The 'Not So Grand Dame Of KT'

Remember the old lady Maimunah Yusof?

To day she hits the headline again. For the upcoming Kuala Trengganu By-Election nomination day next week, some midstream reporters had been trailing Maimunah Yusof the independent candidate last March General Election for Kuala Trengganu Parliment weather she would be fielding herself as independence again. Clever and cheeky she handles the press like a pro. However she breathes out her personal experiences 'of being broke' a good election 'human story' for the press.

She lamented of not having the fund to participate on the forthcoming by-election. However she promised ‘God willing’ she would do it the next time again.

I feel sorry for the old lady. For an aged person like her, the next time again would be too late for Maimunah Yusof.

Here was a woman who braved the odds. Fielded herself as an independence candidate for the March 08 - the 12th Malaysian General Election against the might of BN and PKR candidates and election machineries. She was a lone campainger making her rounds cycling from dawn to dust meeting constituen.

Maimunah Yusof aged 89 the oldest candidate ever to participate in Malaysia’s General Election. She was a loaner and an odd figure against the manifold of mainstream political parties’ mammoth rallies. She hardly has the mean or capability to outline her election manifesto, nor do understand what a manifesto meant for her electorates. She just cycled around from dawn to dust, urging people to vote for her. Some promised out of sympathy, while others abhor her madness. She garned 685 votes and subsequently lost her ‘deposit’. The General Election made her RM10,000.00 poorer.

As was reported, her lone crusade had the sympathy of some caring Malaysians. A blog was set up to help her through the elections as well soliciting donations. I remember a known artists (Wong Seng Tong's AN ELDERLY LADY') painted her portrait holding a Maybank Cheque of RM10,000.00, with a promised the sale proceed would be channel to help her settled her debts. The painting was exhibited at one of the up market art gallery in Kuala Lumpur.

And again, as reported in the press the Blog set for her had collected donations from well wishers to the amount around RM160,000.00. However she claimed of not receiving a single cent from the blog operators, and subsequently made a police report ‘to clear her name.’

We hope the authorities would act fast. Those culprits be apprehended and the law should take its course.

Tuk Mon as she is fondly known contested in the last General Election on the believe that her voice be heard. She believed in the democratic process and good governance of her country. Like others, she wanted to play her part as a responsible citizen, though in doing so she was made a laughing stock, label as ‘a mad old lady’ and broke.

Only her crusades make someone richer by the thousands.

Quey Sera, Sera.....

Thursday October 13: D.Day for more than ½ million plus 11 – 12 year olds of this country. It was the government (pre-planned announcement) on UPSR (Ujian Penilaian Sekolah Rendah) 2008 result on the morning of that day.

Much anticipations, expectations and probabilities in the minds of most young parents throughout the country. So would be for my 3 children. Like other young parents, I presumed they too would take leave from works, to be around with their children. (Lucky though they did not rope in the Grandpas and the Grandmas to tag along.)

That morning while most of their children would be in their respective classrooms heralding the impending final term holidays, these young parents, fretting in the canteens as well the school compounds waiting for the authorities to lash out the long awaited news of the year.

I had 3 candidates put to test for this year's UPSR. They are my grandchildren, a boy and 2 girls. I anticipated by 10.00 am the least, ( akin the announcement of The General Election Result) the news would trigger in. I also believe, like most General Election Results, preferences for early announcement would be favoring the most talked about candidates. And so be for the UPSR result this year. My 3 grandchildren (Erfan,Nureen & Aifaa) are the most talked about candidate in our family circle. They are the pride of their parents, their Grandpas and their Grandmas. Of course, The Breaking News would be for the top scorers. Those garnering the converted 5As, as their parents would readily loud their candidates achievements. Other results, the 4As1B,the3As2Bs,the2As3Bs would follow suit. I was depending on that for the morning.

That was what exactly happened. Good news needs no embargo. Good news travels fast. The Breaking News for the morning was from my eldest daughter. Her son scored 5As. both Grandpas and Grandmas must be informed. Its time to rejoice.

Sometimes later the 2nd news - an SMS from my other daughter. Her eldest daughter got 3As2Bs. Since Grandpa had sent a congratulatory SMS note to Erfan Hamad with copies to the others (dirty old man’s trick) he need to be immediately inform that Nureen Hanna scored 3As2Bs. Not too bad for Nureen. (Tak malu bagi tau orang.)

Then what about my other granddaughter - Nurul Aifaa. I anticipated her score to be equivalent to Nureen Hanna, if not better. Finally my daughter-in-law SMS me……”Dear Babah, …I will let Aifa herself tell U all her results. Iam…….” I could’nt believe my eyes. Has disaster struck my son’s family. Did Aifaa flop the exam? Cannot be. Nurul Aifaa is an intelligent 12 year old. I voucht on that. She may be playful, but a responsible girl. Or my daughter-in-law, just pulling my legs? I was fixated.

Then came this message of a Family gatherings at The Lemon Garden, Hotel Shangrila KL on the night of the 16th from my daughter in-law: TO CELEBRATE ERFAN, AIFAA & NUREEN UPSR RESULTS + AYSHA'S BIRTHDAY. It was a 5 star++ celebration. The invitation justify my belief that ( after all) my 3 grandchildren did well in this years UPSR. Syukur Alhamdullillah.

.........

I had my first taste of Ujian Penilaian Kelayakkan when I was in standard 3 in a rural Malay School. The Ujian Penilaian Kelayakan was for admission into the Special Malay Class in the Government English School the following year. Me and another from the same school was selected. Father and Mother was too happy for me attending English Education the following year. They believed that English was the ultimate language to master, as the country was under British rule then. Mother prepared Nasi Kunyit for the doa kesyukuran.

Looking back the Ujian Penilaian Kelayakkan that I took in 1952 has changed my lifelong career developments and opportunities. (Serve as Public Servant for 35 years. Professionally trained in UK and Germany. Throughout my career represented my country in various inter-governmental meetings as well professional seminars on communication hosted by UNESCO, AIBD,ISBO and others, The Governments of Singapore, Indonesia, Thailand, Philippine, Hong Kong, Japan, USA, Korea, India, Senegal, Saudi Arabia, Egypt & Tunisia.) Not bad for a Kampung Boy groomed by illiterate rural parent of the pre-Merdeka era.

'Quey Sera Sera,

Whatever will be will be;

The future not ours to see,

Quey Sera Sera.

I prayed to Allah for all my grandchildren livelong achievements.

'PERMATANG PAUH'..ho..la..la

The electorate of Permatang Pauh has made their choice. As expected it was no surprise the voters returned Anwar Ibrahim - PKR Candidate by acclamation. That was what it was. Permatang Pauh has always been Anwar’s stronghold, since he wrestled it from PAS on BN’s ticket almost 2 decades ago. Anwar will be seated again in the Malaysian Parliament. However, it was not a plain ride for Anwar’s return to parliament after a long absent. The sodomy charged by his former personal assistant, has clouded his campaign trails. As most electorates are Muslim Malays, the charged could easily swing his ardent supporter vote. That was the only obstacle, the PKR/Pakatan camps had to address throughout the campaign. Anwar repeatedly dismissed the accusation in most of his 'meet the people' sessions. His repeated denials worked. Overwhelmingly he won back the trust of his followers. Yesterday he was sworn in parliament as the head of the opposition to the loud thumbing from opposition bench.
BN candidate Dato’Ariff Shah was Anwar’s protégé when he was in UMNO. Dato’Ariff Shah a local and well regarded by both his political supporters and foes. A mean political aspirants right from his early days in politic under the stewardship of Anwar. Alas Dato’Arif Shah garnered only a third of the total turnout. The reasons being as most political pundits believed the BN camps failed to communicate to the rural voters, the ordinary farmers in villages and vendors on the streets.
Although there were claims of rowdiness from supporters of both parties, the by-election was clean, transparent and democratic.
However, the overwhelming return for the opposition candidate Dato'Seri Dr Wan Azizah (Anwar's wife) on the PRU12 last Mach and The Permatang Pauh by-election results favoring the Pakatan Rakyat considered by many as an early signal for BN component's popularity downturn.
In the past the might of BN Coalition has always been felt in most by-elections. Seldom BN lost in by-elections. BN election machinery has always been in control on all campaigning matters, but not for the Permatang Pauh by-election. Something seemed amiss in BN camp. The running of the campaign right from the start was not well coordinated, so it seemed. More so complacency among'st UMNO could be another reasons for the dwindling popularity not only in Permatang Pauh, also nationwide. UMNO and BN Political Team seemed not as solid as it was used to be. UMNO and BN need to solidified their stance, eradicate all the negatives lavelled against them by the opositions and rakyat at large. Corruption and cronyism are the common threat that would bring down any political party. The rakyat has been bombarded with negative slanders levelled on all politicians, by politicians, more so by town criers 'the know all fuck wit' political touts with certain personal agendas.

Looking back: the country's political scenarios are not as they used to be. Most political leaders, aspirants and supporters seemed to be influenced by self greeds for personal recognition, position and financial gains.

Now that, with Anwar heading the opposition bench, things would be different in Parliament. We hope to see a more transparent governance and good Parliament. Rakyat shouldn't be fooled by child st antics, unnecessary remarks and rowdy behaviours by parliamentarians from both The Government or The Opposition bench anymore.

Enough is enough.

For Once, Let's The Rakyat Be Proud Being Malaysian.

Geleri Chandan & Potraits of Bidong

GELERI CHANDAN

was established on May 2008
and was officially launched on Monday 16th June 2008

at approximately 5.29 pm
by

His Royal Highness Dr Raja Nazrin Shah.

The Raja Muda, Negeri Perak Darul Ridzuan.





Today it premiered its 2nd exhibition, the work of a local impressionist artist Razak Abdullah officiated by Dato'Seri Shafie Afdal, Minister Of Art, Culture & Heritage.

It was another auspicious occasion for art enthusiasts savoring the creative works of another aspiring local artist as well meeting old acquaintances at Geleri Chandan. It was a worthy event, true to its colour and pomps with a mixture of music, poetry, and specially composed songs. The occasion not only honoured by the attendance and congratulatory speech from the honorable Minister of Art, Culture & Heritage, it also featured an academic overview on Razak Abdullah works as a contemporary impressionist by Prof.Dr.Muliyadi Mahamood, UITM entitled The Beauty of Bidong from the perspectivee of a Contemporary Impressionist.
As an artist Razak Abdullah has found his nitch as Malaysia's contemporary impressionist. He is deeply concerned with his environment. His works soulful and poetic with harmonious symphonies of colour. The 'Potrait of Bidong' series gathers views of the seabed that depict semi abstract of images of life forms and seascapes.
Razak Abdullah paints directly from nature and put the technique of expression to optimum using bold strokes of strong colour to create the subject's tones, fantacy and vibrancy as he feels them.
His accompanying poetry entitled Pulau Bidong resonate his love for nature and the artist true feeling for his mother land - Trengganu.





Bidung Island


A long time ago

"Jong Hill on Bidung Island

Pulau Karak is split into two"

Such was a message of old fisherman

To sailors lost at sea


Then

Bidong from the shore to the land

is a sacred island

"In seven steps it is reached"

the message was sent

to Ho Chi Minh city

"Here there are feasts,

resting place and hope"


Now
from head to tail on Bidong
new crops grow on her chest
concrete coral reefs
thought up by intellectuals
progress, or so they claim......


by Razak Abdullah
translated by Brigitte F.Bresson


Congratulations to Razak Abdullah and Geleri Chandan for a job well done

The Angler From Tanah Deli

They moved in to their makeshif squatter home by the river bank almost at the same time as our family moving in to our new Rumah Kotai at Parit 26 Baruh, Kampung Tanjung Bayan. His wife was a very kind and diminutive old lady. We called her Mak Itam. I used to see her frail figure busying herself amidst some bushes plucking herbs for her ‘nasi ulam’ – (a mixture of rice with some concocted herbs). Maybe because of her dark complexion, we nicknamed her Mak Itam, or maybe for reasons that we were not properly introduced when the family moved in to our area, none of us knew her real maden name. But whatever it was they were our first neighbor.

Mak Itam was around 40 years old, 10 years younger than her husband Pak Abu. Mother claimed that she was of the same age as Mak Itam. But to most Mother looked very much younger, maybe because she had a fair complexion. But Father and Pak Abu look like they are of the same age.

And like Father, Pak Abu may have wasted his youth engaged in hard labours. Like Father, he was skinny to the bone, thin haired, with sunken eyes. I presumed he got married to Mak Itam when he was in his early teen. According to Father the couple originated from Deli, Sumatra. They were part of the great migration from Riau Sumatra to our shores some years ago. So were our ancestors, Father used to remind us.

According to Father, they were the landless. All the time they had been vigrants living in makeshif squatter homes in ‘no man lands’ by the bank of Bernam River. According to Father he knew Pak Abu years before the Japanese Occupation periods (1941-1945). They also had, on a couple of occasions joined force scavenging sunken ships. Most were cargo ships drowned by torpedoes of the warring parties of WWII between The Japanese and The Allied Forces at The Straits Of Melacca.

He built his squatter home by the water edge. It looked more like a makeshift dwelling than a permanent abode. It was built out of ‘langadai or mata buaya’ woods found in abundance in the mangrove swamps. ‘Nipa’ leaves used for roofs and walls. The floor area no bigger than a badminton court, with an attached small kitchen shed. The interior was almost empty except for a couple of rolled up mat and mosquito nets for sleeping purposes. There was no proper wardrobe. Clothes were hanging on the hooks by the pillars. It was more like a temporary dwelling for fugitive on the run than a family’s permanent abode. They could only afford the very bare minimum. The were simpleton. Although poor they looked contented. They mind their own business, kind to their neighbors and nice to people around them.

It was rare to see a hardcore poor like them in and around the Malay Settlement. At least Father had his Rumah Kotai to house his family. Unlike Pak Abu, Father could take pride of himself as being a part of The Malay Settlement. Father also owned a small holding, a plot of coconut land he could claim his own. Among the Malay Community, Father was considered to be in the bracket of the haves, in the category of the affordable villagers. That was the way the British Malaya Administration Government categorized all resident of the Malay Settlement then. They were land owners - small holders. As for Pak Abu, he was the landless and considered by most as vagrant. He had no place in the Malay Settlement. His livelihood was only fishing at the swelling estuary of Sungai Bernam.

Something unique about this couple interest me till present day. Pak Abu was a seasoned angler, and Mak Itam was good in preparing ‘nasi ulam’. Pak Abu prowess skill angling for ‘ikan SIAKAP,’ was widely known amongst his peers. Most of his good catch of SIAKAP always sought after by Chinese Tawkeys in town offering good prize. His catch could be a few SIAKAP for each monthly season. But that satisfied him, and he would never look for other job option to supplement his income. During off season he would spend his days repairing his ‘perahu’ ( boat ), or moving about the Malay Settlement looking for the right bamboo for his fishing rod.

According to Pak Abu a good bamboo rod would be 15 to 21 feet in length, with each having more than 21 segments. The best would be an old and stunted bamboo stalk with ant nest at its upper branch. It was a feat finding the right type of bamboo for the fishing rod. The size must be around 1 inch diameter at the base and having the required length. Pak Abu would pay any prize for the right bamboo stalks, but normally he got them for free.

Then the arduous routine of shaping and bending the fishing rod by heating them on a slow fire. A special hook is shaped manually out of discard metal. The line was of copper wire, carefully prepared by wrapping with cotton rags, soaked in a mixture of coconut oil and heated over hot fire, for more flexible and durable. That was what we were told. The fishing gear known to the local as ‘UNJUN’ and the angling term in Malay ‘MENUNJUN’ – i.e to throw in the ‘live bait’ of young shrimps into the water to lure expensive SIAKAP ( A type of Carp ). It was a tedious and non economic venture, for no ordinary angler could haul in a big SIAKAP, however hard one tried. None had the skill and patience except Pak Abu. Father tried a few times but failed for he lacks the zeal.
According to Father, Pak Abu's special skill was he knew the habitat of SIAKAP and the way to lure them. Ikan SIAKAP known to be voracious breeds. SIAKAP greedily bite the lure and in respond the angler snatch the rod to hook the fish. Then the ‘tug of war’. The bigger the fish, the arduous the task of landing them. Pak Abu had the skill and experiences even for the biggest catch hooked. He would tire the fish for sometime by not giving in to the strong pull of the ferocious SIAKAP. Later he would let off his UNJUN to be dragged into the deep of the midstream. He would follow the drifting UNJUN for some distant. Sooner he would haul the tired SIAKAP into his ‘sampan, a very good catch and a lucky day for Pak Abu.

And at the change of the tide, with the stronger breeze from The Melaka Straits, Pak Abu would set sail to town to sell his catch to a ready Chinese buyer.

Mak Itam could tell whether Pak Abu had a good catch just by scanning the horizon during the change of tide each evening. A full sail on a strong breeze, meaning a sustainable income for the day. Otherwise Pak Abu would drift back home with the rising tide, along the way checking his fish traps anchored somewhere along the river bank.

Mak Itam as a dutiful housewife would make ready her usual nasi ulam. With or without Pak Abu’s catch of the day, she had dutifully prepared dinner for her fisherman husband. She would also extend some of her ‘nasi ulam’ to the neighbours.

Although the family lived by the day, they were generous and Allah bestowed His kindness to them. They were our good neighbors for years. He was Father’s bosom colleague, and the two very much valued their lasting friendships. They used to laments their long lost bygone history while each tried to define their original ancestral roots of Riau Malay descends. Often I heard them humming the tune of Lagu Kuala Deli together. At time I could see them in somber mood and their eyes red in tears - a phatetic sight for me at that young age, but for reasons I could not fanthom.
Now that they were all gone, I still vividly remember their caring relationship. They were meant for each other. They shared their happiness and sorrows together. They were like blood brothers, bonded by ancestral history and traditions.

Were they of the same Klan? Were they the genuine enthusiastic settlers sailing across The Straits of Melacca looking for greener pastures, or band of refugees escaping the wretch of the colonial Dutch?

That’s the untold historical events yet to be researched.

........of 'WAYANG', 'PAADAM' & 'BEIJING OPERA'

Our ‘Wayang’ (free film entertainment) shows in the Sixties was the weekly outdoor Tamil Movies (‘Paadam’ in Tamil) at the adjacent Rubber Estate, and the unscheduled visits of the Government Propaganda machine - The MFU (Malay Film Unit) outdoor Mobile Film Shows. However the MFU film screening was not so much of real film shows, as the newsreels were often interrupted by the Information Officer lashing out ‘recycled’ Government Messages. Even then the whole Kampong Folks from the Malay Settlement would throng the venue not so much for the film show but for the latest information from the government. More so, it was The Penghulu’s wish that all residents should adhered latest government information, for their own benefits.
There was also this staging of the ‘Wayang China’ - Beijing Opera at a local Chinese Temple. Normally it was a ‘one off’ event organized by the Chinese Association to appease the Gods, so we were told. Teenagers like me would not miss the opportunity, though most elders dismissed the shows as non Islamic. More so it was a religious obligation for our Chinese neighbors they felt we should not interfere.
But my love for the theater, make me one of the ardent admirer, and an observant fan of the Beijing Opera. I would give all the excuse to my parents to be out each night for the opera shows. I was taken by the well managed stage direction and the presentation techniques of the production team. Each night show was different in directorial style with the other. The productions were well stage-managed and the shows flawless. The eloquent delivering of the dialog or songs and the expressive performances of the actors or the actresses with their calculated playacting moves either on a somber mood of  'romancing the beauty of the landscape with adjacent hills jutted with high cliffs’, or in the scene of ‘the tranquil forbidden garden of the wicked Empress’, more so 'the bloody and the aggressive battlefield scenes of the conquerors' that frenzied us to the out most. The swing of the sharp weapon, the artistic animated move enhanced by the sound effects from the beating of cymbals and gongs, the staccato drumming of drums accompanied by live music, too surreal to the ardent audiences.
Even though the storyline and the dialogues were foreign to us Malays, the colourful staging of the opera i.e the extraordinary traditionally designed costumes, the heavy make ups, the lighting effects, the vocals and the dancing, the red cheeks chorus girls of the ‘extra turns’, the comedies and the tragedies of the historical epic staged befitting the real live revival of the historical periods. For me watching the shows all season was like a period of my theater study apprentice attachment. As a result till present day I become too observant for details of events in the same manner I enjoyed the professional staging of The Beijing Opera at that Chinese Temple near my village, long time ago.

…………..

Watching the ‘so called’ high profile DEBAT over BRTV (Bernama TV) a couple of nights ago (15th July 2008) between PKR De Facto Leader Dato’Seri Anwar Ibrahim and the newly elected Minister of Information, Dato’ Ahmad Shabery Cheek reminded me much of the 'impressive' performances of the Beijing Opera actors portraying advancing combatant Generals with full battlefield costume outfits I watched some 50 years ago as a kampong lad.
Although the bulk of the story line and the historical facts of the Chinese Historical Epics were alien and difficult for me to fathom then, or interpreting the Tamil Film hero MG Ramachandren and his comedian sidekick Nargesh, wooing the daughter of a rich Landlord, the storyline of which was also foreign, we enjoyed interpreting their overacting bits and well rehearsed gestures, mimic and moves.
But unlike the 60 minutes DEBAT (alas the station availed 3 “door slammers” of 3 minutes duration of commercial spot breaks) we the audience fully understood the issues upfront as they were current and spoken in our National Language. Surprisingly, what we could not fathom was their body language and the sparring part, the concept of the production, their way of dressing, the setting, the décor, the format as well programmed treatment and running order. For once I thought the production was apeing the concept of the televised current American Presidential Campaign Debate telecasts live by CNN, only that it lacked pomp and luster.
So what did the DEBAT left us.
It reminded me of our ‘Wayang Time’ way back in the sixties. Those WAYANGS although entertaining but were full of farce and false pretenses. Our two confronting generals (Dato’Seri Anwar Ibrahim and Dato’ Ahmad Shabery Cheek) presentation look like there were on two different planes working on 2 sets of data aka aliens from two different planets, trying to save mankind from impending disasters that we know best to counter. They looked confused and uneasy. Were they reading from prepared scripts with some form of ‘ad libbing’ here and there? That was how it looked like (pardon me for my arrogance). Also the well structured program format was of no help either. I presume each segment was timed to the second to give way for commercial break. The Production was too clean for a live and unrehearsed discoursed from 2 opposing politicians. Even school debates would be more provocative, riotous in nature as the issue discussed was of importance to the nation. Dato’Seri Anwar Ibrahim known to be an orator capable of breathing fire of provocations on all his streets rallies, looked lame like a ‘lion in winter,’ at time haggard and sometime seemed accommodating. His apathetic smiles and casual dressing with over sized sagging jacket did not help much in positioning and uplifting his stage image. Dato’Ahmad Shabery on the other hand looked a bit under dress on his dark suits without his tie. His performance was like a young half groomed actor with a badly written script. His unmotivated moves at times resulting to his vocal fell flat. Unlike Dato’Seri Anwar, the Minister of Information has no experience ‘acting for the cameras.’

(I suggest IPTAR – Ministry Information’s Institute Penyiaran Tun Abdul Razak could design a special course for the new politicians, more so for the present bunch of parliamentarians. This is no joke, as in over developed countries upcoming politicians or spokespersons need to master the skill of appearing for the media, playing gallery and charmed the public as the trust of their voters are judged on their outstanding personality, performances and ‘good press’.)

……….

So much with the DEBAT, now back to the ‘WAYANG’ or ‘PAADAM’ or 'BEIJING OPERA' play acting.

MGRamachandran not only an icon of the Tamil Movies in the Sixties and the seventies, but also a successful South Indian politician. He was the Prime Minister of the State of Tamil Naidu for a long term. There was this short film entitled The Phenomenon of MGRamachindran. It was shown by delegates from India in a Short Film Communication Seminars organized by Thamassat University Cheng Mai, Thailand which the scribe attended sometimes late 80es.
The Short Film was about the nagging problems the down turned of MGRamachandran’s political career. His charmed as the film lover boy was dwindling, and his camp need to do something to reposition his popularity to his electorates. They researched on all the good things he portrayed in his films. They found out, of the hundreds movie titles MGR acted as hero, never ever he lost a fight except once in a comedy skit with his sidekicks Comedian Nargesh. They decided to capitalized on it and created media frenzy on rumors that they had been for sometime in loggerhead over some leading actress. So one fine day while MGR was on one of his election campaign trail they stage-managed a fight which saw his onetime sidekicks Nargesh attacking him. Later the photograph of MGR with his ‘broken right arm’ in the sling was distributed in all his political rallies to his fans and followers. The short film was also screened in his other election campaigns. In no time the team had successfully maintained their leader’s popularity

……..

All in all the DEBAT akin watching some playacting stunts on films or stage shows. I truly believed if any qualified politicians choose to play acting in the world open stage, he or she could enhance his or her popularity standings (or political diversion) to the masses if stage managed properly.

But most of our political aspirants are neither (true) actors, nor (qualified) politicians. Some even make a mockery of themselves in Parliments. Imagine another DEBAT of this kind involving those, where do we end up.

A"Flip-Plop' society?

That’s all folks. I now rest my case. Have a good day.

THE RURAL POOR

Life was simple in the Fifties. At least for my Kampong folks from The Malay Settlement, for by virtue of our Malay descends as ‘the native son of the soil’ (kaum Bumiputra) we were categorized as Tuan Tanah/Land Owner - ‘Small Holders’ as against the vast Estate Plantations owned by European Planters. Most accepted it as honorable standings, that the British Colonial had positioned residents of The Malay Settlement as among the ‘well off’’ well above the ‘have not’ – the poor, the ‘landless’ or laborers in some Rubber Estates or Tin Mines.

Thus it was stated in my school record Father’s profession was that of a Land Owner or Tuan Tanah – a Small Holder, though I knew very well he was not. I remember our early dwelling was on an ancestral plot less than half an acre in size, known among the family circle as Tanah 2 Baris situated at Parit No 23 (Baruh). The plot consisting of two rows of coconut palms, left by his parents to be shared with his other 5 siblings. When his sibling sisters grew up the plot was too congested for their families housing needs. Father opted out. He moved our dwelling to a rented plot ¾ miles away at Parit 25 (Tengah).

It was on this rented plot that Father started his retail business, by means of ‘barter-trade’. Those days’ provision goods were exchanged with agricultural produce, as real cash was hard to come by. A lucky day’s cash sale saw only a couple of Ringgit turnover. Instead, we had loads of coconuts and other agricultural produce in his makeshift store next to father’s shop house. Later Father positioned his business as a local copra producer. He afforded himself with a Coconut Kiln taking advantage of the abundant supply of coconuts from The Malay Settlement.

His business was good and a couple of years later he enrolled me for English Medium Education in town. By now he could afford the monthly M$2.50 school fees plus other hefty consolidated and book fees. Time was hard then. It was easier to attend Malay School for free then going to town for English Education, expensive by local standard. You are lucky having an extra pair of school uniform on the first month of school, as there were other fees payments taking precedent. Nevertheless, Father has made his decision and the family must support.

I remember at times Father pawned Mother’s only jewelry for my school expenses with the promise he would redeemed them soonest. Mother did not mind the arrangement as long as Father fulfilled his promise. Mother reminded Father, that pair of gold bangles was her only prized possession left to her by her late mother. The only occasion she worn them was during her wedding ceremony with Father. Since then the jewelry was in some secret closet for safekeeping. Mother agreed, pawning them as collateral for my school expenses was a worthy cause, and through out my school days that pair of jewelry was my parent’s only valuable collateral for cash.

I owed them my heartfelt gratitude for their efforts and sacrifices.

(As time passed, I lost tract on that pair of Mother’s gold bangles. I presumed that after father’s death at the prime age of 52 in 1960, the pair of gold bangle was still lying in the pawnshop in town waiting to be redeemed. And no way Mother could redeemed it. Or on the night thieves burgled our house a few month’s after Father’s death stole all valuables including that pair of bangles. I believed the former. )

Now at 67 some 48 years after Father’s death, and as I enjoyed the luxurious view of the effluent Lembah Klang from my Penthouse Office at Cosmopolitan Square, Damansara Perdana, I realized how much things have changed for me. I am no more a village lad but an urbanized person, living in the comfort of a developed society. Gone are my simple rural livings in The Malay Settlement with Father, Mother and five siblings. Time passed by and I very much missed them. Had not for Father’s vision on my sound education and Mother’s sacrifices all along, I will not be what I am today. I would be growing up in the Malay Reserve Land, a dropout surviving with whatever odd jobs availed, like most of my other colleagues deprived of proper education. Most, to this day are still living on meager income. Some are in the bracket of hardcore poor living on the same plots left behind by their ancestors.

Sadly after 50 years of Merdeka and self-ruled my descendents in The Malay Settlement, the once acclaimed Tuan Tanah/Land Owner by the Colonial Master, are but a bunch of hardcore poor. Merdeka means nothing to them. It has not changed much improvement to their livelyhood. The existing infrastructure was no better than those left behind by the colonial master, some 50 years ago. And so are their life stories, that of a never-ending tales of hardships for ‘the son of the soil.’ – kaum bumiputra.

Until present time, I feel no stranger meeting them as I travelled the 30km stretch of coconut plantations covering the length of the Malay Settlement. Nothing changes, except some rundown buildings and some old coconut palms swaying in the evening breeze of Selat Melaka. Some occupants are still around, though most of their elders had passed away. We still remember each other’s first name, that of their siblings and the name of their parents and grand parents. Nothing changed much. Their (Rumah Kotai) ancestral homes like mine once the landmark of each family plot, still remained but lack luster, ruined with times and not fit for living. Others left unattended, and a few like Father’s Rumah Kotai, rented out for cheap.

The Malay Reserve Settlement itself was in dire state. After Merdeka as the demand for copra slacks, most moved out making their livings elsewhere. Those who remain in The Malay Reserve heartland opted to other means of livelihood by becoming odd laborers or inshore fishermen….or unemployed poor. Alas, to this day they are the still left outs and the hardcore rural poor.