Datuk Mohammad Sham 20.8.1945 - 13.1.2025

 Mon 13.1.2025

It saddens me that this early this year, and in this holy month of Rejab, I had to receive this unhappy news of a friend of  64 years, at 4.30 in the morning, being called to Almighty Allah. I checked the "Who's Where" and got his birth date. Md. Sham was 79 years and 4 months old.

We were not in the same company at RMC, but kept close company when I was in Felda HQ in the 70's and he was from our auditors. Long canteen sessions at 10 am or thereabout got us sharing jokes most week days, for a long time. Felda's massive accounts took care of that. I moved on, and he moved out - to England and other companies and so forth. When I somehow got involved in the ex-FMC PD activities, we met again, and I enjoyed his company again, and I hoped he enjoyed mine.

This was the Pontian boy who was  sent by his rubber-tapper dad to school early, at only 5. This was the retired company director who had completed his studies in London, became very successful on his return, and owned luxurious homes in expensive Bukit Jelutung and Damansara Heights simultaneously. 

I remember his love for "ikan baung" and old Mazni took 2 car loads of us to the Kuala Linggi restaurant that serves fresh ikan baung  from the adjacent Linggi river. He  loved  hot Negeri cooking, and I brought him and a few others to the "Rimba" at Lavender Heights, Seremban, for its famous "masak lomak lado api". Always generous, each time he alone took care of the tab. 

This was also the Budak Boy who made our meetings fresh with his  commentary and frequent contradictions of ND's assessments. But it was always in good spirits and constructive.

A few years back I got to be somehow involved in getting the durian supply for our year-end celebrations, and he being the Treasurer, we got connected up again. It wasn't as simple as it sounds. The durians were not cheap, and the supply was not automatically guaranteed.  And the last gathering we had on 15.12.2024 was extra problematic. The fruit was out of season in all the familiar sources, and Md. Sham was sick in bed.

Hank and I visited him Sunday 7th December at his Damansara Heights house, to find him lying in bed, with the breathing aid on. We wanted to clear the purchase arrangements for the durians we finally located. I felt bad, visiting him sick in bed, and me, trying to sort out some petty matters, when his health issues outweighed everything else. He was gasping for breath, and I was trying to get his agreement for part of the purchase made.  But I did impress on his wife how sorry I was to see him in that distressing condition.

My golfing friends had fixed a game for this morning. I'd packed my gear last night, so that this morning I'd just get into the car to be at the club before 7 am. When I received the tragic news on whatsapp , I decided that the game would have to be cancelled. Checking my phone before I stood for my Fajr prayers, I got Hank's message "we'll leave at 7.30". He just assumed that I'd also got the news, and I would join him for Md.Sham's funeral prayers. He was right, of course. 

Hank was worried that "Waze" had been confused in the route set for Masjid Saidina Omar al Khattab, because it took us through "Jalan Kuchai Lama" and "Petaling Jaya" and so on. It was 9.30 and the prayers were set for 10. I just ignored his suggestion that I override and take the Bangsar route ourselves. Hank had been wrong when we went to RMC once, and he called ND and said we were lost, because the road signs said all kinds of road names but no "Sg. Besi". I said it  was all part of the route. I was driving then, just as I was driving today. We reached our RMC destination in good time then. We reached the mosque, wasted several minutes trying to get parking space in the already filled up area, and were still several minutes before the prayers were performed in the end. 

I estimated no less than 300 people stood for Md Sham's final funeral service. It's not a number that he would have been ashamed of.  How many percent of the crowd was his old RMC mates ? There were very many of them. I spoke to Asmat, Rizal Sardon, Khamis Awal, Shahruddin, ND, Nor Shaari, Halim,  and  saw Halim Ali and Mahbob  and others. We were all there, Md. Sham. We will all  miss you.

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Acam

 Sun 22.12.2024

Acam is my younger sister, third in the sibling hierarchy, and the oldest girl. She was a teacher's college graduate, and the only one who took up the teaching profession after our late father. She's retired now and lives with Karim, her husband, in Gombak. They used to live in Batu Arang, Rawang and Greenwood Park. Karim is also retired. Their two children, Eti the girl, and Ijat the boy, are both married with children of their own, staying in their own houses around the city.

When we were small in Bukit Temensu, there was one Karim Md. Nor, who stayed in the same kampong. Karim later did his PhD in Wisconsin, USA, where I visited him when attending Calit's graduation in the same university. Karim died just on his retirement in Taman Bukti, Seremban, some 20 years ago. All of us in the two families knew each other well. I used to play badminton in front of Karim's house in the evening. The house front yard, lined with split bamboo strips, served as our badminton court. We used to share  money to buy the "Bluebird" shuttlecocks we would play with our "Dunlop" rackets, until practically all the feathers were gone. Naturally we, the siblings would tease Acam, hooking her with Karim. Acam would get annoyed. That only made us tease her more.  In the end Acam did marry one Karim, but this one is from Rantau.

On Thursday 12.12.2024 Acam finally had her much post-poned bypass heart operation done at the IJN. Idah and I, together with Dekna, visited her at home last Friday evening. She was discharged from IJN Thursday 19.12.2024.

It was all a great ending, with the major heart operation successfully done. It's not something to look lightly upon. There  was a trying as well as tiring sequence of events.  First she was admitted to Hospital Pusrawi, just across the Tun Razak road from IJN, for knee problems. The heart condition was discovered there, and that demanded immediate treatment before anything about the knees could be done. Pusrawi couldn't do it. Acam was pushed to Serdang, which is supposed to replace IJN for government servants like her, IJN having been "privitised". But Serdang offered more heartache. They couldn't even get a bloody bed for her, much less medical attention ! Karim somehow got her admitted to IJN. Then she was discharged, but readmitted  Tuesday 10.12.2024, and an operation very quickly scheduled for the next day. But that was postponed to Thursday. She had veins taken from her thigh and calf, had 3 blockages cleared and stems inserted. Karim somehow managed to get the bill discounted, but the 80 K wasn't, of course, cheap. The prior agreement to pay the estimated 100K  wanted by IJN was the reason for the final admission to IJN.

We had trouble locating the Gombak house. Finally Dekna got Ijat to give the address, and after the horrendous Friday evening KL traffic, we reached the house gates about 3 hours after leaving Seremban. And I've been here many times before ! The developments in the area, including the big house now occupying the empty plot next door that used to be my guide before, made the trip impossible without "waze".

Idah had been insistent that the visit was quickly made. In the last month we had in fact visited Acam both at Pusrawi and the earlier IJN admission. But having successfully undergone the bypass, Idah wanted to see Acam for herself again.

Karim was waiting for us by the time we arrived. Ijat had called him. Idah and Dekna spent time with Acam. I said to her to rest and recover before she did anything else with her knees. We had to take our leave because it was getting late, and we didn't know how bad the traffic would be, this being a weekend.

We left Seremban at 6 p.m. We reached home at midnight.

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The durian feast at RMC.

 Tues 17.12.2024.

I should call it "FMC (1952-1966) Budak Boys' Get-together, Sunday 15th December 2024". But getting the durians was the only assignment given to me and Hank, and it wasn't as smooth-sailing as you think, and so I choose this title. And because of the durians on Sunday, and the 5-hour golf in the extraordinary heat yesterday (the game couldn't be avoided - it was fixed last week), I ended up with a bad cough, and a near-collapsing fatigue by the time I came home at almost 3 pm.  

The reunion was not the first one for us, the "FMC group". We held one such "Remembrance Day" for many years, only broken up  by the Covid 19 episode. This is the "FMC" boys, because"Federation Military College" became "Royal Military College" in 1966. In fact we started this thing confining ourselves only to the Port Dickson intakes, 1952 - 1961. In April 1962 the College moved to the first RMC camp in Sungai Besi. Years later (can't remember the date) the College moved to its present camp in Bukit Belimbing, just next door.

Not long ago we realised that the 1952-1961 group was fast dwindling. So it was decided that we extend the group's life by making it the "FMC" group, because now we can go for 5 more years. But this now looks also like we're destined, by definition. for closure, because 1966 is static,too.

That made my presence on Sunday important for me. I'd just turned 80 exactly 10 days ago. But I drove myself, and walked without a cane. Many were driven by spouses or sons, and many came with walking sticks - wheel chairs, even, like Michael Tan. Some without walking sticks no longer stand erect, like Mori,taking step by careful step, and all accepting aid from the many current BB's who were enlisted to help, especially walking up the steps.  

ND printed it as "durian fest" on the brochure, when I use the word "feast". But it refers to the same adjective regarding a large eating ceremony. 250 durians at 2 kg. each wasn't the largest durian gathering I've seen, but against the 150 BB's and spouses, and the current BB's giving their help, it was big enough to earn the "feast" description.

But what transpired before the arrival of the blessed durians, only a few of us knew.

It was not easy this time, because the durians are not in season. I scoured around Seremban, Jalan Jelebu (as  Jelebu itself - this was one source still not tested), Kuala Pilah (my source last time), Segamat, Nilai, Mantin and finally the Triang source two years ago, and all came to naught. We had 1 week left before throwing the towel. Then ND said he found a supplier in Paya Jaras. Phew !

One trip with ND got us talking to the supplier, and an order was placed for 200 durians, at RM4,500. 

But  later that day I found out that MS had actually paid a RM1,500 deposit for durians from his own source. You see, right from the beginning, Hank and I were made clear about our mission, and MS knows this, and in an earlier exchange on our phone we had taken stock of our positions, logistically. But I had never received any information from him about the RM1,500. The monetary part of this whole thing must clear MS's desk, because he was going to transfer the funds, as Treasurer of our group. I needed to get clarification from MS.  I'd committed myself to the Paya Jaras supplier.

I couldn't get any MS's response before the first Paya Jaras trip. Since the first 2 exchanges with MS before this, he had not responded to my calls and  messages. After Paya Jaras I asked Halim Shah for help, because he  often talk to MS. But this time Halim also failed to get through. The last resort to me was to meet MS in his house, and clear things up. My only concern was to make sure the durians will be there on Sunday !

So Sunday 8.12.2024  Hank and I drove to MS's house in Damansara Heights. ND had given me the address. It was sad to see MS with his breathing aid, lying in bed, coughing badly, and faintly making himself heard. Later on the actual function-day Sunday, I learned that MS is in a Pantai Hospital ward. His condition must have worsened.

The short of it was, at his house MS said he sticks to his supplier (the RM1,500 deposit was confirmed), I said I stick to mine, and he'd divide the RM4K into 2 equal portions, and we each continue with our separate supplier.

Hank and I drove back to Paya Jaras immediately after MS house.  I drove. Using Waze, we went  the KL way, not the previous Subang Airport way. We went, hoping the supplier would be there, because we didn't call him first. He was.  He was the first one to lift his hand in recognition.

While Hank went somewhere first (the loo, maybe) I quickly settled for 150 durians, priced at RM3,750. Actually he delivered about 20 fruits more.

On Friday ND called to say that MS's supplier would also deliver 100 fruits, come Sunday. We both had prepared ourselves the possible non-delivery from MS source, because of his medical problems, and leaving it all to a nephew to follow-up. MS had lived up to his promise to deliver, and all the more credit to him, in the light of his serious health issues. I don't think I'd have done it myself.

In fact Sunday, when I came out of the assembly theater after Col. Rashidin called because my supplier had arrived, and the driver wanted to be paid, I ran into MS's supplier truck that had arrived, and was calling for directions from MS's nephew about where the Lake-side durian station was. I just jumped on to the truck and directed him to the spot, which wasn't far, but a vehicle needed to take a circuitous route around the car park and the parade ground from where he was at the parking area in front of the surau. But the durian feast was still about 3 hours away.

ND is nothing if not for his meticulous ways. We don't always see the hard work of planning and managing a gathering involving many activities, involving many people, covering many locations, lasting many hours all in half-a-day. Of course, we don't always genuinely appreciate it, even if we know it. There were many meetings, many participants, over many days. Alterations, right up to the final group meeting, took place. But in the end, the get-together started, and ended in the planned time frame. It wouldn't have happened without one ND. That's why Halim said ND was the "dynamo" of the whole thing. Bravo !

I don't know if there'll another one next year. ND had indicated before that he's happy to relinquish his role. Somebody like him must be found. Our BB's have been very generous with their money and time.  The College produced these successful and loyal citizens. That's why, to me, this whole thing is working.

I enjoyed this 2024 celebration. I met a few very old friends like Wan Wahid, Murni Arshad, Aba Jiwa (a nick-name I call him by), Farid Wardi, Aziz Hassan, Jusoh Daud ( last met him in 1962), Rahman Daud and many others. But I also missed some old attendees like Shahruddin Bahaudin, Mansor Salleh, Nor Shaari, Jalaluddin Hashim, Salim Rahim and Ismail Noor and some others. Even since our last gathering, we've lost a few. How many more would leave us is a sad and  tragic certainty for not the too distant future.

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It could have been horrifically worse.

 Tuesday, 10.12.2024.

My house is on top of the hill. Jalan Aman runs in front of it, and 10 meters to the right, looking out from in front of the house, is Jalan Sentosa. Jalan Sentosa runs steeply downhill for about 100 meters until it reaches the surau, where the road branches left and right. If it rains it's slippery. Yesterday it was drizzling the whole afternoon.

Both sides of Jalan Sentosa  has large monsoon drains, about waist-deep to the bottom. There's no barricade between the road and the drains. Some years ago my wife drove my Volvo 194 GE into the left drain, and I had to call the tow service to pull it out. A careless person could unknowingly walk right into either drain.

There are many office and other workers living in this housing estate. Early mornings and late evenings see many vehicles on all the internal roads here. Not all the drivers, I used to observe, are careful and courteous to other users. I had many near misses, even when not going at any speed. Hitting someone on the road here would not take much.

Habib, 3, is my youngest grandson - no. 12. He's normal-sized, active, fair-complexioned like his mother, his grandmother and late great-grandmother. He hums the songs he listens to on the tv he likes to watch. No words. Speech seems to be coming slow, though he looks intelligent. 

My wife likes to decorate the house. If anything, I think she's overdoing it. But it pleases her, so why should it bother me. Habib, though, likes the ornaments on the tables, and can't keep his hands off, and that's a bother to my wife.

Monday morning my wife said "no lunch today".  Both cooking gas cannisters were empty. 

"That's why I got the 2nd cannister" I exclaimed. "When you finish one tank, I can take time to replace it because you have a spare one. But you don't tell me that you're on the 2nd tank. This is what happens now !"

When my daughter returned from work, it was past 6 pm. While still in her office attire, I asked for her car key to get a fresh cooking gas tank. But I went without taking the empty gas tank with me. You see, the sundry shop is run by the single shopkeeper alone. He keeps irregular hours. Sometimes he just closes shop without notice. If I brought the empty tank and he's closed, then I'd have to heave the empty but heavy tank back again. But this time he was open, so I bought the gas and said I'll bring the empty tank afterwards.

I went back in my daughter's car with the empty cannister, and promptly return home. As I turn into the uphill Jalan Sentosa towards  home, I saw something moving in the middle of the road, about 50 meters ahead. "Looks like a child" I thought. As I came closer, slowing down, but needing also to keep some pressure on pedal because of the climb plus my daughter's large MPV, I saw that it was in fact a child, running towards me.

"Where the hell is the mother, leaving this child unattended  dangerously on this road ? And it's drizzling !"  I slowed down, thumping my horn, hoping that the child would move to the side. It didn't. It kept running on the slippery-looking road towards me ! What a great shock ! When I could make out the features of the smiling, yes smiling, kid, I instantly recognized him to be Habib, my grandson !! He was maybe already 50 meters from the house, right in front of Kamaruddin Basir's house.

I don't know if I jumped out or what from the car, but the engine was on and this is an automatic car. I must have put it on neutral or stopped and somehow stepped on the foot brake, and just jumped out, ran out and grabbed Habib, who kept on grinning and waving his hands about, like he always does. I wanted to put him at the back, but decided to pull him with me into the driver's seat, and held him tight, and just drove on back to the house. Anger was boiling in me.

As I turned into the patio, I hit many times on the horn. My wife and daughter took time to come out.

"Are you all stupid ? Didn't you realize Habib had come out of the house ? He'd reached the surau !!! Are you all stupid ?" I repeated several times, at the top of my voice.

My daughter took Habib from my arms, bursting into tears, while my wife cried out "Ya Allah, Ya Allah". I'd gone berserk and kept shouting, and repeating expletives.

This  was all around 6.20 - 6.30 pm.

When I did my Magrib prayers at 7.07, I cried when I said my do'a. I didn't tell anyone I'd cried. It was simply terrifying, and I was truly facing my Maker, pleading forgiveness, and at the same time offering my gratitude at a possible horror avoided.

After my Isya' prayers, at 8.20, I went looking for Habib. He was with his dad. I stroked his head several times, in silence. Truly God Showed Mercy, and I'm thankful.

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The durian feast on 15 Dec.

 Mon 9.12.2024.

In 6 days time, the BB's from FMC-PD group would celebrate our RMC Founder's Day, in the old RMC camp in Sg. Besi. The Founder's Day is actually on 17th December, but that would be on a Tuesday, while 15th is a Sunday. 

I leave the details of the function to Hank. I just told him the time he wants me to be at Mydin S2 where he can pick me up.

The both of us had been requested by ND to get the durians for the gathering, just like last time. This is what has kept both of us busy. But we're determined not to let the BB's down on the durian feast expectation.

The real problem is  that durian is out of season from the sources we had relied on in the past.  Up to last week I personally scoured and also had asked several friends who helped me in the past to locate the durian in KP, Segamat, Seremban, Nilai and Mantin areas. To no avail. Until Saturday, when Nawi (Nawawi-lah, he used to correct us) asked Hank and I to follow him to Paya Jaras.  There our quest ended, successfully. There, right in the centre of the Paya Jaras thriving community, was this "Lubuk Durian Paya Jaras", the durian vendor "Ayoi" stall with several varieties of the fruit, just as we had hoped for.

Ayoi in fact gets his durians from all over the place except Paya Jaras itself.  Tanjung Malim is one source, and it's in fact not far from Paya Jaras by way of the old road. I believe I've found my permanent supplier for future references.

ND, the fastidious bloke that he is, wants to know the actual price for the varieties available. Since he has assigned the job to the both of us, Hank and I, we'll make sure we pick the sweet-tasting variety with the reasonable price-tag, not some fancy-named, sky-rocket-price species.

So Hank and Nawi and Md. Sham, they'll gorge themselves with 200 durians, come Dec 15th.

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Praise the Lord, I'm 80 !!!

Fri 6.12.2024.

80 !

That was yesterday. 

Sufficient good wishes came through from kith and kin to please me with the knowledge that I'm old but not forgotten.

I had fever the night  of 4.12.2024, and with a blocked nose not much sleep was enjoyed. So on birthday morning, I was the first outpatient at Dr. Miszua's clinic. I got my pills and left for the closing ceremony for the SKM accounting excersise at Klana Resort. Because of the fever, I had my jacket on. Which was good, because I bumped into the MB who was having his lunch with a group of ADUNs, and I was smartly attired.  I only know Ismail Lassim, who was there, the one who caught my attention first. It was when I was walking towards him that I saw the MB. I'd met and spoken to him a couple of times at 2 wedding receptions here in Seremban. 

"Thank you for the new allowances" I said. 

He knew what I was referring to - the State Assembly had just approved the revision to the allowances for the Assemblymen, and with it the pension for the ex ADUNs, like me.

"What about the pension ?" I asked.

"No, not included" he joked.

This morning I called Amin Ludin, the ASS in charge of the State Assembly. I related to him my exchange with the MB on Thursday. I'd wanted to see him today, but he said he's tied up the whole day. So I just asked him for the details about the allownces revision that he could not provide when I called him last week about the same subject. But the good news about the approval he broke to me at that time. Which was great, because the next day, Saturday, MUBARAK Malaysia was having its 21/2024 AGM in KL, and I was more than happy to pass a written note to Yazid Baba, our MUBARAK NS President.

In fact, with this revision, effective January next year, NS will jump from the bottom of the list for all 13 states to no. 2. It's about a 44% jump ! Only Sarawak pays more.

So in a way, my 80th birthday has been nicely honoured by the increase in my pension, Thank You Lord. But the family doesn't know yet.

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Kamariah Sabeh.

 Saturday 16.11.2024.

As I was sitting in my den, waiting for the Isya' prayers, the wife came from her bedroom, informing me that Kamariah Sabeh died this morning. Immediately I passed the information to Hank and Padir. She was Padir's classmate in the 6th form at KGV, and both entered University of Malaya together. That was how I got to know her. Hank also had some history with her, but I'll let him tell you more.

I remember one Hari Raya Padir took me to her house in Terusan Seberang. She was in her padi field behind the house. This was the early university days. Her padi planting was real. We had a lot of the padi growing in Kuala Pilah at that time (1965). When she eventually joined us on the visit, I could see the brown stain on nails of her feet, normally carried by the padi planters.

We would often bump into each other, the 2 years we were together at the university - I was 1 year her senior. We made a few mutual friends. UM was the only Malaysian university then, but the intake was only about 600 per year.

Through the years we would also meet each other, but once in a long while only, and that was because we both finally made Seremban our final stop.

I mentioned in my earlier blog about meeting her when the late Akbar Baba collapsed near his car at the Ampang Giant (now the Ampang UTC). It was all coincidental. I ran to help Akbar sit up, then Kamariah suddenly appeared. I immediately asked her to fetch some water from the nearby restaurant (it's still there).

This is a sad passing of an acquaintance I wished I had kept closer contact with. But her passing marks the passing of fond memories associated with having known her. I also knew her late husband who left her several years ago.

May God Have Mercy on you, Kamariah, amin.

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