A Short Trip to Kobe, continued 2

I was, some thirty years ago, working in Tokyo full time for almost three years and had frequented Kobe then. Kobe was then the HQ of the Contractor that was employed to build the ABF Fertilizer plant in Bintulu and they had their project office in Tokyo. I was assigned to this Tokyo office to monitor their  Engineering Design and Procurement activities. In the course of my work I had made friends with many Japanese staff, two of whom had become very close family friends. One is the Ohtanis who remained close till this day. The other was the late Kodama who passed away due to heart complications more than ten years ago.

Most of those working in the Tokyo Project Office were from Kobe and had returned to Kobe at the end of the project or at the end of their careers. Many of them are retired by now. Ohtani tried to arrange a get-together with some of these staff and only managed to get two of them to meet up. It was holiday period at this time and many of them were away.

The planned meeting was at Awajima JR station on Monday, a public holiday and the third day we were in Kobe. Ohtani and I went by car to Awajima, a half an hour drive from the house, and met Maeda san and Tori san at the Railway Station. It so happened that there was a Chrysentemum exhibition at the grounds of Awajima Castle and the four of us proceed to view the exhibition. We had alot to catch up on. It has been thirty years. Viewing the exhibits was an excuse for us to be together. Did alot of talking and very little viewing, ha ha ha! Stopped at a kiosk where ochanimizu or Japanese green tea was served in the typical, colourful Japanese chawan or tea bowls. We sat at a corner of the rather large and decorated kiosk. The tea was long swallowed and gone and we had yet more stories to share amongst ourselves.

Tired of sitting down, we took a walk in the town and crossed the market place with stalls selling fresh seafood of all kinds. It was fascinating. There were some sea urchins or sea animals that I have not seen before. On display were varied staff from the tiniest of anchovies to the larger sized rayfish larger than a car!

Lunch was at a quaint little shop or restaurant, operated by a husband and wife team, serving only tamago yaki, roasted balls of egg in batter with a small piece of octopus meat as filling. This apparently was a specialty in this town. It is normally eaten after dipping it in sauce. It had a unique taste and I guess the sauce makes the difference. There were only five tables in this shop capable of seating only about a dozen people. While we were there I noticed many customers come in for takeaways. Each of us were served a dozen of the roasted balls, each ball slightly smaller than a golf ball and all of us finished up our shares washed down with ocha. We then went for coffee in another quaint little shop nearby. Over coffee we went through old photographs, with all of us having black hairs but have now turned all white!

Ram meanwhile was at home with Ayako. Ayako's friend, a former college mate and also room mate, came visiting on hearing Ram's presence and wanted to try English conversation. Ram showed them how to cook authentic Malaysian curry chicken. I think they had alot of fun cooking and also conversing, they in English and Ram trying it in Nihongo or Japanese language!

Dinner was chicken curry and rice with some salads. Ayako chan had also cooked something that was similar to the tamago yaki except that its the version with less egg. The tamago yaki had one whole egg yolk in each, making it rich in taste. Ayako's version was milder in taste and can be taken as it is without sauce and have no aftertaste. The real tamago yaki has to be taken with sauce to eliminate the rich egg aftertaste. Both were lovely anyway, and we could reminisce over it as we have tried it many years ago in Tokyo. While we enjoyed the food Ayako cooked, the Ohtanis were enjoying the chicken curry and Toshihiko had second helpings!

 



To be continued....

MKI Ramblings Unlimited,
Kobe

A Short Trip to Kobe, continued

After breakfast on the 2nd day in Kobe we went in two cars to Awaji Island, some two hours drive from Suma-ku where the Ohtanis live. Awaji Island is connected at both ends to the mainland by wired hanging bridges. The longest bridge is Akashi Kaikyo Bridge (Pearl Bridge) which is 4 kilometers long with the longest suspended span being 2 kilometers. The stay cable on which the bridge's driveway is suspended on is slightly larger than 1 meter in diameter, made up of smaller wires of about 5mm diameter bundled up together, and each 5mm wire is made up of smaller wires of about 1mm bundled up together. This bridge is lighted up at night, different colours for different seasons. Awaji Island is well known for its large white onions which are quite sweet to taste. Its very nice taken with hot rice after it is lightly browned in olive oil over a slow fire. I was introduced to it at dinner that night and I loved it. We walked into one supermarket outlet and true to Awaji specialty, there were onions and more onions, either raw, cooked, or made into sweet cakes and the likes. They were lovely. Another unique attraction of Awaji is the swirling waters at each tide change (twice per day). To view this one have to take a boat ride to one edge of the island where the waters of the Pacific Ocean meets the waters of Awaji bay. Because of the different levels of the two waters at change of tides, the water swirls in a cyclonic formation and then it breaks. It was fascinating to view this wonder of the Almighty's creation. A truly magnificent phenomenon. We spent about two hours on the double decker sailing boat that was modernised with diesel engines!, viewing this swirling waters. It was a fun ride. Lunch was at a restaurant on the cliff at the edge of one end of the Island. It being a national holiday the place was crowded with people and we had to wait a while to obtain a table that can accomodate the five of us. Food served were mostly Japanese fusion and very tasty too. An ice cream vendor just outside this restaurant was just irresistable! Amongst the many flavours they do have, yes you guessed it, they have the onion flavoured ones. There were several view decks around the restaurant and the view? It was fantastic. One can see the Pacific Ocean and the meeting point of the ocean and Awaji bay. We took a slow walk around the park in the vicinity of the restaurant and to the car park. It was getting dark then and we headed home. Did not haveor the opportunity to view the coloured lightings of the Akashi bridge though. Perhaps it was still too early then. For dinner, the Ohtanis prepared some 'yaki imo' that is stone baked sweet potatoes for us. I used to enjoy yaki imo when I lived in Tokyo about thirty years ago and for tonight it was nostalgia. The imo that Ohtani prepared were lovely. Nice, soft and sweet. Main course for dinner was tempura, which Ram likes very much. We just could not have enough. It was lovely. To be continued...... MKI Ramblings Unlimited, Kobe

A Short Trip To Kobe

One fine evening, as I was resting in bed with my ipad in hand checking emails, a promotional message from MAS came through offering cheap discounted tickets to various destinations around the globe. These offerings were to end precisely at midnight and it was then slightly passed 10pm. One of the destinations on offer was to Osaka at RM739.00 return, which was very cheap indeed. I clicked 1st to 7th November, keyed in Ram's and my details, chose the seats and checked the total price. It came out to RM 1806 return for the two of us. I asked Ram whether she wanted to go to Kobe on those dates and told her a quick decision is in order. She agreed. I keyed in my credit card details and voila, we were confirmed straightaway for KLIA - KIX - KLIA.

Sometime later I emailed a very close Japanese family friend living in Kobe, the Ohtani's, whose two children, Ayako and Toshihiko, were like our children and they, were very close to our own children too. Informed them of my flight details and got an immediate response from Ayako-chan, welcoming us and offering us to stay in her 3 room apartment. She lives in the apartment alone and it is also close to her parent's house just about 5 minutes away by car. That settled it and we were all geared to go to Kobe come 1st November. There were excitements both sides and emails were interchanged with advices and informations for us. Although the Ohtani's have been to Malaysia many times, they also attended all of our childrens' weddings, this will be our return trip to Kobe after a very long time. About thirty years. Much must have changed in Kobe and we were excited. Also, November will be the season for Khaki or persimmon, which is my favourite and the Ohtanis' have set aside some time for us to go persimmon picking, which was thoughtful of them.

We got some Malaysian food ingredients, including curries and korma, which the Ohtanis like, to bring along with us. Packed our stuff and luggage in two bags and ready to go in the late evening of 1st November. Sita sent us to KLIA and we proceeded to check-in, went throuh immigration and on to the boarding gate all in due time although there was a very long queue to drop off our bags at the check-in counter. The flight was on time and arrived at Kansai airport at the scheduled time of just before 7.00am. Checking through the Japanese immigration and customs was easy. Tadasu and Miyuki Ohtani were waiting for us just outside of the arrival gate.

I was fortunate to be sitting by the window on the right side of the plane. As we were preparing to land into Kansai airport I observed the magnificent rising sun in the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. It was preparing to shine over the Land of The Rising Sun, as the saying goes. The rays of light emitting, getting brighter and brighter as the clock ticks on, colouring up the distance skies in various hue that left me in peace of mind. I was lost in my imagination of the beauty displayed for my eyes. So tranquil easing the soul into submission to the Will of Allah, the Almighty, the creator of this magnificent daily phenomenon.

We were also surprised to have met my cousin with his wife and son on the same flight with us. They were on holiday to Osaka and would proceed to Kyoto and later to Tokyo. They will be flying out of Tokyo back to KL.

Kansai airport stood on a man-made island on the east side of Osaka bay while a smaller Kobe airport was on another man-made island across the bay nearer to Kobe on the west side. A ferry took us across the bay in half an hour. Ohtani had parked his car at Kobe airport. It would have taken about two hours by car to go around the bay from Kansai airport to Kobe, and that too if there was free flow traffic.

Twenty minutes out of Kobe airport Ohtani took us to Kobe mosque on our way to Ayako's house. It is an old mosque, the first in Japan and built by the muslim traders who came in the early 18th. Century and has seen several refurbishment over time. It has a main prayer hall that can seat several hundred people at one time and an upper hall for ladies. Annexed to it is a utility hall with an attached kitchen and other amenities. Across the mosque is a shop selling halal food, a majority of which are imported from elsewhere, so the prices can be quite expensive comparatively. We bought some halal chicken to go. We had tea at a quaint little shop in a building near the mosque ithat was once a school and which had been turned into a food court of sorts. This little tea shop was once the school's Supervisor's office!

Another twenty minutes by car we arrived at Ayako's apartment. Lucky for us it was on the ground floor of a four storey walk up building. Comfortable. Ayako was at the community area playing tennis when we arrived and we went there to watch her. When done we went back to the apartment for lunch of rice, soup and Japanese otak-otak, some fish and vegetables fried in flour, a larger version of the popular Malay jemput-jemput or chokodok. Rice was typical sticky Japanese rice which I had missed alot. It was reminiscent of my time living in Japan some thirty years ago.

Then it was time to go persimmon picking at a persimmon farm not too far away from Ayako's house, about twenty minutes by car. For a fee, one can go into the persimmon farm, that stood on the hillside (Ram had to climb the hill with some difficulties, and so do I), eat as much persimmon as we like, and anything that we take out will be weighed and paid for accordingly. It was fun. I had six whole persimmon and Ram had five! more than enough to satiate our appetite, ha ha ha! I was like a child in a candy store, mouth agape, at the many persimmon trees each full of persimmon at various stages of ripening. It gets dark pretty early here at this time of the year. Sundown was at about 6.00pm. We spent our time in the farm until it was almost dark. No dinner that night after all the persimmon we had!!

To be continued......

MKI Ramblings Unlimited
Kobe

A True Story?

Somebody left this in my in-box and I thought I would share it as I believe, it coming through the net, it is in public domain and would not require permission to reproduce. It is verbatim with minor presentation rearrangement. Happy reading....

A True Story.  

The details of the 11th March 2011 will forever be fondly cherished in my mind's memory book. It was to witness a most uplifting experience which can only be beaten i think by my first trip to see the Holy Ka'ba at 16 which was pretty awesome! And sorry to sound so boringly cliche but the day really did start off as a normal cold morning in North London with nothing to look forward to besides the Friday sermon, but it very quickly turned into a series of divinely orchestrated happenings that nobody could so perfectly arrange except the Lord of that day.   

Having only recently returned (much against my will mind you!) from Saudi Arabia, I found myself in North London at a sleepover at my Gran's house which has never lost it's enjoyability since chidhood! My Grandmother ever full of life and I often playfully race each other to see who will be the first one to wake the house up for fajr, although she beat me that day i do usually win of course, (yeah right!). I wake up and carefully make my way downstairs in the dark to turn on the hot water so my gran is spared the hardship of a cold fajr ablution, I hear her whispering from the top of the stairs, "Son, the hot water isn't working," much to our aggravation. The boiler man was supposed to have fixed it already! No point crying over spilled milk, we brave the cold water, pray Fajr and jumped back in our warm cosy beds rescued from the biting cold.

Now I usually leave my house straight after fajr to head to my university library, but that day the bed seemed to be so much more welcoming! I snuck up next to my gran in her room the way I've always done since 10 and im not ahsmed to admit it! Doesn't take a genius to work out it wasn't long before I knocked out!    Before I knew it it was 11.10am, oh my God i was late, this is the first time I had gone to sleep after Fajr in months, i was very upset and disappointed, yet trying to convince myself it was the cold's fault! Tut tut! Grumpy I was as I left the house with my whitest dressing and newly bought muslim hat.

I got on the 29 bendy bus which, as usual, was packed out like a tin of sardines!. However, I was fortunate enough to fight my way to a seat to open my Quran and read surah Kahf on my way to Jummah prayer as is recommended. A couple of stops further I noticed a very old and fragile woman get on the crowded bus with enough shopping and bags to cause a nuisance to many who mercilessly barged her side to side! My heart warmed to her and I called her over from the other side to sit down and offered her my seat and that's where it all started. She returned my gesture with such gratitude that I don't recall receiving from anybody before, she definitely left an impression on me as she struggled to mount herself on the seat.  

"Thank you very very much" she finally said whilst seeming out of breath from climbing the chair "That's very kind of you to get up for me," she added in a very soft just about audible Italian accent. 

"My pleasure, you are like a mother to me and your right is far greater than I have put forward," I politely replied.  A courteous gesture which in the Arabic language would have been quite standard?? Yet it seemed to resonate quite deeply with her, she stared at me while her smile grew wider and wider, complimenting the blush on her face!

Wow I thought, I mean apart from how cute this old woman looked, being away for some time I started to realise the chasm between how our senior citizens are treated in the Arab world and how they are treated or mistreated  should I say back home in our London streets? Definitely food for thought and a social responsibility that needs to be urgently flagged. It's quite a woeful state and offensively shocking I think that one in five pensioners in our country as rich as it is officially live below the poverty line.   

"What's that you are reading in your hand?" she asked me. "Is it the qur'an?" she said as she smiled beating me to the answer.

"Yes!" I jumped, overwhelmed, marveling over this woman. My sympathy quickly turned into admiration and awe. She had caught my attention. She just had something about her, I couldn't put my thumb on it?

"I have always wanted to read the qur'an" she added. The passenger next to her got up to leave the bus for her stop, I rushed to fill it and learn more about this woman.

"This book is from God to raise man's conscience and guide him towards that which will allow him to prosper," i said excitedly in a trained evangelical tone.

"Yes I have come across many Muslims in my life, they are very nice and courteous people to me," she said

"That's very kind of you to say that," I replied. A barrage of questions flooded into my mind, but she seemed to tell her own story quite well to my attentive ear so I preferred to listen more than speak for now.

"Did you see the news today," she said in shock... "what happened in Japan, the earthquakes and tsunami?! it's just terrible. God is fed up of us," she remarked,  "we have made a mess of everything," she added. 

I had assumed she was Roman Catholic given her Italian background which she later revealed in our conversation.  The lady went on to quite a lengthy analysis of massive social and moral degradation. I was thoroughly enjoying our conversation, I felt like I was talking to a friend, she met my inquisitve questions with deep insight. It was clear she had seen a lot in her life.

"I am 81 years old," she smiled. I almost dropped my jaw. This woman was older than my Gran and had lived longer than most could even dream of living.  

"What do you do?" I asked.

"I own a book shop" she replied which explained quite a bit since she seemed quite well-read and with-it up there.  "The catholic church have lost it," she randomly added bringing the conversation back to religion, "only the Muslims have really held on to their teachings and values," she added.

My heart began audibly pounding now, could it be that Allah will save this woman hours before her appointment was the thought running through my head? Dawah Dawah Dawah I told myself! We continued to sing Islam's praises. One thing I can say in hindsight is that she definitely seemed impressed and almost moved throughout the conversation of the Muslims' general will to be convinced by God's law within an unforgiving culture of anti-God.   

"I am so happy that I've met you" she randomly said touching her chest as her eyes slowly welled up. Strange I thought, but i could see sincerity all over the face of this woman? A truly bizarre meeting and by this stage the whole bus was fixed on our story as it slowly seemed to be climaxing.

My bus stop was fast approaching, I quickly tried to turn the topic of conversation to what really mattered, Allah (praised and exalted be He), or at least regurgitate anything I could recall from my meager understanding of Aqeedah classes.

"Islam is a beautiful religion," I preached, "it hasn't left anything out for the guidance of man, the most important of them is His (God's) service and worship and to get to know Him. He created us and was too compassionate to leave us without a messenger to guide us to a straight path. Mohammed (peace and blessings be upon him). Everything between the Heavens and Earth celebrate His praises and He has no partners."

I noticed her leaning more and more towards me. Her shoulders now pressed against mine as she struggled to hear. I continued.

"I am so happy I am so happy," she exclaimed in her very soft tone with highly emotional break ups in her voice. "In this world, the believer is travelling to his Lord until he reaches Him, those who do not know the path to their Lord and nor do they strive to know it are truly in loss."

By this time I was praying in my heart that Allah guides this woman, she certainly seemed sincere   The water in her eyes slowly amassed while I described Allah to her until one stream managed to escape and run down her cheek.

She interrupted me as she reached for my hand, "you know I was in a coma when I was 79, I am lucky to be alive the doctors tell me, I am so happy that I've met you, God has saved me for a moment like this, oh how I'd love to read the quran, can you get one for me please, I'll give you the money?!" She reached for her bag.

"No no of course not, I will not accept, it's honestly my pleasure, how many of your likes will I get to meet again in my life," I courteously said.

She smiled and was deeply touched, I quickly learnt that she was not used to being spoken to so politely. 

"Let me give you my address," she said as she wrote it down. "Here, please send it to this address,"

"Sure," I replied, "I will drop it off personally."

"Oh, but do get me a large print," she requested, "my eyesight isn't what it used to be you see." She put the pen back in her bag and smiled as though she had been reunited with a long lost friend.

I was sitting there rattling my brains about this woman, I mean she is very old, what happens if she dies before I get to her with the Quran? What if she dies before saying the shahaadah?!

She interrupts my thinking and enquires "so where is the nearest mosque son, I know there's a very big one in Regents Park, no?"

I'm still not sure what her exact intent was behind that question but this was my chance and I'd never forgive myself if I don't take it. My mind told me that she wants to take her shahadah, but thinks the conversion process is like christianity and you must be baptised and what not! I went for it.. 

"No ma'm," I replied. "You can meet God as a Muslim merely by an utterance of the tongue, a testimony that He is one." Her face lit up as she implicitly ushered me to keep going.. "Repeat after me," I said "Ash-hadu....", "Ash-hadu"..... all the way to the end.

Slowly we completed the testimony of faith in Arabic and began to pronounce it in English. She struggled but showed determination to even pronounce every letter. And given that she was from a catholic background, pertinent to add to the shahaadah was that 'Jesus is the prophet of God and that God is above having any offspring". 

Oh no, she didn't repeat after me, she paused and withdrew her closeness to me. I was heartbroken, I really wanted her to say it, it anti-climaxed, she paused, struggled to speak.

"What a beautiful thing to say," she said much to my relief! Her voice emotionally breaks up again. She gathered her strength, "yes, yes, Jesus is the prophet of God, you know I have felt like that my whole life and didn't know where to turn I'm so happy," she began wiping her eyes now.

I fought back my own tears as my hairs started to stand on end. I promised that I'd send her the Qur'an. 

"Please write that down for me," she said "that testimony we just said, it's so beautiful," she added.

I happily obliged.

"And also please, I have a son, he's not Muslim, please can you speak to him, he's 45 years old," she pleaded.

 I was speechless and in awe of this woman's story that I could only nod my head in silence and say "of course." 

She smiled an unforgettable smile. "My name is Filomena," she said.

I smiled at her, "and my name is Ismail"  

My stop had approached, I pressed the bell, heaved my heavy bag onto my back, gave a polite smile and briskly walked to pray Jummah prayer pinching my friends, I was to meet my friends and share with them the amazing story of this women who Allah had saved from the Hellfire moments before her appointment. I only hope that I get the Qur'an to her in time...

By: Guidance of the Day (Islamic Pearls of Wisdom)

........end.......

MKI Ramblings Unlimited,

Petaling Jaya 

Mother 3 - The Old Malaya Days Cont'd

Sometime in 1957, we moved from the small government quarters to a bigger one not too far away from the old house. This new house has four bedrooms, two bath, kitchen and dining hall with a reasonably large lounge area. It was just as well as there were then six of us kids and the old house was a wee bit too small for all of us to mess up, ha ha. we had a lot of space in this new house, as it came with a large compound. We planted some fruit trees around the house and Mum, although busy in her political activists activities, could find time to plant vegetables at the back of the house. It was all of us, siblings, that had to look after the plants, watering them and tending to them. Later, four more siblings, two boys and two girls, came to join us in messing up the house. There were four of us boys and six girls altogether.

I was already in my lower secondary school, the English College, now known as Maktab Sultan Abu Bakar, when we moved into this new house. I walked to school daily and it would take me more than half an hour to reach school. I attended the religious school, Sekolah Agama Ayer Molek, in the afternoon. Afternoon school session were from 3pm to 5pm. Sometimes I have to rush to English College for sports, games and extra-curricular activities in the evenings. I indulged in most of the outdoor field games and did a lot of jogging, while indoor I participated in the debating and literary society.

Mum and Dad were always busy with their own activities and away from home often. When at home they will also be busy with their paperwork while we kids have to be 'busy' with our school work. There was no TV at that time and the radio/gramophone set was where we got local news, at specific news times, and also local entertainment programmes. The 45rpm and 33.33 rpm extended play records were our additional source of music. I vaguely remember our first set of manual gramophone. One had to wind the player up before setting the needle on the turning record to get the music to come on. One wind up would be good for one song. For other entertainment we were left with our own devices. TV was introduced in late 1963 early 1964 and in black and white. I was already in college then and away in Kuala Lumpur.

Mum, apart from being the treasurer of the Women's wing of the ruling political party, was also involved with another body, the WI or Womens' Institute, and together with some friends formed a cooperative which she headed for many years. She stepped down from running the cooperative a couple of years before she turned 90. At the same time she and several other friends started a kindergarten, which is still operating until today. Some of the early students of the kindergarten are now parents! Mum stood for the local council general elections sometime in 1958 on her own political party ticket and was opposed by a candidate from the labour party. I remember following her on her campaign trail into the villages and even some remote areas that was part of the constituency
she was to represent. We went house to house, meeting the occupants with Mum introducing herself as the candidate and the promises of what she can deliver when elected, bla bla bla........ She won the election but she stayed for only one term.

Mum also tried her hands at food business. She bid and won a contract to run a school canteen and she operated it for a couple of years. I think she stopped when she could not get good helpers to run the operation and also that the canteen was taking her away from her political activities. Basically, she is a politician first, a community activist second and business woman last. Following her closely had taught me a lot of life-lessons. The first issue I realised then was that life can be tough when you have to juggle between your various levels of responsibilities but it is how you manage your time in carrying out your responsibilities is key to achieving a good balance. Then what was tough becomes easy. Time management therefore is one criteria for life skills. There are many more life skills that I learned from Mum and Dad. I will share them here as I go on in my coming postings. May Allah be pleased......

MKI Ramblings Unlimited
Petaling Jaya

Mother 2 - Old Malaya Days

As I mentioned in my last posting, Malaya of the late forties and early fifties was under the British rule after the Japanese were defeated in the second world war. The bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki ended the war. All state and federal administrative functions were British and the Brits held the various Managerial positions, with each Sultan having a British Adviser, who not only advise but also mostly run and rule the state. The way things were handled then did not go well with the people and they formed factions to fight the British rule, the most militant of which was the Communists, who went underground. Then there were the clandestine Communist sympathizers providing them assistance as and when feasible, to counter any effort by the British to rehabilitate the country in the aftermath of the war. 

As a young boy, pre-school and primary school years, I grew up in the above era. There were curfew hours, when all have to stay indoors; there were restricted movements with inter-town travels only allowed with police escorts; and there were food rationing. If Mum and Dad wants to return to Muar from Johor Bahru, of course with me and my sisters in tow, we have to schedule our trips according to the police escort hours. If one dares to travel on their own without the escort, one runs the risk of being ambushed by the Communists or worse still, one may be marked as a Sympathizer!

We lived in a government house located very close to the main entrance to the British Advisers residence in Johor Bahru. This residence is in a fenced up, sprawling area of perhaps 50 acres in size, with a very large double story bungalow, with several servant quarters attached to it at the back. Its guarded around the clock but as a child I was free to roam the grounds and used to play there often. It has four tennis courts, a lawn bowling pitch and garages for several cars. I used to watch the Mat Sallehs (that's how we called the Brits) playing tennis and/or bowling; men in their white shirt and shorts and ladies in white skirts or gowns. I became friendly with the servants working in the house. In fact, they were all friendly with us and with Mum and Dad. (Mum and Dad are by nature friendly with everybody, irrespective of colour, creed and social standings. They were as friendly to the servants of the BA Residence as they were to the Adviser himself and this nature of theirs hold true with other members of the society we live in). The servants would often drop by our house for chats, tea and biscuits (some they bring from the 'big house') but I suspect they were 'informers' to Dad and maybe Mum as well on the BA's activities etc. Mum and Dad were with the activist movement then and any inside information of the British would be useful. Me, I enjoyed the scones, the branded British biscuits, chocolates, etc. that they bring along. I get these whenever I go into the residence as well. I even had meals there sometimes. The BA then was a bachelor, so no lady of the house to fuss over things and no children of his running around.

Mum and Dad meanwhile were active with the newly formed political party then which was fighting for the peoples' rights to self rule. They had the British to contend with on one hand and the Communists on the other. History had it that we gained independence and D day was 31st August 1957. However, all these gains were not without problems. The insurgents created a lot of havoc around the country. They continued to thwart attempts made to peaceful transitions from the British to local self rule, with the Sultans as Head of state.  The Communists would continue to attack government installations, police stations, housing communities, and even ambushed fleet of cars travelling along lonely interstate and inter town roads. The activists, Mum and Dad included, continued their fight to gain freedom from the British meanwhile. The first legislative elections were held in 1954 with a resounding victory by the ruling party that remained in power until today, winning elections after elections every four to five years. Mum stood in one of the elections and won. I remember having to assist the campaign helpers when Mum stood for elections and learnt a lot of the struggles the elders went through.

After gaining independence, there was the initiative to form Malaysia, which was to include Sarawak, Sabah, Brunei and Singapore with Peninsular Malaya. However history showed that Brunei declined to join in and Singapore pulled out after a short while. Sarawak and Sabah were indecisive. A fact finding mission was held to gauge the peoples' response to the proposal and it was headed by one Lord Cobbolt from the British East Asia London Office. Mum was one of those engaged in the mission, which was called the Cobbolt Commission. The result of the mission was a very positive yes and so Malaysia was formed with Sarawak and Sabah. I remember Mum, after returning from the mission, was treated somewhat a celebrity in the eyes of the local.  She remained as popular from then until her last days. The elders remember her very well.

Mum and Dad continued sacrificing their time and energy to the political party, with both of them holding positions in the governing body, and leading committees and sub-committees. Mum had been the Treasurer of the Women's wing for many years and Dad was the Head of the youth movement from his younger days until he no more can call himself 'youth' and that was at an age of 45, I think. At the same time he was the permanent Chairman of the movement for many many years. Both of them got voted in, year in and year out repeatedly. Not that there were no other contenders for the positions during election of office bearers, but I guess their popularity and performance when in office speaks volumes of their having been voted in again and again. This involvement by them took them away from home very very often. Many times I followed them to the politicl party headquarters and in the process learnt quite a few things about life, rights and freedoms. I was in my formative growing up years, and I think it was destined right timing for me. May the Almighty be pleased with Mum's and Dad's efforts and I am grateful that I was given the opportunity to experience what I had gone through. I am what I am today as a result of growing up in those difficult years.

Everyone were excited when news came that the late Tungku Abdul Rahman Putra, the first Prime Minister and his loyalist team members, managed to convince the British to give independence and allow self rule to Malaya. They landed in Malacca, now Melaka, on their return from the mission and were duly accorded the grand welcome they deserved. Everyone then waited for the proclamation of independence at midnight of 31st August 1957. The shouts of 'Merdeka' reverberated through the nation called by the late First Prime Minister, while the British flag was lowered and the new Malaysian flag raised in all glory. Thus began our self rule and independence. The country has prospered, ups and downs notwithstanding, ever since, and may the country continue to prosper.......

MKI Ramblings Unlimited
Petaling Jaya

Mother 1 - The Early Days

This is an attempt to relate what I can recall of the early days and the happenings in the lives of my parents, Hj Ismail bin Md Yassin and Hjh Kalthum binti Ali. I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the facts I put through but from memory recall its the best I can do. I stand corrected if any of my readers would care to straighten the facts. These thoughts will be posted here in installments, and as and when feasible.

Hjh Kalthum binti Ali was the eldest child of my maternal grandparents Ali bin Hj Budin and Dara binti Yaakob.  She has thirteen siblings one of whom, the third child, passed away in infancy and another, the fourth child, while studying at University Malaya, located in Singapore at that time. I met all, although memories of some of them are just vague, except the one who died in infancy. Eight of my Mother's younger brothers and sisters are still alive now.

Mother grew up in Muar and attended a religious school that was close to the house she stayed in. She, and a few of her younger siblings (I think there were three of them then) were looked after by her paternal Uncle, Hj Abdul Rahim bin Budin, the eldest brother of Ali bin Hj Budin. Grandpa Ali, the seventh of eight siblings, was then working in Pagoh and only came back to Muar occassionally.  When Grandpa got himself transferred to Muar, he built a house on a piece of land that he bought within the Muar township. Mother stayed in this house and continued her schooling in the religious school and then went on to become a religious teacher. I do not know whether she had any teaching training but a teacher she became.

Father, meanwhile attended Muar High School, an English school, and also the same religious school that Mother attended. That was where they knew each other. He went to work in the police depot in Johore Bahru in the early years of 1940s, possibily in 1940 itself, as a non-uniformed staff and later, presumably after he had saved enough money, married Mother. Mother, to be close to Father after they got married, got herself transferred to another religious school in Johore Bahru, continuing as a teacher and later went on to become the headmistress of the school.

1940's was when Malaya (it was not Malaysia yet then) was under Japanese occupation, in the midst of the 2nd world war. I was told that times were hard then. There were not enough food, freedom of movements were curtailed, and the Japanese were tyranical slave masters. One of my uncles, Father's younger brother, Abdul Jalil, died at the hands of the Japanese when he was in his late teens. I came along in the midst of the Japanese occupation. I was initially left in the care of my grandparents in Muar until I was about two years old when Mother brought me along with her to Johore Bahru. When she goes to teach in school I was left with a neighbour who babysits me and a little later my sister as well. A couple of years later Father was given a Government staff quarters to live in and by then Mother managed to arrange for a live-in maid to look after us little kids! Several years later we moved into another quarters which was much bigger and just as well, since the family had grown bigger. All my ten siblings were born between these two Government quarters.

As a result of the war, and the running of the country, first by the Japanese and later the British, coupled with insurgency of the communists and anti-British movements, times continued to be hard. You all would have read these in history books in school, and if not books on them are available in the library. Food were rationed, especially rice and each family had to keep food ration cards, There were curfew hours and there were restricted residents areas. All these had incited the locals to fight for their rights of freedom. They moved towards obtaining self rule and independence from the British which was obtained after much effort from all locals irrespective of race and religion. I grew up in this era. The era of activists, strong political inclinations, to the right or to the left, and my parents were deep into the thick of things. They fought, together with other activists of the time, the formation of the Malayan Union, a British attempt at further dividing the people and ruling them!!, They continued to be active through the years after that in politics.

As a small boy, from pre-school and through primary school, I often followed my Father and Mother or one of them at a time, to their political meetings and gatherings. I used to listen to the speeches, some fiery, some hard-hitting the British (and I think the pro-British locals as well!!) and some thought provoking on the future of the nation. I used to bring along my school work and home work with me when I followed them. I knew almost all the political leaders of the time and listened to their speeches, their ideas, ideals and what they fought for. Coupled with what I saw in terms of various developments, the happenings around us, the transformation of the country into an independent state, formed the basis of my own political thinking and ideals. My Father and Mother were my role models then. They showed me the way, I may not agree totally with them then, but they showed me the way, and I took it all to be what I am today, physically, socially, emotionally and spiritually. May Allah bless them for all their sacrifices, and for giving their hands guiding us, their children, to be who we are today. May Allah be pleased.....

MKI Ramblings Unlimited,
Petaling Jaya