A mystifying end

1. I was born during the last nine years of his life when he was in his mid-60s. How I wish I could write a vivid account of my childhood memories of him, but unfortunately I have a very poor memory. Those childhood memories fade with time; what remain are patches of blurred episodes in my mind.

2. I knew nothing of the story behind his marriage to my mother—so very late in his life. She was probably about 46 years his junior. I suppose they made strange bedfellows on account of the fact that he was a man of the world, educated and of wide experience whereas she was a very shy, naive, illiterate village girl who mostly kept to herself.

3. That said, I tried to console myself by reflecting on a common Malay axiom which goes, ‘Jodoh terletak di tangan Tuhan,’ which literally means ‘one’s partner is predestined by God.’ This saying is especially uttered in the face of ‘unexpected’ marriage.

4. My father remarried after his first wife passed away and before long the same fate befell his second wife, a widow, who had a son who became attached to him. He had no children of his own from his first two marriages. Probably, he must have been greatly elated to have been blessed with three children after marrying my mother—prompting him to publicise our respective births in a local newspaper.

A childhood photo of me with my father's portrait 

in the background

5. I believe the boost had also led to occasional trips to George Town apparently to bring us close to his side of the family. The trips—so very faint in my mind—took place before my schooldays, after which there was no more trips to his home town which he left in order to come over to Alor Star where he made a name for himself as a distinguished civil servant.

6. I grew up in a big wooden house along a main road about three miles from town. Until now I have no knowledge of the history of the house. It seemed that my father was contented with life living in the big house amid the family members of his stepson. There is a faint episode that still sticks in my mind where he tutored a young member of the royal family in that very house.  

7. As far as I recall he was still active before I entered primary school towards the mid-50s. He was working at the time but I didn’t have the slightest idea of what he was doing then. Deep in my mind there hung a blurred episode of climbing a flight of wooden staircase in a shop, following him up to a crowded office upstairs.

8. I didn’t spend my entire childhood with my parents; I stayed with my grandmother as well. Being fond of me, she used to take me regularly to stay at her place which was within walking distance of my parents’ abode.

9. There were things going on in the last three years of his life that I wasn’t very clear about. I supposed he was disappointed when I wasn’t accepted to enrol at a premiere school where he was one of the pioneer headmasters. He was grumbling when he took me on my first day of school to enrol at a missionary school instead. 

10. I guess it was during my third year in primary school that the village carpenter and his son started to build a wooden house extending from the front of my grandmother’s house. By and by I learned that it was my mother’s house they were building and we were supposed to move there upon its completion.

11. I wasn’t fully aware that my father’s health was gradually deteriorating at that time. My mother was always nagging him to move out of the big house but he refused. I had a feeling that relations with the family members of his stepson had soured. It ultimately led to a heated argument that took place one night. I have but a very faint memory of the incident that led to our departure from the big house. We all moved out—along with my ailing father—to my grandmother’s place.

12. My father was bedridden as his illness worsened and before long he breathed his last at his in-law’s. His remains was then placed at the newly built house and eventually buried at the local cemetery.

13. So much for my childhood memories of my father. It was not until 2013 that I began my research on my father. Only since have I learned facts and figures about his career and life in general. The information that I’ve garnered formed the basis of my reflections that follows.

14. I was nine at the time of his passing. His death was a bitter disappointment to my mother. As I grew older she told me there were only a few pitiful ringgits in his bank account. He left us neither a fortune nor a legacy.

15. That said, it was a curious ending. He was a grandson of a well-known merchant in George Town at the turn of the 19th century and his father was also an established merchant in his own right. My father joined the Kedah Civil Service in 1911 and retired on a good pension from the state government in 1937. He drew 222 ringgits and 86 sens monthly—quite a substantial amount at the time. After his retirement from the civil service, he apparently took up private practice.

16. Later during the war my father was called back by the state government and served as legal adviser and public prosecutor until British re-occupation and the BMA. After his retirement for the second time, he was appointed unofficial member of Executive Council and Council of State until 1954.

17. Ergo, it’s inconceivable that my father—a worldly-wise man of wide experience—would leave his wife and children with practically nothing to live on when he was gone. It seemed unlikely that he hadn’t given our welfare some thought. There remains a big question mark over what had actually gone wrong.

18. Of course rumours surfaced about his supposed bequest that was embezzled and that we were supposedly victims of misappropriation. That said, speculating about the rumours would be pointless. Nonetheless, the ending of my father’s life is arguably shrouded in mystery. It would remain obscure indefinitely.