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.