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.
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