried out. I need to talk to someone: firstly for a small loan for the funeral, but found no one to turn to.
I was helpless, as I cycled to Hutan Melintang Post Office to send telegrams to my untie in Ipoh, uncles & aunties and other relatives in Kuala Lumpur with the RM5.00 I had on me.

Allah’s will, by the time I returned home at 9.00am, the house was packed with well wishes, and the funeral preparation was fully in place. Thanks to the Village Community Committee. They were ready to give helping hands and took over all the funeral preparation and expenses. They assured me of their total undertakings.
As the eldest son I had to make decisions as to the time and place of burial. I was also to be with the Imam washing my late father body during the preparation for the burial.

There was a small snack as to the place of burial. Our family burial ground had always been at a cemetery of Parit 17, four miles away from our house. There were two other nearby cemeteries, one at Hutan Melintang and the other at Parit 24 each a mile distance from our home at Parit 26. The Iman and the Village Community Committee found out, it was difficult to have a funeral procession all the way to Parit 17, as the kampong track from Parit 26 to Parit 17 was unleveled and considered impassable. The Drainage and Irrigation Department had earlier widened the canals alongside the kampong track, pilling the muddy residues and thick mud on the footpath. As it was a dry season, the residues and mud hardened, making it difficult to walk through. It will take some months later for the DID to leveled them.
I had to make my decision. My mother and close relatives preferred my late father to be buried at our family plot, against the advice of the Village Committee. I was in a fix, until my kampong buddies Zakaria, Shafie, Mat Som, Sarmuji, Malik, Rahman, Andak Aris and few others supported my family’s wish that we should take the hearse to Parit 17 Cemetery. I felt deeply honoured by their gestures, that I subsequently gave an emotional speech to all the well wishes, on the start of the funeral processions.

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In deaths, we forgive and forget. So was on the demised of father. Well wishes thronged our house from morning till after the funerals. Relatives, neighbors, friends, and also his business colleagues and rivals came from far and near with the condolences. Never had I seen such a big number of well wishes, meeting our families. As I stated earlier, during his lifetimes my father was always adored by his friends as well loathed by his rivals. Now they came in full force paying their last respect. .

As far as I remember, father had a hard life and gone through lots of sufferings for the welfare of his family and siblings. Life has taken its toll on him. He was the sole breadwinner in our family. He loved us dearly and took care on all his siblings.
He left us with no parting words. And it was up to us to make his entire dream realized. For whatever it was, I had to take my stance: work hard and be worthy in life. I firmly believe father would want me to strive, the betterment for all. That’s the righteous way to follow. Alhamdullillah we’ were all blessed by Allah.

Mother passed away of old age 33 years later, in 1993 and was buried at the vicinity of father's grave. For 33 years, mother a Single Parent. She really took good care on all her children. We all missed them dearly. Daily we give our prayers for their souls and on any available chance visited their graves at the family plot at Parit 17.
Alfatihah……May Allah Blessed their Souls.

Ps: I am posting this on the eve of AidilAdha 2007. My sisters and brother plus their spouses, children and grand children would ‘balik kampung’ to day for the Hari Raya Haji on the 20th December. We’ll have a kenduri and Majlis Tahlil tonight at Surau Parit 27 Baruh, Aidiladha Prayer tomorrow morning, followed by Korban dan AidilAdha Feasting at the same venue.