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.