The first lady CJ retires. Quietly.

 Wednesday 2.7.2025.

For maybe the last decade I've been playing golf once or twice weekly with three former judges. How that came about merits  another story. The point is, I get caught with judicial stories, and the current one is about the "quiet" retirement of the country's first lady CJ. I thought that fact alone should merit the "conventional" practice of a 6-month extension as a show of appreciation. Why, Najib even gave one past CJ a 2-year extension that he accepted, knowing full well the legal extension was for only 6 months. When this was later legally challenged, he knew the game was up and resigned promptly and avoided the likely shameful proceedings looming.

We were exchanging notes at the club this morning. The 3 of us, other than the solo ex Appeal Court Judge, are non-lawyers. We more or less agreed that the retired CJ best go quietly. The public would sympathize with her and condemn PMX.

The awarding of the traditional 6-month extension would have been a well-deserved honour for the first lady CJ of Malaysia. Getting to the bench itself would have been something special, what more to have reached the pinnacle of the Judicial position.

This glaring disregard for such meritorious service-recognition speaks loudly of the perpetrator more than the victim.  Any reservation for the due honour cannot be understood, much less accepted. Lately more than one bearer of prominent posts of various government  departments have been promoted, or the tenure extended, when negative stories hounded them. What negativities has the retired CJ been implicated with ?

My call to Tun Tunku Maimun is, relax and enjoy your well-earned retirement. Let the petty-minded, nay, ex convict, gloat in his temporary hold of the power of office, exposing his meanness and  lack of class.  God Knows.

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The Monday 9th East-West highway horror.

Thurs 12.6.2025.

Only after 4 days after the tragedy could I find time to post this sad blog. It's something I must do, before all this disappears under the pile of stories through time.  Grave lessons must be learned. All remedial actions should be put in place. The Law must be enforced. The lives lost cannot be regained; but morale uplifting can, and sadness placated. And certainly material compensation must be legally sorted out. 

15 young university students ( probably almost half of the bus total passengers ) had their precious lives horribly cut short when the bus, driven in the unearthly hours of the morning, crashed with another vehicle on the notorious East-West highway up north of the Peninsula.  

15 bright futures were erased. 15 future great educators were lost. 15 dreams of doting parents were destroyed. And how many siblings, relatives and friends will forever hang on to only memories of the dear departed, cruelly wrenched from their lives  in circumstances open to scrutiny, demanding open scrutiny.

I have driven on this highway before. I know the dangers lurking at every tortious turn. There have been too many road tragedies here.  The authorities must make absolutely serious effort at addressing this as the no. 1 action from Monday's horror. Basic necessities like well-marked road borders with luminous paints, street lights (solar-powered or whatever), and many lay-byes for frequent rest of tired bodies immediately come to mind.

I can relate with UPSI, the university concerned. My late father taught there in 1951 to 1956 when it was just SITC.  A niece did her Masters there where it was already UPSI. 

The second action should be strict enforcement of passenger-vehicles road worthiness. Regular tests are already in place, but poor enforcement, a sad Malaysian reality that I have written about many times, makes the real difference, and in this case, tragically, of life and death. If found true, the failure of the operators must be punished accordingly, and punished fully.

The third action should be strict enforcement of qualified drivers for passenger-vehicles like buses. And "qualified" here must include the state of health at the time of work. The driving licenses can be easily checked, the health test conducted. The owners cannot escape the responsibility of employing only qualified and safe drivers.

The fourth action should be the full legal action against the bus operators for compensation of loss of lives and limbs, and of properties ascertained. All due compensations under the law must be awarded to the beneficiaries, and similarly all punishments served on the preparators. 

No finger-pointing here. Just stating the facts. Mostly ruing  the  precious young lives that were unnecessarily lost. 

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Bangdek.

 Fri 16.5.2025.

At 12.30 p.m. Wednesday 14.5.2025, in Room 4, Ward 7 HTJ Seremban, Dato' Ahmad Tajuddin bin Ujang succumbed to the second stroke he had before Subuh prayers on Sunday at home 10 days earlier, on Sunday 4.5.2025. His remains were interred at the cemetry in Taman Zaitun, Sikamat after the Asr prayers of the same tragic day, Praise the Lord. Second surviving son, Kamal, led the funeral prayers as well as the Talqin. Bangdek breathed his last in front of his wife, and younger sister, Nodi. They said Bangdek went quietly, peacefully. From Him we come, to Him we return.

Many brothers and sisters necessitated the moniker "abang adik" or both "older brother" and "younger brother" combined. Of course this was eventually shortened to "Bangdek".

Among the closest surviving kin, I'm the oldest who knew him longest, back to 1950-56, when our fathers, both from NS, were teaching at the SITC Tg. Malim. Idah, a sister and later my wife, was born in 1950. Bangdek was born in April 1941, making him exactly 84 when he died.

This year we spent the entire Ramadan praying at all the "waktus" except Magrib together, and mostly very close together, at the Sg. Landak mosque. I'd made an effort to do all my prayers (except Magrib) at the mosque each Ramadan.. As far as I know, Bangdek performed all of his at the mosque, even bringing along his breaking of fast meals, something I couldn't do. But while I stopped after Ramadan, Bangdek maintained his practice. This late in his life, he was determined to finish his days as a pious Muslim. Earlier this year he also went for the umrah, before Ramadan. I've lost count how many times he'd done his umrah. I'd only done it once, poor me.

Our lives and work, Bangdek and I, had crossed paths often and intertwined much. 

In school and into early retirement years, Bangdek was a great sportsman. At MES, Tg. Malim he already made his mark as one of the few Malays playing cricket, and playing it very well. Tennis came a bit later, but lasted until retirement. He was a classy player, with those beautiful swings of classic tennis. He was very good at it,  playing for school, college and his senior team when at work.   So when golf came more seriously towards retirement, it was an easy switch. Like tennis, his golf also was classy - those easy swings coming naturally to him. I say these because I watched, and in golf played countless rounds with him until he had to stop because of his compressed spine. Then, as part of the attempted remedy, he was a regular morning swimmer at the SIGC pool, until his handicap forced stoppage. I've been an SIGC member since 1978 (47 years ago). but  I've never entered the swimming pool even once.

We even shared the same neighbourhoods several times. 

There was Kampong Baru, KL in the 60's. I'd just joined Felda from my Melaka first job, and was staying with Aziz (Dr.,Tan Sri ex RRI, now Chairman of Majlis Ugama Islam NS) on Jalan Mahmud. We experienced May 13 there, and Kampong Baru was one of the hot spots. Bangdek was staying at Kak Zawiah's house on the same road. I never mer Bangdek or Kak Zawiah there, but met the late Aji, his younger brother, several times, walking past our rented house. We'd stop him and chit-chat.

Then it was Jalan 4 C Ampang Jaya, and we stayed on the very same road. That's how I met, again, with Idah, and met Ari and Kak Zawiah and the late Pin, the eldest boy. This was 1970, I think. Some years later Bangdek moved to "Juwita", on the other road across 4 C, but this one his own. Ai "Ci O Lady" the Singapore nephew, lived with him then.

Then my first stay at "Fortune Garden" saw me and Bangdek as neighbours  again, but by then I was already married to Idah.

My second move to this housing estate saw the name-change to what it is now, Taman Dato Shahbandar, but Bangdek also moved to his present address at Jalan Indah, having bought it. By then Bangdek was the State Secretary, the top job in the state, and I was the State Assemblyman for Senaling, KP, but staying in my newly bought  Jalan Aman house here in Seremban. He helped me get my pistol licence.

When we were in KL in those days, before PLUS and the current hellish traffic jams, Saturdays would find us on the Bukit Putus meandering pass to KP together, many times, though never planned. I was in my Fiat 124, and I'd come up to an old Citroen taking his time, recognizing it straightaway. It was Bangdek. Once he also drove a Volvo sports car. but I don't think he ever found out the top speed.

When I was still just a senior officer in Felda hq, and we were in Ampang Jaya, Bangdek called once asking to arrange an appointment with the DG. Bangdek was with the Agriculture Department, or Ministry. After his meeting we spoke for a while. That's when he said "Faridah ada kat rumah". Was that an invitation ? I knew her even before university, because my mother's house is very close to TKS where Idah  went. Anyway, one day (a Sunday) I'd just came back from a date, and it was around 6 pm, and Idah sauntered in front of the house just as I was taking off my shoes. I looked up, greeted her, put my shoes on again, and took her for a spin. That was the start of a now 53-year story. This month she'll be three-quarters of a century old !

We visited when those days  Bangdek was at the Federal Hill and Jalan Pekeliling quarters. By then Ijoi had joined them. Nodi was in Jalan Permai, Taman Dato' Shahbandar.

At the mosque when arranging for the washing of the remains of Bangdek, I called Hank and informed him about Bangdek. He had remained active with the OPA. In fact the morning he was taken to HTJ he had the yellow OPA tee shirt on. Later Nawi called, when I was at the cemetry, to get details about the sad news. I'd seen the posting on our website later, and saw the sad responses.

I've not just lost a brother-in-law. He was a friend. May God Bless his soul, Amin

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Tomah Maidin

Sun 20.4.2025

Hj Muhammad Maidin invited me for a tahlil and Raya do at his house this morning. It was the first time I went to the house, which is actually not far from mine, close to the KGV Primary School where my three grandchildren are pupils. I was there at 11, as per invitation, but as usual, this was early.  But there were about 8 - 9 early birds under the specially erected tent already.

The host comes from Kg. Bukit Temensu, Kuala Pilah, just like me. In fact Tomah Maidin, the late mother, is known by everybody in Bukit Temensu. She was the Malay from Kg. Galau, Gunung Pasir, Seri Menanti, who married Maidin, the Indian sundry shopkeeper in Kuala Pilah town, one of the better-stocked stores then. She became known in the kampong as a well-to-do woman who bore several children from that marriage, and I knew all well except for Ali, the eldest, because he was already running his well-known cafe in Melaka and Seremban - "Ali's Cafe". There was Suman (Othman), Usop (Yusof), Ajak (Razak), Minah (Aminah) the only girl, and Muhammad, the youngest. Usop I knew particularly well because we attended the same religious class, and I visited him at his large, white-painted house many times while I was still schooling in KP.

I remember the large send-off for Tomah and Maidin for their haj with their youngest, Muhammad, who must have been pre-school at that time. This was uncommon, this young kid going for the pilgrimage. It was always the elderly at that time, because of the need to fulfill this Islamic obligation before one's death, plus the need to save money for it, especially for the self-employed kampong folks. In fact many sell all their worldly properties to finance their sea-voyage for what was viewed as the final fulfilment in their lives. This was the scenario that confronted the late Professor Ungku Aziz in his rural economy studies that resulted in his designs for the later realized "Tabung Haji". I believe the whole country owes Ungku Aziz for TH\s existence today, and every single pilgrim's blessing, knowingly or unknowingly, goes to Ungku Aziz, for eternity.

Having reconnected with Hj. Muhammad here in Seremban since I moved here in 1995, I often inquired about his brother Yusof. This morning was the first time we met again since probably 1960, a good 65 years ago. The lapsed time showed, of course, but the face was still recognizable under the white hair. We also share both the same number of children and grandchildren (4 and 12), but he's ahead of me in having 2 great-grandchildren. My oldest grandchild is only a freshman at the university.

When I was posted to Melaka in 1968 I ate at the Ali's Cafe in Melaka town, run by the eldest brother. There was another Ali's Cafe in Seremban, later. Then there was Fatimah Restaurant, also in Seremban, run by Ajak. Minah later operated a restaurant at the Malay bazaar, Kuala Pilah, while Suman ran a restaurant at the MARA complex, also in Kuala Pilah. Hj. Muhammad's Petronas petrol station came later. Now apparently only the petrol station is in service. I see Ajak once in a while when I go to the Paroi Jaya shops.

When schooling at TMS, Husin the Qadi's son from Kg. Galau, who was my classmate, stayed with Tomah Maidin. The two families knew each other, coming from the same kampong. Husin had to stay in Bukit Temensu. There was no way he could commute by bus to school from home. We were classmates from Form 1 to Form 3, after which I joined FMC (later RMC) at PD.

Husin and I were close through our lives right until his sadly early passing not long after he retired. I went to his house but missed the funeral at the cemetery because Puchong traffic then was already bad, but waited for the widow to return home. I'd since attended one or two of the children's weddings, I can't precisely remember how many now.

When with Tomah Maidin, Husin said the parents were contemplating matching Husin with Minah. But Husin said she was too tall for him (she was).

When Husin got married, finally, in Bilut Valley, Raub (the Felda scheme) I went, in my Fiat 124. It was a long trip, but it was fun, because there was scarce traffic then.

Tomah also, my aunties told me, tried to match Minah with my Pak Chu Kamil, who was a magistrate at that time. She would often visit Pak Chu Kamil's family house (he was working elsewhere at that time) in Bukit Temensu, picking "ciku" and talking to Wan Aji, Kamil's mom, and Makcik Jenap, his sister. Nothing came out of it. Pak Chu later married a Perak gal. Pak Chu retired as a high court judge.

I learned later from Hj. Muhammad that Jaafar Shahardan passed away a few days ago. I didn't hear about it. I knew him well. The last time we met was at the pasar tani in Ampangan, maybe 1 year ago

I left before 1 pm, asking Hj. Muhammad to give me Usop's number later. It's good to freshen old friendships. While we're still around.

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My long lost friend is no more.

 Sat 29.3.2025

Brigadier-General Datuk Mohd. Fahamy bin Hj. Husin sadly died yesterday, Friday, in this Holy month of Ramadan, both the day and the month, to the Muslims, sacred. To raise that status, these last 10 days are also deemed to be the holiest part of Ramadan. I pray that Fahamy truly left this world in great honour.

Fadzil passed the sad news last night. I passed the message to the given number, Fahamy's son-in-law, inquiring about the funeral arrangements, and he quickly informed 10.30 am this morning at the Kg. Melayu Ampang, KL, mosque. I'd resolved last night that I'll attend his funeral prayers. It's the least I can do.

Idah didn't agree  that I go alone all the way to Ampang Hilir, KL, what with weekend and eve of Raya traffic, plus my cough n cold. I said this was a close friend of 65 years, from the small town of KP, and  grand ol' TMS. I didn't add about the years before my university, and the long days in Kg. Parit, with Mat Karim and Kamil, the movies at "Rex", mee Ibrahim and the cendul at the old Malay bazaar, and the Datuk Keramat stays, and the many Sri Jaya bus trips around KL and PJ, when Mat Karim was a clerk at Telecoms, KL, and Fahamy a clerk at the Federal Building in Section 14 PJ.

Mat Karim was always talking about that female clerk at his office, and we were always teasing Fahamy about Rosmini, the policeman's daughter, also from Kg. Parit. In the end both couples got married, happily to the end in Fahamy's case, apparently (I only attended one of the children's wedding), but Mat Karim's ended in divorce.

I enrolled into university in 1965. Both clerks got into the RMC Cadet Wing's short commission and ended up in different regiments in the Malaysian military forces. They were the same stock, Fahamy and Mat Karim. But their military careers couldn't have been more different. Mat Karim retired as a Major. And he died many years ago, in Kuantan.

As the three of us went our separate careers, we lost contact. Once in a while I would get a gist about either one. I even visited Mat Karim at his PJ house once, meeting his wife and children. Fahamy much later I would bump into at the KP Police gun license renewal sessions, at 2 different times and places, and we got to talk and ate and drank, but that was it. But the memory is still there.

So I decided I was going to Fahamy's funeral all the way in KL. Still, some urgent Raya food shopping had to be done first. So this morning, instead of going to the mosque for the fajr prayers on my scooter in my "mosque-attire", I took the car and wore my t-shirt and trousers, ready to shoot off to KL after the mosque and the wet-market. I had to be at the mosque in KL by 10.30. It was 8.30 when I left the house, Idah pleading not to go. But I made it before 10. In spite of the usual city traffic. But I must add, some pretty fast driving took place. Not all the time. A lot of time. I made sure the C200 Kompressor wasn't letting me down.

Fahamy was born on 30.7.1945, so he was not quite 80 yet. I asked his son-in-law as we were about to perform the funeral prayers if Fahamy was ill, and he said no. But I saw his face when the shroud cover was opened so the loved-ones could have a last look, and he seemed different. I know that happens to people when they die, but I thought he didn't look like the Fahamy I once knew well. I also got a very recent photo that must be only days old, and Fahamy didn't look well there, too.

I suggested to his son-in-law that Fahamy's son lead the final prayers for his dad. It's just 4 "takbirs", I said.  The mosque Imam also suggested one of the children lead the prayers, but there was no response. There was a good crowd.  I was surprised to meet Brig-Gen Hashim Abu, a fellow "BB" from RMC days, who came with many ex officers. Fahamy would have been very happy.

I quietly shed some tears for my old friend, as I stood just next to his shrouded remains in that mosque, and in my heart pleaded Allah for his Blessings.

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My 81st Puasa.

 Fri 14.3.2025

My 81st Puasa (by year, not practice) is almost half-way done. It's good to reflect on what has taken place so far.

Definitely, because it's obviously about eating, we talk of appetite, but it is "less", now.  The fast causes hunger, of course, but breaking it does not stress too much on what and how much now. It used to be eagerly looking forward to the favourite dishes. Now it's whatever we have. And I need to quickly join the mosque Isya' congregation, so it's half-a-plate of rice, the fruit juice and a cooled cup of black tea, and it's a solo Magrib in the room before taking the scooter to Masjid Sungai Landak 5 minutes away. They finish at 10.15 pm, then back in the house for "more", and I hit the hay before 11.15 pm. But I'm up at 3.30 am !

Each Ramadan I'd managed to read the full Quran almost twice. I'm at that pace now, but plan to read the translation for the second round this year. It won't be easy because the Malay version is not, to me, written in a "readable" way.

Already there was death in the family, only a few days ago, in Selaru. Ari and Idah went.  I could have gone, but Ari picked Idah while I was at the Subuh prayers at the mosque.

Then Idah got mugged right in front of the house, at 10 in the morning, 2 days ago. The mugger surprised her from behind just as she came out of the driver's seat. The broken driver's side side mirror is one remnant of the short, rough struggle that ensued. The robber got away with one of the 2 gold bracelets she wears all the time, by the time Rashid, our neighbour, came out shouting at the daring robber. He took off on his motorcycle he had left with the engine on. But Rashid was quick to note the registration number, which the Police later quickly traced to a Penang Indian woman. Dekna got the Police immediately alerted, and in her position, I suppose, they acted surprising fast. So fast in fact that by that afternoon they came to the house and both Idah and Rashid were able to identify the photo of the man who, to them, looks like the mugger. He has a long Police record, apparently.

And yesterday, immediately after we finished our Subuh prayers at the mosque, Bang Dek, who prayed next to me, suddenly collapsed as he tried to get up from the chair he sat on for the prayers. Everybody came around to give assistance. His face was pale. A doctor among us tried to help with his breathing, but Bang Dek managed, with assistance, to sit up on the floor, where we told him to just stay there until he felt stronger. Finally we got him to sit and recover his breath on the chair. Kak Zawiah, his wife, who came to the mosque with him, called Kamal, their son. A few minutes later Kak Zawiah helped him walk slowly out of the mosque to wait for Kamal in their car parked just in front. I called Idah and Ari and we all went to Bang Dek's house, finding him already resting in bed, his complexion back to normal. I advised him to get Kamal to see Dr. Miszua, just to check up.

Hank called, telling me he just bought a C Class Mercedes-Benz. We both had planned to get him that model from Sam last month. But Hank had some outstanding monies issue from the buyer of his condominium, and aborted the arranged purchase of the car already selected.  So now that he has received his money, his GF helped pick the car that he then bought quickly. 

In the mean time, that first car planned for Hank has found home -  with me. Sam and I had gone to so much trouble over it already. We thought I might as well take it, to replace the Honda that I'd sent to Sam for some repairs. So that's how I'd ended up with my 5th Mercedes-Benz, but my first C Class. At 81. On my 81st Puasa.

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Slow-golf syndrome.

 Sat 1.2.2025

In my almost 40 years of golf, I saw plenty of it and am sick of it.

Golf's still 18 holes, 14 clubs, and holing the round ball in as few strokes as possible. Other than that, the 2 world-ruling authorities of the Royal & Ancient St. Andrews and USGA have, since 1400, been trying to, at different times,   work together / fight each other; speed / obstruct changes;  cause confusion, exasperation and condemnation  to the players who are living off the game / turned off by it; who  swear by / swear at it.  

A few years back Greg Norman had been trying to change world golf focus from USA  to non-USA, aided by  the deep-pocketed Arab sponsors. Money changes things. That's been applied to sports before. It worked. Now better things are coming to golf ?

In the last 600-plus years the game itself went through many changes:  the size and make of the ball - even in my own experience I went from 1.62" to 1.68", with different number of dimples and all the colours of the rainbow ; the clubs - from steel-shafted woods that were real wood to all kinds of alloy shafts with all kinds of club heads made from everything except wood; from steel spikes to palstic studs on the shoe-soles; the dress-code for different sexes - long sleeve with tie for men, and knee-length dress and socks for women, to now whatever you like, man or woman - only tuck in that  damn shirt !; the number of holes; the size of the field (the number of players). 

Today the last one change that has been the longest overdue and yet easiest to impose is finally on the authority's plate. Slow play.

Surely, this is the one curse that needs no magic spell to remove. 

The problem is, unlike other sports, there is no rigid time frame each time a golf match is run. Football (I mean soccer), rugger, hockey et el  have it;  the racquet-sports have it, in terms of the intervals between sets; all water-sports have it. Not golf.

Of late, on some golf tours, the officials threatened to penalise players  for "slow play" decided by the watching marshal. I'm yet to see one. 

You have to experience it, like I have, to know the pain of it. And the worse part would be to play behind a maddening slow flight, but in front of an equally maddening fast flight !

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