My Sibling 7

The photos shows me (right) with my three younger sisters. Left is Rai (Zuraimah) the youngest in the family, my younger sister, Anah (Zurainah) and my immediate younger sister, Ani (Guraini).

My younger sisters are so different from me. When we were young, they behaved like girls, ladylike and obendient to my parents, whereas I was more like a boy, free-spirited and rebellious. Next to me is my younger sister, Ani. Her name was registered by my father as Zuraini but when her birth certificate was lost, her new certificate showed Guraini, much to my parents' dismay. Ani was not happy too but she got no choice and has to stick to it. To us, she is Ani or Mak Utih to her neices and nephews.

Ani is quite a favourite with my parents and brothers. She is gentle and as a young girl, she and my other younger sister Anah are the ones who helped my mother - cooking and cleaning the house. So they were much more appreciated than me. She attended the Malacca Girls High School, Malacca and completed form five. At home my mother did not have to ask her to do housework as she would do it voluntarily.

When she finished form five she went to stay with my second brother, Bang Fudin, in Kuantan for a while. There she got a job in Telekom and stayed on her own with her friends. I remember visiting her there when I was in my second year at University Malaya. At that time going, to Kuantan was a big deal as road was not good and transport was difficult. At one time she had an admirer - a British army sargent, Bob, who was so keen on her. On hari raya day, she came back to Tg. Kling with Bob who stayed at a motel in Kelebang. By then my parents have become more relaxed and not so strict as he was with me before. The kampung folks also have changed somewhat in their attitude, especially when I went to university. So, when Bob came for raya, my parents packed for him ketupat and rendang to be taken back to his motel. The next day, I was tickled pink when Bob said that he ate the ketupat without getting rid of the daun kelapa. He didn't know how to eat it in a proper way. He enjoyed the rendand even though it was hot for him. Poor Mat Saleh! We took it for granted that he knew how to eat ketupat and rendang and didn't bother to explain how. But my sister, Ani, was not really keen on him as she has met another guy, Rahman, in Kuantan who later became her husband.

Tall, fair and good-looking, Rahman was quite a romeo. The marriage was good at first but turned sour years later. I knew Ani was being abused by her husband but she was so protective over him. I used to get so irritated by her total devotion to him. Many times while she was complaining on how Aman treated her shabily, but the moment Aman came she became all meek and ready to serve. I was so disgusted. She let herself being trampled over and over again until now.

He is bed-riddeen now and his young second wife abandoned him. She demanded divorce but he couldn't even pronounce the divorce. Padan muka! That's the result for prostituting herself with another woman's husband. I definitely do not admire my sister for her blind devotion but feel sorry for her. I would have kicked him out of my life the moment he abused me. At our family gatherings or weddings, Ani was not able to attend because of her bed-ridden husband. We missed her. All of us feel that his second wife should take some responsibility too. Now Ani's in-laws realised that my sister is an angel. They have been badmouthing her before and supported their brother for taking a second wife. Why don't his brothers or sisters take over the caring? At least Ani has time for herself. Nobody wants to offer help but good at finding faults. I would kick out not only the husband but also the whole family!!!But that's me and I definitely have done exactly that. But Ani is always the soft one and I am the hard member of the family. Tolerance, patience and faithful are her positive qualities.

One instant that I remember well was when Ani wanted to quit her job to stay home raising her children. Knowing her husband, my mother cried and forbid her from quiting her job. She said her income gave her freedom to do what she liked and not to have to beg from her husband. 'Husband is easy to find but job is hard to come by'. That was her saying as she had an inkling on how her daughter was being ill-treated by her husband. Thank God, she listened to my mother's advice.

Now, she has retired and I hope she will find happiness in her own way. I love her and want the best for her.

Another wedding

The hantaran from Jozuan, carried by his cousins and aunties.

The wedding lunch.

My youngest sister, Rai (left), Juriah (the groom's mother) and I going to the bride's house.

The groom was being made up before the bersanding.

Jozuan and family

Merenjis pengantin at the bersanding ceremony.

Another nephew, Jozuan, tied the knot on 20 Dec 2008 with Nurulazwa (Mawa) in Malacca. Wedding on the groom's side is not so messy as in the bride's side. The family members grouped at Juriah's house waiting for the appointed time to be at the bride's house ie at 1 pm. We had rendang and nasi impit first as wedding lunch at the bride's house would be late. Of course, my brother Zul was not present at his son's wedding today. He was with his young wife in Penang and I guess, this side of his family is not important. That made me mad but thankful that he didn'r show up as it would not be pleasant for Juriah especially if he were so thoughtless to bring his new wife. I have no desire to accept that woman as a family member as I thought she prostituted heself and destroyed a family.

Part of the family attending the wedding. Left is newly wed Yanti with mother Zainun (my sister-in-law) and my younger sister, Anah.

None of my children attended their cousin's wedding, a point which made me feel alone and unappreciated. Ika and Justin went to Laos and Maz to Kota Kinabalu for holidays. Izrin was at home sleeping all day. Anyway, I didn't want to entertain this feeling. They are old enough to understand which I have much doubt.

I met an ex-student, Mismi at Ju's house. She was my student at Sekolah Aminuddin Baki, Kg. Pandan in 1969, and a neighbour to Juriah. Imagine, my ex-student has also retired as a school principal. Anyway, it is a pleasure meeting ex-student and we spent time reminised the old days, me as a very garang teacher. She quoted a few incidents which left me in giggles. God, was I so terrible? Anyway she told me that every time when I came to class, everybody would be prepared with their reading for I would questioned them one by one! Sorry to all my ex-students for making your life miserable when I was teaching you. But one thing I remember her telling me was that everyone in the class was successful individuals. I am happy and proud that they did well in their lives.

After the ceremony at the bride's house, I left Malacca for Port Dickson. I didn't want to stay in PD. The resort and hotel was fully booked by holiday makers. It would be so noisy and finding a parking space would be a nightmare. I can imagine the amount of rubbish left by irresponsible people which would disgust me. Since Ika and Justin are in Vientienne, I must go back to cat sit. Poor Mok and Raisa. Even though Izrin is at home, the cats would be hungry in the morning as he gets up really late to feed and clean their trays. I Don't want my spoilt cats to be miserable, so I have to go back to PJ. Mok is going to merajuk and jual mahal when Ika comes home.

I stopped at PD to see Ung to pick up my notebook. He is reformating it as I have problem uploading pictures. But after checking, the problem is still there. I have to take my scanner for him to check when I come back to PD next year. It's going to be along holidays for everybody and I intend to stay in PJ until 2 January 2009 - away from the noise and the stupid drunk people (mostly Indians) who came to stay there, I hate long public holidays in PD. I have no peace. The place becomes disgustingly dirty and the workers take their time to clean it.

I arrived at my house (Ika's house) in PJ at 8.30pm. Hugged Mok and Raisa. Izrin wasn't home.

Deerland and Mek Su

With Muda, the honeybear at Deerland Park, Kuala Gandah.

Playing with Siput, the orphant female baby elephant found in Sg. Siput.

Foreground is Berabung.

With Berabung or Mek Su when I first met him. He was the male 3 year old baby elephant found in Rompin, Johor.

It was a wonderful day for me and Najidah on Christmas day. Being a public holiday, we decided to go to Kuala Gandah again, this time specially to visit Deerland Park and to see my sweetheart 'Mek Su' again. I brought a bunch of bananas specially for 'Mek Su'.

Feeding the deer at Deerland park.





It was drizzling but since we were early, we entered the park for RM 5 (too cheap!) and fed the deer. Boy, it was so exciting!! The deer came in group to 'attack' you as you brought their food provided by the park. We had to lift the food high above our heads and the deer stretched themselves standing on 2 feet to reach for the food. Some were even taller than us. I got a few paws marks on my white blouse. Since there was only one family with us, we had the deer attention and they surrounded us for food. Unfortunately, as more people came, the drizzle turned to rain and the ground became slippery. You see, the hundred over deer there ate up all the undergrowth and the grass, leaving the ground bald. The park has to be closed when it rains, turning away visitors who plan to see the elephants in the afternoon after Deerland.

Muda, the male honeybear at Deerland Park.

Najidah and I with Muda, the male honeybear at Deerland Park.

Najidah with a baby python. Eeeeks, I won't touch it!

The little white hechhog at the Deerland Park.

Beside deer, there were also other animals which visitors can play with such as the baby python, the flying fox, the ostrich, the beautiful paraquets from Brazil and the most awesome was Muda, the male honeybear. Touching, hugging and feeding Muda was an amazing experience. He licked at the condensed milk smeared on your hand by the ranger and you can feel the rough tongue. He was so obedient sitting at the short stump of trunk waiting for more milk and enjoying looking at the curious onlookers. Small children were encouraged to touch him and to feed him. But they should be reminded that they can only do it here but not in the wild or other places unsafe.

The rain stopped us from any other activities and we moved to Kuala Gandah Elephant Snactuary. The place was packed wth visitors. I was wondering why the government does not earn money out of this venture. Why must the government supports these activities for so many visitors coming with free entrance.It is high time, for Jabatan Perhilitan to shift over the burden of financing this place by earning some money. I noticed there was a room to give donation but nobody seems to bother. I can see if entrance was charged at least RM5 per person, the governement can make over a thousand ringgit per day. Charging car parking is another source of income. Usually people demand everthing free but they will not appreciate it. The parking place was littered with rubbish. At least the parking fees can pay for somebody to clean it. I saw the video on Perhilitan staff translocating wild animals to a safer environment like the National Park. It was eally a hard and expensive work. So money should be collected to support part of this effort. Why is it not done? One day goevernment policy might change especilly when the kitty is low, what will happen to this sanctuary?

Anyway, my trip to the elephant sanctuary had a purpose. I have fallen in love with 'Mek Su' as I described it in my old blog. I went there just to see her bringing a bunch of banans as her present. But it seems I have fallen in love with right baby elephant but got the name all wrong. One of the staff told me that 'Mek Su' is actually an elephant command, meaning 'sit down'. The elephant that I came to see is actualy Berabung or Bong the 3 year old baby male elephant found abandoned in Berabung Felda in Rompin. So I have to change and align my thinking and feeling to Berabung, not Mek Su.

Berabung and Siput frolicking in the river with visitors.

Walking Berabung and Siput to the river.

I met Berabung, thanks to Suhaimi and the other 2 mahoots who explained about Berabung. I was introduced to Siput, the female 3 year old baby elephnat found in Sg. Siput. She is just as good-looking as Berabung and so very adorable. But my attention was on Berabung whom I have refered to and loved as Mek Su and a he not a she. I hugged, talked and rubbed him and told him that he is just as amazing as I have met him before. With the mahoots, Najidah and I walked together with Berabung and Siput to the river for their bath with the visitors. Both elephants and visitors seemed to enjoy frolicking in the river. I stayed on the bank watching the activity waiting for Berabung and Siput to come up. Najidah has bought peanut as the mahoot said they love peanuts. The peanut feeding was thrilling. Both Berabung and Siput didn't seem to have enough, to the delight of the onlookers. It was such a thrilling experience as I hugged goodbye to both of them.

This is not going to be my last visit as I have promised Berabung and Siput to see them again. My attempt to volunteer my sevice was turned down by Jabatan Perhilitan. They responded to my email to say they don't need volunteers. I think they do, the least they can ask me to help is picking loads of rubbish left by the irresponsible visitors. I would do it. Well, I tried but was not welcomed.

Berabung and Siput saying goodbye as they were led to their shed.






For further information on Deerland Park, you can call En. Abdullah, mobile 013-9676242 or office line 09-2797249 or fax: 09- 2779305.

email: kraunaturepark@yahoo.com

Deerland Park, thank you for a very exciting day. Berabung, I still love you no matter what your name is and Siput too.

Najidah and I really had a great time and I thank God for giving me the time and the energy to see the greatness He has created.

My early adulthood

The conflict with my parents eased greatly when I completed my Senior Cambridge and joined sixth form in High School Malacca in 1963. I guess, I matured a bit and my parents have accepted the fact that I was serious about my study. The village people still couldn't accept that I still went to school and my parents didn't care much about their opinions even though their remarks were quite degrading.

One of the changes that I saw in my parents was the beginning of him trusting me and my judgment. Previously, I was always angry at my father for opening all my letters. I was so frustrated, I sent in my name and address to a magazine for their pen-pal column. I received quite a number of letters all wanting to be friends with me - girls and boys. He got tired of censoring so many letters and finally dumped them on my table and said, 'Do as you like.' From then onward, there was no censoring, no cross-examining. I stopped responding to those letters. I wasn't keen spending my money on buying stamps and taking precious time writing unproductive letters. I didn't realised I was using Flooding Technique in my early life - in a simpler form!




The photograph showed my close friends in sixth form at Malacca High School in 1963-1964. Center is Padma and right is Alice Chee.


















I have 2 close friends in sixth form - Alice Chee or Chee Lan Neo and Padma. Alice later became the Editor of Her World magazine (retired now) but I have not heard of Padma. I wonder where she is now. Most of my friends in sixth form were well-to-do Chinese boys and I got invited to most of their parties. I was one of the two Malay girls in the Arts class. But our parties at that time were clean and straight - no drugs, no excessive drinking, no sex or any behaviour that were unaccepatable. We just talked, ate and danced. My father gave me curfew time - I have to be home latest by 1 am. The boys came to pick me up at home at 8 pm. By 12. 30 am I was already restless and reminded my friends to send me home. Of course they said I could go back a bit later but I insisted to be sent home before 1 am or I would walk back. They were good boys who respected me and took me home. My mother was waiting and I guess she must be so relieved to see me safely home.



A year senior to me was Zubaidah Abdul Rahman, formerly from Sekolah Tun Fatimah. There weren't many Malay girls and boys in sixth form that time. We became friends and sometimes people mistook us for sisters as we shared the same father's name. Both of us had different personalities - Zubaidah was more quiet and calm and I was more sociable and outgoing. Bedah was an artist, a poet and a commanding writer in Malay. I used to admire her paintings which were mostly scenery with dark sombre colours which in some way reflected her personality. She worked as a reporter, later became the editor of Berita Harian in women's section after graduation. Our friendship survives until today and her children accept me as their aunt and called me Mak Itam as my nieces and nephews do. Other Malay boys in my class were Johari Mat (formerly Director General of Ministry of Education), Hasmi Agam (formerly an ambassador) Said Awang ( formerly police chief in the police force). They did well in their careers with titles of Tan Sri and Dato'.

I had no particulr boyfriend at that time though I had a few admirers. I was never serious with anybody and pulled myself away once I had an inkling somebody was serious with me. I kept my distance and enjoyed the attention given to me. I had no intention to get entangled with a boy for I had a goal to achieve - to graduate. I know I hurt a few hearts but it wasn't my fault. So to those guys who felt that I was unfair, forgive me. This went on until my Diploma year in university when I decided to end my singlehood days.


Mr. Goh Keat Seng was my History teacher in sixth form. Later he became my boss in Bahagian Pendidikan Guru as the Deputy Director. I met him recently after so many years. I was so excited to see him and gave him a big hug. We exchanged news. I will remember him as the calm and rasional boss who was like a saint to us. When I was angry or upset, I used to go and see him for a brief chat to calm myself down. He had that effect on most of us and so he became the Wali Cina in the office. He was a fantastic listener, attentive and understanding. So when I was under stress, it was him I went ot talk to. Thank you Mr. Goh.

I learned a lot of good values that my parents taught directly or indirectly. One that I practiced and believed in, is trust. My father talked about him trusting me and hoped I made good decisions. They taught me that once people trust you, never betrayed that trust. That's the reason why I cannot tolerate betrayal. I am unfogiving when my trust is broken - by anyone including my children, siblings, relatives, co-workers or friends. Once I am betrayed, I'll withdraw and never have the desire to mend fences. I am trustworthy and will not betray the trust that is given to me. Reinforced by counsellor trainig, keeping someone's trust is utmost important to me. Another valuable value that was instilled in my mind was self-respect. My father told me that nobody will respect you if you don't respect yourself. Self-dignity or maruah diri was instilled in me frequently. I am eternally grateful to my parents for making me what I am today and was able to go through life with much courage no matter how hard it was for me. I have gone through so many tests in life - disappointments, betrayal, back-stabbing, false accusations, gossips, emotionally abused, and cheated. My parents taught me strength, believing in myself and the power of Allah. I made a number of major decisions in my life and never regretted them for they were good decisions. No one was able to change my mind once my mind was made up and I dared to face the risk whatever it was.





This photo showed my two police constables friends in Malacca. left is Ramlah and right, I am sorry I have forgotten her name. In 1964.














While in sixth form I made friends with 3 women police constables and learned about working life. There were not many women in the police force at that time. I loved to see them preparing their crisp uniforms, polished their shoes and walked with confidence. Unfortunately I have forgotten their names but I befriended them when I was staying at my uncle's police quaters in Bandar Hilir (Bang Mat, a police sargent) when the Putt Hup bus was on strike. It was a walking distance from the police quarters to High School. At weekend, I would cycle back to Tg. Kling which was about 8 miles to see my parents. My aunt (Kak Bedah) didn't like me cycling back as it was not becoming for a young girl to do so. No Malay girls cycled that far at that time. She even punctured one of my bicycle tyres once but that didn't stop me from doing what I wanted to do. I just had it repaired and cycled home.

During my adolescent years, my father threatend to stop me from schooling whenever I did something against his wishes but I responded back by threatening to run away from home. I knew they loved me and they feared that I really would do it for they understood me well enough. I would do whatever I said. So the threat fell flat. They didn't win when arguing with me as I don't win when arguing with my adult children.

The two years in sixth form were the space given to me to grow up. My parents were proud of me and even allowed boys to visit me at home - something that was not done at that time. I got a teaching scholarship to Universiti Malaya but required 2 guarantors to sign my agreement. I vowed to myself I would never put myself in such a pathetic situation as my father had to go through. He had to see so many people to plead to be my guarators as required by the government. Finally my brother-in-law and a Chinese friend agreed. I saw how disappointed he was when he requested his trusted former student in politic to help but was turned down. I hated to see him begging but we had no choice. He couldn't afford to pay for my university studies. I remember a few years before this, he had to borrow money from a chettyer (Indian money lender) to pay for my 3 brothers' Senior Cambridge examination fees and he took some time to settle the debt. Silently I told myself I would never put myself in that situation. Hence, I saved early and supported my children through their studies with no help from anybody.

When I left for UM, the village people began to look up at my parents and slowly they allowed their daughters continue schooling. I guess they were also relieved that I wasn't around to guard my parents and the family belongings like a hound. At High School, I was still the State Speaker in Bulan Bahasa and a school prefect. I was a very average student but passed my Higher School Certificate in one sitting.

My parents had a respite with less conflicts when I was in sixth form and life was more peaceful.

Lukut Fortress and the Muzeum

I have been living in Port Dickson for almost a year. Every time I passed Lukut, I saw the brown signboard indicating Kota and Muzeum Lukut and wanted to go and see for myself. Idon't want to postpone going there anymore and decided to take a drive there. So on Friday afternoon, after meeting Ung to look at my laptop to reformat it, I drove there. It's just about 8 km from my apartment.

The place is very well-kept and attractive. From far I was intimidated by the endless flight of steps up the hill where the fortress was supposed to be. I debated whether to climb up or just go and see the muzeum. I haven't been exercisong seriously for a while and I thought the climb is a good way to loosen my stiff muscles. So, slowly I climbed up the steps at leisurely pace while enjoying the beautiful view of Port Dickson from the hill.

The poison well at Lukut Fortress.

The trench around the fortress.

The old remains of the fortress.

Makam DiRaja built by Raja Jumaat Bin Raja Jaafar in 1855. It's along Lukut road.

The burial ground of the royal family including Raja Jumaat Raja Jaafar - Makam DiRaja at the Muslim burial ground in Lukut road, near Port Dickson.

The fortress was built by Raja Jumaat bin Raja Jaafar in 1847 on Bukit Gajah Mati or popularly known as Bukit Raja. It was rectangular in shape with 200 meters long and 170 meters wide, surrounde by 3-5 meters deep trench to keep off enemies. Raja Jumaat put 4 cannons from Melaka from the Dutch and put them at the wall of the fortress. The fortress was a proof that Malay power existed here. However, there were very little remains of the fortress now except a few historical marks such the poison well, the brick walls and the trenches.

But the hill is so tranquil with lots of chirping birds. Birdwatchers would love this place. The scenery from the top was fantastic and the area is clean, green and serene. It's a nice place to relax, read books or just do nothing. I hope visitors will help to keep this place clean by not throwing rubbish everywhere except in the rubbish bins provided.

The Lukut Muzeum







The gallery of the muzeum is under renovation. The National Muzeum is going to put in more exhibits. So I went upstairs to see what they have up there. It's interesting to read the histoey of how Negri Sembilan was formed. It's the only state in Malaysia using a digit for its name - Sembilan /Nine. The people who lived here long time ago was from Minagkabau, western Sumatra. Originally there were 9 districts ie Jelebu, Sg.Ujong, Rembau, Johol,Naning, Segamat, Ulu Pahang, Jelai and Kelang. There are only 4 districts now, the others have gone to Selangor and Pahang, the districts are Rembau, Jelebu, Johol and Sungai Ujong which are ruled by the Undangs.

Pagar Ruyung in Sumatra was a place where th Undangs looked for a ruler and Raja Mahmud or Raja Melewar, in 1773 came to settle in Sri Menanti and became the Yam Tuan Sri Menanti who eventually became the ruler of Negeri Sembilan. So, Sri Menanti is known as the Royal Town.

Negeri Sembilan is unigue in its culture and tradition. The only state in Malaysia practices matrilineal system of inheritance which is called Adat Perpatih. The women are the heads of the families. They also have adistinct dialect originated from Minangkabau. In earlier time, they have 12 clans or suku. Since both my parents came from Adat Perpatih system, which I don't practice, they belonged to their clans. As I remember, my father's clan was Suku Tiga Nenek and my mother's was Suku Anak Acheh. All my family members have lost this culture even though as the oldest girl in my mother's side, I have the biggest say. Since I don't understand the system and have not been practicing it, I just let it go. It would be nice to trace my ancestors but there wasn't any written record.

If you visit Port Dickson, do not forget to visit this place as I can tell you, you will not be disappointed.

My Adolescence

My parents, Abdul Rahman bin Hj Muhyiddin and my mother, Maimunah binti Hj. Zakaria, celebrating their 40th wedding annivesary (11 Nov 1927 - 11 Nov 1967).

My brothers and sister at SITC, Tg. Malim old house. Left - oldest sister Zawiyah, first brother, Ahmad Taufik, Ahmad Saifuddin, Ahmad Fuad, Ahmad Zainal Ariffin, Ahmad Mahir and Zuraidah.

My parents, especially my mother had really tough time dealing with me during my adolescence years. I continued to be such a rebellious child, fighting against tradition that curbed my freedom. Typical of adolescent behaviour, I hated any form of sanction from adults - my parents, neighbours and other people around me. I just wanted to be me!

Recalling those trying years, I felt some sadness and regrets that I wasn't kind to my parents. I caused so much heartaches and pains which made my mother cried so many times. I was a model student at school but a rebellious terror at home. My mother always compared me with my oldest sister, Zawiyah, who was a good, docile and obedient girl. She moaned with desperation and said it was easy raising 5 boys but so tough having one girl like me to deal with. I always talked back at anything that she said which I didn't want to accept, 'Satu kita cakap, sepuluh dia jawab'. She shed tears of despair many, many times and said ' Berdosa kau Dah, buat Mak menangis'. I didn't care and thought I dare take the consequences whatever it is. My heart was made of rock, she commented. I am so so very, very sorry Mak, for being such a difficult girl and caused you so much pains in my growing years.

As I said God is great. He gives you back what you gave especially to your parents. I believe children will treat you as you treat your parents. While still living, I experienced this. I understood my mother's pains when Izrin, my son, was as rebellious as I was, in fact more, in his teen days. I cried myself sick for fear he would go astray, getting involved in unhealthy activities. I didn't trust him as my parents were towards me. It was tough time. At the height of my pain, I went to see my mother who was staying with Anah, my younger sister in PJ and crawled on fours, kissing her feet asking for forgiveness of my behaviour, for I understood how she felt when I was so hard on her. I was full with regrets. She just said, 'Mak dah ampunkan kau Dah, sabar jelah dengan Izrin tu, baik lah dia nanti.' She believed Izrin will turn out OK (he is) as I have.

I was hot-tempered and had a sharp tounge to match (mellowed down so much now!). I disliked the behaviour of my neighbours. My mother had quite a collection of jewelery. The habit of these neighbours was everytime they wanted to go for weddings they would come and borrow jewelery from my mother. My mother was a very soft-hearted person and lent it to them. Not being able to read and write, she didn't keep record. They had a habit of not returning the jewelery and then my mother forgot about it. She lost a lot of valuable antique jewelery which we could not trace when she passed away. The same thing with her pots and pans and dishes. All her antique belongings disappeared. The villagers avoided coming to borrow things from my mother when I was at home for I would tell them point blank that they could not be trusted. Why must they borrow other people's jewelery just because they wanted to attend a wedding? Why couldn't they go as they were, after all the jewelery didn't belong to them. Of course my mother scolded me and was ashamed of my behaviour. To my neighbours, I was noted as the most sombong and wicket person, whereas my parents were so nice.

Understanding traditional Malay practices would help to clear a picture of the culture at that time. Concept of gotong-royong, taking care of one another was very strong (to the extend that what belongs to you, belongs to them!). Everbody is everybody's business. Unacceptable behaviour was curbed by village elders. Being a former teacher, though looked upon as an outsider, my father was considered a leader and they respected and looked up on him. But I was his pain. I resented the fact that my parents were always being taken advantage of. My mother especially, feared of being isolated, dipulaukan. It means they would ignore you and refused to help in any event. The need to be accepted was strong, in case of death, sickness etc, it was the neighbours who would rally to help. So you had to be nice. But, not me! I believed we could survive without them, forgetting that there was no modern facilities at that time. So it became a struggle between my parents and me in relation to my neighbours' demand. I just couldn't stand their nosey behaviour - peeping when they heard commotion in my house. I used to yell at them for being such busybody. The conflict went on. I bet they sighed with relief when I left home for university.

At school, I was a favourite with teachers. Looking back at my teachers' comments in my leaving certificates, they described me as responsible, obliging, hard-working, obedient and self -assured. I was always confident of myself, not caring what other people thought of me. I was the class monitor ever year, club president and a prefect. Above all, I was known as a Speaker in Malay representing Malacca in Bulan Bahasa and first in Jacee speech contest. I was in school debate team and every time I represented the school, other schools would know MGS would win. So I made a name for myself even at a young age. I tried to dabble in acting and modeling, it didn't suit me - I had no talent! With these achievements, my parents and siblings were proud of me. At one time, my mother followed me to an elocation contest where I delivered my speech and won. She was beaming with pride. Then it became her statement when we had conflict 'Kau berbahas atas pentas, dengan Mak pun kau nak berbahas jugak!' I loved going to school for school was my sanctuary, away from cooking and cleaning the house.

I owed a lot to some of my teachers in Malay schools and in Methodist Girls School. I left Malay school in 1956 after standard 7. Then I took an entry examination for Remove Class and went to Methodist Girls School in Tranquerah, Malacca on 7 Jan 1957, the year we got our independence. At that time, Malay girls were left far behind their Chinese counterpart. The Malay girls in Remove Class were looked down and isolated themselves due to low self-esteem. We couldn't speak English. Though subjects taught were in English we were too shy to use the language. I resented this and began to use English slowly by using 'I' and 'you' mixed with Malay words at first. I made many mistakes but I didn't care.

I was always one of the top 5 in class, rivaled by Zahara Mahmud, Zainab Muit and Rokiah Khairuddin. For being top in class regularly, I was awarded the Federal Minor Scholarship at Rm 30 per month. The government wanted to encourage Malays to go to school so that they wouldn't be left behind the Chinese and other races. Attitude change was very much needed. With RM 30 per month I became independent, supporting myself as my father had retired and there was not much money to spend with 4 other younger sisters and a brother to support. I loved reading and my pocket money was spent on buying English story books like Dennis Robins, Barbara Cartland etc, mostly romance novels. That was how I acquired English. Even though I disliked cooking, I enjoyed handcrafts and was good at it. I knitted my own cardigans and tops, did crochet, embroidery, and tatting. The RM 30 of my minor scholarship went a long way at that time.

One instance that is still fresh in my mind was how I was laughed and jeered at by some Chinese girls when I used a wrong word in English. I was keen to join sport activities, so I requested to take part in 'circle' jump. They were baffled at first but burst into laughter when they realised I meant 'hurdle' jump. So they jeered and laughed loudly and told everybody. I was so ashamed but didn't give up for I learned that the correct word was 'hurdle'. That stuck in my mind. From then on, it was speaking English. I didn't care whether the words were correct or wrong for when I made mistakes somebody would correct it. That was how I learned.

I was not good in Mathematics. The school Principal at that time was Mrs. Lim and teaching a group of slow Malay girls must be a pain to her. But I was always faithful in doing her homework. I would not budge from my study table untill all homework was done. She commented that the answers to all her homework were all corect but I did a long-winded way to arrive at the solutions. Anyhow she was proud of me. That encouraged me but somehow finding the easy short solution was not easy. But I still did well. I wanted to take General Science in form four but I had an Indian teacher who liked to ridicule Malay girls who seemed slow to her. I was one who did badly and received a put down. So I dropped the subject but I knew I could excel if I had a bit of encouragement and I disliked her so much and forgot her name.

Some years back I met another Chinese teacher, a Mrs. Lim Leng Lee who taught Geography until I was in form 5. Before taking the Senior Cambridge Eaxamination in 1962, she pulled me aside and asked whether I intended to take the Form Sixth Entrance Examination and the fee was RM6.00. I said I was not sure but she insisted I took it and if I couldn't pay the fee, she would pay for it. I never forget this kindness and the confidence showed to me, I took the exam and went to sixth form. I managed to say thank you to her face to face, even though she has forgotten it. I have not.

One person whom I owed most gratitude during my secondary school years is my Malay teacher, En. Tajuddin Ali. Wherever you are Cik Gu Tajuddin, thank you for nurturing, encouraging, defending and loving me during my school days. He taught and coached me in Malay language and in my debate and speech contests diligently. Without his help I wouldn't shine and achieve success. He made friends with my parents and loved to hear my father's stories about his days at SITC. I am very sorry if I ever I hurt you for I will always love you for being my teacher and my inspiration. Part of what I am today was due to you. We met again when he was a teachers college lecturer and I was working as an officer at Bahagian Pendidikan Guru in 1982. Then he became the Principal of Mohd Khalid Teacher Training College in Johor Bharu. So, thank you, thank you and thank you Cik Gu Tajuddin. May Allah bless you wherever you are.

Adolscence is the the period for searching self-identity. I did.

My childhood

As I have said before, my blog is like a journal of my life. My life is like an open book to the readers with the hope that something can be learned out of it, especially when I am gone. I particularly address this blog to my children, my ex-students and nephews and nieces. Maybe they may not like what they read, some of it, but what I wrote is legitimate - my own feelings, experiences and perceptions. So bear with me and try to figure out intelligently what message I want to convey. I am sure that one day, someone will research on me and my blog will provide a rich source of reference.

I am not able to access much of my earlier life as a child, except faint memories of my life in SITC, Tg.Malim in my previous blog on SITC. I knew my mother was so happy having me as her first daughter after 5 boys. She told me this many times. Poor Mak! I was my parents' nightmare as well as their pride.

My childhood was in the early 50s. I went to Sekolah Melayu Lereh, Melaka after my father retired from SITC. I walked to school about 3 km using short cut through the village by the swampy mangrove beach where I used to dig plentiful of mud clams (now, imposing condominiums have taken over the seaside with no access to the public). At that time there wasn't any exercise book. We had to use slade or papan batu with qalam to write - no pencils or pens! My aggressive nature was shown early in my life. Teachers liked me for I was obedient and hard-working but friends feared and disliked me for being fierce and aggressive. Just don't mess with me or I'll fight my teeth out. You must remember I have 5 older brothers and I felt I was just like a boy. My childhood was a constant competition with my brothers for I have to prove (without my parents' knowledge) that I was just as good as them.

I was a defender of lame ducks. My neighbour, Amah, a very timid girl was always bullied by friends at school but once I took her under my wing, nobody dared. We were next door neighbours and good friends. I was quite vengeful especially towards boys. The young village boys loved to tease me by calling me 'anak Cina jual sayur'. It was degrading then when you are a Malay being called a Chinese, daughter of a vegetable seller. I don't have a typical Malay look - large eyes and brown skin. My eyes are small and my skin is light. Even now many people still make a mistake for thinking that I am a Chinese. Sometimes the boys teased me in a sing-song manner calling me 'anak Cina, mata sepet' which infuriated me immensely. I marked who those boys were.

Most of the boys cycled to school in old, made - for- men type of bicycles. I hid behind a coconut tree with a stick in hand. When they pased me, absorbed in chatting and laughing with their friends, I threw the stick at the the wheel of one of the boys' bike. They fell. I jumped at them hitting and kicking. The villagers came to intervene. One ran to my parents calling 'Cik Gu, Dak Idah kelahi lagi'. Of course, I got caned after that for exhibiting such an ungirlie behaviour. My mother tore her hair in despair and said, 'Mengapalah kau ni macam jantan tabiatnya.' I am sorry Mak for disappointing you so many, many, many times.

One of the incidents that I can still recall was my animosity towards a particular Chinese girl. I have forgotten her name. She had done nothing to me but I targeted my anger towards her. Poor girl! She lived in a Chinese fishing village by the seaside and to go to the 2 Chinese shops for grocery, she has to pass in front of my house. I would chased her, in fact at one time I managed to beat her. We fought and my sarong almost drop down, exposing my underwear. But the villagers came to intervene again and of course another caning from my father for being so gangsterish. My mother was speechless with despair. Years later, we met and talked about our childhood and she didn't understand why she became my target but admitted she did jeer at me. Both of us laughed at our stupidity. I wonder where she is now as the fishing village is almost disappearing. Most of the young Chinese have become educated and left the village to live in Singapore, Taiwan, KL and other places. Fishing is not the main income-generating work for the village Malays and Chinese now.

At home, I disobeyed my parents repeatedly by not being a good obedient girl learning to cook, clean house etc which a girl was expected to do. When my parents were not home, I would go out and played boys' games with the village boys especially my neighbour, Che Man and his friends. We played teng-teng, konda-kondi, guli and gasing, main getah as well as climbed trees. I was always good at those activities and used to destroy the boys' guli in the game. But I was a girl and my parents disapproved this. I think, of all members of my family, I was the most caned child for being so disobedient. But you must remember, I was never an abused child but that was the way to teach me a lesson - caning at my feet! It didn't work!!!

In order to understand my childhood, you must know the time and culture that I lived in at that time. Malay girls were supposed to stay quiet at home. They were not supposed to be seen. It's a shame to the family when a girl was seen by people. They saw the outside world by peeping through windows but nobody should see them. They went to school until year 3 and then quit to stay home learning to be ladies, waiting for somebody to propose marriage. At the age of 14, most girls were married. Those who were not married by then were labelled old maids or anak dara tua, tak laku. I was definitely one of those tak laku girls. I was fortunate my father was a school teacher and valued knowledge and my mother, though illiterate, was quite far-sighted. They allowed me to go to school but required me to be a lady. How could I when I saw there were sooooo many things that boys could do and girls were not allowed to. I couldn't accept that. Hence, I became my parents' continueous nightmare, especilaly during my adolescent years, until I went to the university.

Another childhood activity that I enjoyed to talk about was the occassion when young marriagble girls in the village were able to go out of the house. It was at night during full moon. Chaperoned by adults, the girls went to the beach to fill thier sacks with clean, white sand to take home and put in their front yard, in as many trips as they wanted. Of course some young boys would take the opportunity to go too in order to see how the girls looked like, from far in the shadowy moonlight. It was fun time and we laughed, teased, joked and made fun of one another. Poor gadis pingitan, that was the time they could have fun! Even though I was never a gadis pingitan, I joined the fun. The thing that I liked about Malay traditional houses in Tg. Kling was, the front yard was always clean with white sand, bordered by plants and flowers. My parents' house was always clean and beautifully tidy, my mother made sure of that. She would pick even a single grass that came out from the sandy yard. Every day it was being swept and I enjoyed doing that too. She loved plants, flowers and animals - a trait that I inherited.

Having tea with Karim's (in black shirt) family in his house in Shah Alam, a few months before he passed away.

Though I was quite unpopular with friends, I had many loyal friends and followers. Karim Mohd Nor was one of them (He was the first Malaysian Vice President of Matsushita Groups of Companies). His father was a policeman staying at the police barrack not far from my house. We used to walk home in a group using the short cut through the mangrove swamp and he carried my slade. He never provoked me. It saddened my heart to think that I was unaware that he has passed away when I visited his house. I didn't read his full-page arbituary in the Straits Times. I was away in Mecca performing Umrah. Karim and I parted ways when we went to secondary schools though we still kept in touch by letters sometimes. He to STAR (Sek Tun Ab. Razak, if I am not mistaken) and I, to Methodist Girls School, Melaka. We met again several years later after both of us were married with children. He met Ika, my oldest daughter. Immediately after that, he asked Maimon, his wife, my junior in MGS, to call me to set up meeting for his sons to meet my daughters. His 2 sons came to my house and met Maz and her friends. Ika has already gone back to school in Wichita State University in US and Maz was still on holiday before she left for Cardiff University in UK. But his sons and my daughters have already had relationship with their chosen girl-friends and boy-friends. So his attempt to berbesan with me was aborted. That was my childhood friend whom I still remember so vividly. May Allah cucuri rahmat ke atas rohnya, alfatihah. Anyway, I told his sons, if they want to see some photos of their father when young, they can go to Archive Negara and check in my personal collections.

After finishing Standard 6 in Sekolah Melayu Lereh in 1955, I went to Sekolah Melayu Kg. Gelam for Standard 7. I wanted to be a Malay teacher. By then I was in my early adolescent. Since the new school was further, I had to cycle to school. The old bicycle was too high for my short legs to paddle but I made do by pushing one paddle and the other leg dangled waiting for the paddle to reach to push. Bicycles for ladies were non-existence. That time it was just taboo for girls to cycle, what more to continue schooling. The villagers believed that girls shouldn't learn to write, 'nanti dia tulis surat dengan jantan'. That was the excuse and the fear of old traditional Malay thinking. By then, the Chinese girls were far more educated and advanced.

My family was looked down by the villagers of Tg. Kling. They refered to us as orang ulu. It means we were from the jungle and uncivilised. Tg, Kling is on coastal area. They believed that those from coastal areas were more civilised and cultured. My mother was from Chengkau, Rembau and my father was from Alor Gajah. Both places were considered ulu and uncultured and belonged in Adat Perpatih. Unfortunately to them, being educated was being uncultured. My parents had to bear the brunch of humiliation and negative jibes from the villagers. Thank God, they didn't attempt to stop me or my oldest sister, Zawiyah, from schooling. Much, much later when they noticed how education produced successful members in my family, did they realise how important education is. After this, many girls and boys from this village were educated in higher institutions. My family was the pioneer who woke up the Malays here from their long slumber of nrgative attitude and narrow thinking. I thank God for my parents' strength in facing the unproductive cultural beliefs of the Malays at that time.

I don't have old photos of me except those I have posted in my blog on my siblings.

The photos in my last 2 postings are so blurred. I called Ung last night to check on my scanner and computer to find out why scanning and uploading photos become a problem. He has not identified the problem. Seems like I have to send both scanner and laptop to the shop. So please excuse the blurred photos posted in the last 2 posts.

Replica of Raja Malewar Palace

I took a leisurely drive to my old kampung in Chengkau, yesterday, to see how my schizo cousin, Jaafar, getting on alone in his house. His sister, Cham, has gone back to KL and the last time I checked, both of them have recovered from their illness. I brought some food for him as well as my other cousin, Hawa, who stays in her house next door. Only three people live in this isolated kampung at the edge of a secondary forest. The tarred road is so narrow, just enough for a car to pass. I came head on with a small lorry oncoming, so I have to back away to make way for the lorry to pass. It was quite tricky as I am not good at handling reversing on a narrow road. I noticed my heritage land has been cleared and don't know who did it. I was never asked for permission to do the clearing. I guess my cousin, Sham would know and I am going to ask her what's happening. That's the problem with adat land. It's so fragmanted, being divided equally among the many females of the clan. Being the oldest daughter of my mother's child, I was supposed to have the responsibility to carry on but I was never interested. My younger sister, Anah, is the one who bothers and she should know. I plan to go back there again when Cham is home again from KL.

This is my cousin Hawa's house, a neighbour to Jaafar.

On the way to my mother's village, Kg. Durian Tunggal, Chengkau, I stopped at Rembau town, attracted by a Minangkabau design complex. It's the Crystal Village, newly opened. I met Zuhaina, the staff there who showed me the glass and crystal products and the workshop. They are beautiful. The complex accepts made-to-order design. So for those who want crystals or specially designed gifts, especially in bulk, you can contact Rembau Crystal Sdn. Bhd, En. Hanif Maulud, tel. no 06-6853100 or Hp 012-6110270 or visit website: www. rembaucrystal@yahoo.com. I hope the venture is successful but they need support from locals as well as tourists.

The Crystal Village Complex at Rembau, Negeri Sembilan.

Heading back to Port Dickson, I detoured to Astana Raja which was about 7 km from my village to see the replica of Raja Melewar Palace. I was not disappointed. The replica of the 170 years old palace is magnificent. There is so much history of the Minangkabau influence in Negeri Sembilan but because it was almost closing time I was not able to see everything in the muzeum. I was in awe at the intricate wooden carvings and the old handicrafts. On top of that the battery of my camera was exhausted. But I plan to visit the palace again as well as see the makam when I pay a visit to see my cousin soon.

The replica of Raja Melawar Palace at Astana Raja in Rembau.

As usual as I drove along the many Malay villages, I was fascinated by the old Malay houses which some are retained beautifully. So, the next time, I'll arm myself with extra camera battery and some shots of those old houses. I am particularly interseted to take a photo of my old uncle's house at Bongek which is left abandoned but the design of the house replicated the wooden staff house my family lived in the staff quarters of SITC, Tg. Malim. So Rembau, you will see me again soon.

Appreciation and pride of my Malay heritage.