A daughter's care, and about Malaysian health care.

 Tues 19.8.2025.

The door  reads:

Dr. Hamid Hj. Ghazali

MD (USM), MS (UKM),

Board of Urology

Pakar Perunding Urologi.

But this was Kuantan, Pahang.

Here at home in Seremban, Idah had complained of severe pain in her abdominal area about a week ago. As usual it was off to Dr. Miszua. No government clinic for her in spite of my repeated pleas "even Bang Dek goes to the Government clinic, and he was the State Secretary !" The complain, of course, is always about the big crowd. But you can't avoid that.

Anyway, Dr. Miszua suspected she was having bladder / kidney stones, and gave the appropriate pills as immediate temporary relief. The pain went away for maybe a day, and it came back, and it was off to the doctor again. This time I went along to ask for a letter for referring her case to the medical specialist at HTJ (if any). I got the letter. And none too soon. The very next day she had the attack again, and Dekna dutifully took her mother, with that letter,  straight to HTJ. It was about 7 p.m. They were there until the next day.

Dekna said HTJ asked to have alternative examination for the bladder and kidney infection. To get to the local urologist, she has a whole year to wait ! One bloody year !

Dekna didn't waste any time going to the next step - a private clinic examination.  An ultrasound scan at Mawar gave the confirmed images of 2 stones lodged in the bladder and kidney. Next Dekna took her mother to an Urologist at KPJ. The full brief on the medical situation was presented. Then she got on to Dr. Hamid in Kuantan. An appointment was made for Monday 18.8.2025. Dr. Hamid must have pushed aside other patients, that's for sure. The point is, Dekna pulled it off.

They had to leave for Kuantan Sunday. It's not just the distance that confronted them; the traffic wasn't going to be a picnic.

Dekna quietly cried when she bade me goodbye. "She's the only mother you have" I tried to console. I couldn't meet her request that I come along. I had an appointment with the bank and my Treasurer from MUBARAK NS on Monday afternoon, regarding our Koperasi accounts.

Dekna kept us, me and her brothers, updated, almost by the hour. So we knew Idah didn't sleep - she kept going to the toilet, until finally there was blood in the urine.

Before 8 a.m. Monday they were already at Dr. Hamid's clinic. But it was only at noon that Idah got inside. She had to undress fully for the procedure of "laser shooting".

What a big surprise for everybody !

"Auntie ! What do I shoot ? There's nothing to shoot !" the doctor exclaimed.

Apparently the stones have been excreted. That was the blood in the urine last night.

So instead of a second night in Kuantan, by 7 p.m. Monday both mother and daughter were back in the house in Seremban.

And I got my "kacang goring Sempalit".

That, briefly, is a daughter's care. For the government, that was your care for the people.

Nothing wrong with my daughter. Everything wrong with public health care in the country.

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My beloved Habib's repeat of 9.12.2024.

 Sun 17.8.2025.

For the last week or so, the internet connection in the house had been going crazy - on and off, on and off.  I tried to call Telecoms through "100", but like everything in Malaysia now, all public services have gone "on line" with scant regard for Old Timers like me, born pre-"AI", with no familiarity with all these gadgetry-smart 'phone connections. The recorded Telecom answer asked to do this and that until "your time is up" and the line went dead. Yesterday, Saturday, Dekna was home, so I asked her to call Telecoms to complain about the internet disruption. Of course she got through, and eventually got the assurance that the technicians would come this Sunday morning, 10.30 a.m.

I waited from 10.20 a.m. until 2.15 p.m. before 2 very young technicians wearing Telecoms t-shirt finally came. They said they were not told about the 10.30 a,m. part, only to come and solve the problem. So they took little time in just replacing the old black router with the separate modem connection with a brand new "combo" unit that requires no separate modem. The internet line is clear, but the old router has internal connection problem. That was the brief explanation from the young man. Great. My table is neater - only one piece of equipment, with one cable, and the other pieces and cables that cluttered the table are now gone. 

That's not my main story here.

It's a repeat of what my dear, lovely, Habib did on 9.12.2024.

At about 12 noon, I was reading the whatsapps on my phone when a red car drove up to the gate. The Malay driver came out as I got up from my seat to see if it was the Telecom team I was expecting. Instead the man asked "is this child yours ?" pointing to a child I could spot just the top of the head under the front left-seat window of the car. Why, it was Habib !

I grabbed him, and he stiffened his body, making it more difficult for me to pick him up. "My grandson !" I exclaimed, repeating the words to the woman who had come out of the back seat. "This is the second time" I repeated a few times to both man and women, without explaining what I was talking about. "We saw him there, and knew he had snuck out without the parents knowledge. We opened the car door and he just climbed in" they both said, motioning to the same road that Habib took the first time. Climbing in is understandable, because Habib does that all the time when the parents want to take him out in their cars, and he loves riding in their 2 cars.

I thanked the couple profusely, without so much as asking for their names and where they were heading, because they're not local. But I think they know how I felt, hearing that this was a repeat performance, and I certainly know how they must have felt, seeing Habib on the road alone, obviously straying from parental care. Thank God all ended well, and thank God these kind couple found Habib and did what they did - to look for Habib's parents.

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Zara Qairina Mahathir.

 Tues 12.8.2025

One month ago, on 16.7.2025, Zara Qairina was found unconscious and injured at the bottom of multi-storied dorm of her SMKA Tun Datu Mustapha in Papar, Sabah. The next day she died at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, where she was taken to and put on life-support. Apparently the school claimed then that she had fallen from the 3rd floor of the dorm. No post-mortem was performed.

Noraidah, the mother, had seen several injuries on her daughter's body during the ritual bathing of the remains. The family sounded the need for a post-mortem. But it was only 2 weeks (30.7.2025) after her daughter's mysterious death that Noraidah made the Police report, demanding for an inquest and post-mortem. 4 days later (3.8.2025) she made another Police report, detailing the injuries she remembered seeing on her daughter's body.

On 8.8.2025 the AGC issued the order for exhumation and post-mortem. The exhumation was the next day, followed by an 8-hour post-mortem by a team of 4 forensic experts. 25 days had passed since the tragic death.

Apparently, the family has access to recordings of reports of bullying and threats of bodily harm on the girl's phone.

The big question is, why was a tragic  death from obvious physical injuries, under questionable circumstances, not fully investigated by the Police straight away in the first place ?

The next question is, why did it take that long for the surely grieving mother to go to the Police ?

I have 4 children of my own, who are grown up now, with children of their own. I know how it must have been devastating for poor Noraidah. Words won't describe it.

I pray that the authorities will now finally do what should have been done straight away on 17.7.2025. All facts must be established, compromised as they are by our own absolutely avoidable failures. I also pray that we all can learn, repent and improve from this sad and tragic episode. I know it's easy to say after the event. I know it'll not bring back Zara Qairina. I know only God Knows Noraidah's feelings and thoughts. At least I say my prayers, and show my sympathy. I must.

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Pulau Tengah, and 5 OP's Johor trip.

 Sun 3.8.2025

I drove back from Pulai Spring Resort, Senai, Johor, on Friday, together with Hank, after spending 3 days on Pulau Tengah, and the last day in JB. It was essentially a Chua Jui Leng treat for us, and it was  great. Certainly it wasn't cheap. But I don't think Chua even gave cost a thought. And there's a likelihood that Hank could make a second trip. Chua wants him to help with the mango bud-grafting thing. Hank had already suggested to me that if we make the next trip, we could take the new KTM KL-JB speed train being launched  this month.

There were five of us - Chua, our generous host, Herman, Francis and the two of us from Seremban. We go back to PD 1961. Herman and Francis flew by Batik Air from Subang, and returned the same way. Our drive from Seremban on Monday took us about two-and-a half hours, not including the pit stops senior guys like us always need. That made Herman to call several times, thinking we couldn't find our way. I'd been to Pulai Spring Golf Resort, for golf, maybe two decades ago, but "Waze" helped this time around. I don't recognize the road anymore. Actually, my second son is with Universiti Teknologi Malaysia just next door.

The first night we stayed at Pulai Spring Resort. Chua used to own it, but sold it about 25 years ago, and the new owners are obviously turning away from golf to more lucrative plans. But Chua maintains some connection and keeps some facilities here. I parked my car in his two special parking bays for the entire Johor stay. Pulau Tengah is a product of Chua's diversification after his Pulai Spring venture.

Chua gave us a taste of his "Black Thorn" durians that afternoon. I learned that he has 100 acres of durian. Wow !  On the way to Pulau Tengah the next day, he picked up some more durians. That evening 2 other OP's joined us for dinner at Pulai Spring - Dr. Shaharum Ujang and Zach, both our juniors from RMC Sg. Besi. 

Tuesday morning we drove to Mersing in Chua's Mercedes 350. It took also about two-and-a half hours, but since Chua was driving much faster, I think the distance is more than Seremban-Senai.

At the Mersing jetty, we took a boat with a huge outboard motor, capable of carrying about 20 people. The 9-nautical-mile crossing  took about 30 minutes. There was some swell,  and the boat took hard thumps repeatedly. I was worried I might get sea-sick, but it was soon over, and we reached the Pulau Tengah jetty.

Chua owns the sole resort on the island. He said some friends had asked if he owns the island, which he doesn't, of course. He has 22 chalets, or villas, evenly divided into 11 "n's" and "s's" - meaning north and south. Hank and I were assigned "10 S", which meant that we were the second last one on that line. But Chua said ours had the best ocean view, and took the other two OP's to our place to show them what he meant. 

This resort isn't cheap, and it wasn't meant to be, I suppose. On our stay it was a lot of "Mat Salleh" and one large well-dressed Malay family (meaning well-heeled, I'm sure) that we saw. For the two of us in our chalet, for 3 days and 2 nights, I estimated to Hank, the cost was for each RM 3,000 for room and RM 360 for food & drinks. The chalet itself was very comfortable and spacious, and should offer no cause for complain to the guests that come here. "10 S" could accommodate, easily, 5 adults, and looking at the bath tub size, all 5 can get in at the same time !

Chua calls his resort "Pulau Batu-Batu", but that's normal for hoteliers. But Pulau Tengah has a checkered history.  The island is 3 km wide, and the highest point is 200 feet from sea-level. It was uninhabited, but had a  wild boar population, so much so it was called, earlier, "Pulau Babi Tengah". But for 9 years, between 1970 and 1980, some 120,000 South Vietnamese refugees called the island home. It was the UN Refugee Council Transit Camp for those escaping the Communist regime that had earlier chased the Americans from South Vietnam in the Vietnam war. The story was, the refugee boats were loaded with gold bars that the obviously affluent Vietnamese took with them heading for mostly USA, and a much lesser number to Europe and Australia. The one thing that has left positive results for Chua and his resort operations must be the complete disappearance of the wild boars. The hungry refugees ate them all up. Plus whatever monkeys and iguanas that must have been there.

Chua said he nets a profit of about RM 3 million per year here. That sounds very ok, because the number of rooms is limited, while operating hotels and resorts isn't cheap.

The most interesting part of Pulau Tengah is the turtle hatchery.

From 2015, a volunteer project turtle hatchery was started. Since 2019, turtle watching  had been expanded to turtle conservation.  Specifically, 2 species are monitored here - the Green turtle, and the Hawkbill turtle. Between 2015 and 2018, 25,200 eggs were laid, and 13,800 turtles released to the sea. The student volunteer said the adult would return in 30 years time. The sad part is that out of 1,000 released, only 1 survives to adulthood. That's the scientific fact. Chua said the Sultan had suggested that the hatchery keeps them for 1 year and "get stronger" before release, but the scientist contradicts that supposition. 

We witnessed the release of about 90 turtles from the hatchery on our first night on the island. The next day we were briefed by the university student volunteer on their noble work. I think this is simply wonderful, and the State and Federal governments should pour money and expand efforts in this noble enterprise, especially when there are innumerable little islands in Malaysia that can provide physical bases.

Our last night was in JB. Chua put us up at a small but quite old hotel just about 400 m from his 25,000-sq. foot bungalow, next to a vacant lot belonging to the Sultan.  He has been here the last 25 years. That explains the close palace contact. In fact the similarly huge bungalow next to his once belonged to one of his children, but it was never occupied and had been sold at a huge profit to the current neighbour - a Singaporean, if I'm not mistaken.

We had  another durian feast in the garden beside the house. After dinner, all adjourned to the durians. Hank had the most, I think. Again it was  "Black Thorn" and "Musang King". Here Dr. Shaharum and Zach joined us again. Chua, Herman and Francis had their "Blue Label" whiskey, while the rest had "Ribena". I took all of 3 "seeds" of durian, when my doctor tells me to eat no more than 2. The Type 2 diabetes I'd been diagnosed with since 2000 compels that.

There were interesting facts I got during this enjoyable trip. Francis Teng is the owner of "Hero Supermarket" that I frequent, because it's the nearest to my house. "Giant Supermarket" was the previous one, 5 years ago, but that also belonged to Francis. He said the sale is about RM 1 m monthly, but he's losing money there. I suggested to him he could easily double the sale if his customers get better parking facilities. "Take over the 100-car parking next door, give customers who purchase more than RM 60 parking vouchers" I said. "And go to the CPO NS, plead to relax the aggressive Police enforcement at the moment", I added. But Francis knows better.

Then there was Dr. Shaharum Ujang, the retired IJN heart surgeon, now running his private practice here. He's from Terachi, KP, exactly the same kampong my father was born. Dr. Shararum also referred to Hashim Meon (Tan Sri). I told him Hashim was my neighbour in Damanasara Utama, PJ, before he moved to Shah Alam. We were in the same mosque committee in Damansara Utama. Hashim also has some family relationship with my father's side, I think, because when my first cousin in Terachi died, he came, and when her oldest brother, Dr. Md. Nor Ghani died, Hashim also came. Dr. Md. Nor (Datuk) was Dr. Ling Liong Sik's Chief Secretary.

This was a memorable outing for me. I think the others also enjoyed it. Hank is responsible for my attendance. I remember Chua very well when in "B" Coy in FMC Sg. Besi. I remember meeting him at the 4th. College, University of Malaya, the week new undergraduates reported for enrolment in 1965. I spoke to him. He was talking to another guy. When asked if he was enrolling, he said he was going overseas. When we used to meet at the OP's gatherings, both in PD and Sg. Besi , however, he said he can't remember me. It doesn't matter. Pulau Tengah, and 5 OP's Johor trip, is memorable.

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Mahathir.

Fri 11.7.2025

100 years old yesterday.

That itself is remarkable.

Looking at him, live on the media, moving about, mixing around, driving, and speaking, slower now, but still clear and clever, and remembering President Jimmy Carter who died recently at exactly 100, wheelchair-bound, not saying anything worthy, looking weak and helpless - no one can not appreciate all of this.

I came in direct contact with Mahathir on 29.11.1993, when he came to officiate MISC's brand new haulage company's yard at the North Port, Port Kelang. I was the GM. As part of the morning's ceremony, he boarded one of our also brand-new truck bearing the number plate "2021". I chose this truck. We didn't have a "2020". I pointed out the plate number to him, not saying anything. He got the message instantly. "The year after" he said, smiling to me. Of course I was referring to his then much publicized "Vision 2020". Wow, I said to myself.

All we Malaysians have to do is look at his tenure as the country's political leader and just mark out the institutions given birth to in that period, you know, Universiti Kebangsaan, Bank Islam etc. Look at the country's economy. Look at the international episodes that heaped praise for the country. Dig out the private stories, eg a foreigner who said there was this great Asian leader who's doing something brave and wonderful in the Middle East, and he was referring to Mahathir.

Not posting this blog, miniscule as it is, would be a sin for me. There's much more under all those records avaiable, both here in this country and internationally. Let somebody bring all out, good and bad, and see the man Mahathir.

The "All quiet on the Western Front" right now in the Malaysia news is a sad reflection, not on Mahathir, but on us all. 

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Amat Teleng.

 Sat 5.7.2025

Our grandmothers were sisters, Amat Teleng and I. His was "Wan Aji" the elder sister to my "Wan Che' Mbin". Their houses are 200 meters apart in Kampong Bukit Temensu. Wan Aji, while she could, would walk over to Wan Che' Mbin's house almost every morning. Those days the traffic on the Jalan Tampin road was sparse. I remember I played "galah adang" with Kayah and Dekwa on the road in the evenings. You'd be insane to do that now. Wan Aji would talk and talk, and Wan Che' Mbin would just listen. She used to show me a scar on her forehead. "Kak Aji hit me with a "gayong" when we were small" she related.

Atok Awang, Wan Aji's husband, I remember vaguely, because he died early. But I remember all the children: the late Pak chik Lai, a retired soldier who married in Peraku, along the Senaling-Senanti inner road; the late Pak Chu Kamil, who retired as a Sarawak High Court Judge; the late Pak Chik Chup, who used to live with us in Tanjung Malim until he got into a fist-fight with the late Pak Chik Haris, also with us, sharing a room at the back of the government quarters "rumah empat" we stayed in 1951 -1956; the late Mak Chik Jenap, Amat Teleng's mother, who smoked, and when she went to "Godong Ating" near the 1930 English school, TMS, for fresh packets, usually around Magrib prayers time, would scratch the wall of Wan Che' Mbin house to frighten the late Mak Tam, my auntie, staying with us there, after her divorce from her ex policeman husband because of his mental health; the late Mak Ngah Biah who settled in Air Hitam, Johor when her Forest Department husband retired, and he got a piece of land as a retirement gift from the Johor State Government for those serving the state; and the late Mak Lang, the "bidan" who spent her last years in Datuk Keramat and died there.

I spent a brief period of my youth with Amat Teleng while in Bukit Temensu. I visited Wan Aji's house often, where he stayed. I remember the note that Pak Chu Kamil pasted on the wall that said "Study Little But Often". I think it's very good advice. We played football with the other Bukit Temensu boys on the TMS padang, when we could. Amat Teleng was quite a dribbler in spite of his "teleng". This was a congenital condition, where his eyes drooped, and he had to lift up his head slightly if he wanted to look up. Surprisingly, all his children, except for the second boy, have the same congenital affliction. There must be a medical explanation. We used to tease the children about it, but they always responded seriously, taking exception to the tease.

Amat Teleng's siblings and first cousins I also knew well, except for his elder brother, Ali, the retired Civil Service officer who died last year. I've never met him, although he did make the very rare visits to Bukit Temensu. Amat's late sister and an elder brother, Shafiei, were with me as UM's undergraduates when I was there 1965-68. Then the cousins: Zahari, who retired as the Melaka State Secretary; Zaharum, who was single and died and was buried in Beting ; Sharif, who was with me in Felda, and resigned and went to do his degree in USA; and his sisters, one of them married to the late Nordin Johan, a key witness in the late Mokhtar Hashim's case. Nordin was Apandi's brother. Apandi was with me in the NS State Assembly. Apandi's ex nurse sister is Datuk Sulaiman's wife. Datuk Sulaiman is an ex Appeals Court Judge. He has been playing golf with me twice a week for the last decade. Before he took up law, he was an HA (now called Medical Assistant or something), That explains the connection to the nurse, I think.

Pak Chu Kamil, before he became a judge, was close to my father. Whenever he came back to Bukit Temensu, he would visit my father and would talk for hours. I knew my father was trying to make him an UMNO member, with an eye for the MB's job. He would have made it, too, I believe. But he never joined UMNO. He drove a Peugeot 404 bearing the number plate BT something. The late Tok Ungkai said it stood for "Bukit Temensu".  Regretfully, Sharif sent me the news only one day after his death, and I missed the funeral I would definitely have attended, just like Zaharum's and Mak Lang's.

Muharram is one of the four "special" Muslim months: Zul kaedah, Zul Hijjah, Muharram and Sya'aban. 9, 10, and 11 Muharram are special fasting dates. Friday is considered a "holy" day. 

Amat Teleng was taken  by ambulance from his Bukit Temensu house on  Thursday 3.7.2025, which was  7 Muharram, because of breathing difficulties.  He had been bedridden for the last 3 years because of a stroke. At about 8.45, which is considered a Friday night, Amat Teleng breathed his last.

Sharif whatsapped me the same night. I left the house for Bukit Temensu after my Subuh prayers on Friday 4.7.2025. The usual heavy traffic made me reach the house at almost 8 a.m. I was told the hospital had not released the remains. I took Indoyo's grandson to the mortuary, and met 2 of Amat Teleng's sons there. I confirmed with them about the "mandi jenazah" (at the Masjid Jame'), funeral prayers (after Juma'at prayers), and burial site (Kampong Petai, Batu 46), and had to take my leave. The hospital had still to attend to the body release, and I had to return to Seremban for my own Friday obligations.

May Allah Bless you, Amat Teleng.

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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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Halim Dato' Ibrahim.

 Sat 1.2.2025

The last time I met Halim must have been at least 5 years ago, at SIGC. We'd never played together, but once in a while we'd see each other with our own different partners at the club. He always played with the late Zul, Muhsin's f.i.l. Last week Ajit texted about Halim's passing.

The connection was Bukit Temensu. 

Halim was Kayah's husband. Kayah is probably my age, because we sat for our LCE the same year (1960). Wan Esah (Kayah's grandmother) saw me and asked how I did in the exams, and I said I got 3 A's, and she said Kayah also got 3 A's. I never found out what Kayah's score was, because she was in TKS, while I was in TMS.

Kayah is Tengku Rokayah Tengku Fakharuddin. She had a younger sister from the same parents - Tengku Hasnah. We know her in Bukit Temensu as "Tekwa" - short for "cantik lawa" (very pretty). Probably because she's fair, like Wan Zarah, the mother. Kayah was slightly less fair, taller, and has a different facial look than Tekwa. I guess it's the father's side.

Kayah went on to work in a bank. Halim was a senior police officer whose father was once the CPO of Kelantan. Where they met, I don't know, but in the late 70's we found ourselves in the same place - Damansara Utama. I eventually moved to Seremban, and would you believe it, so did they. Tewkwa married Cikgu Sulan's army officer son. I don't know where they are now.

Tengku Fakharuddin sadly died tragically during the "14-day" Communist rule immediately after the Japanese surrender and before the British Administration re established rule of law.

Wan Zarah remarried twice. The second one produced Man, an only son, who now lives in a smaller house built in the same compound as the grand ol' house that still stands, though in disrepair, in that vast piece of land. This marriage ended in divorce, I think. Then she married Dr. Jeremaih, the only private practice in the whole of Kuala Pilah for donkey's years. It was said that every time an epidemic occurred, like influenza or small pox, the doctor "printed money". He had a large house opposite my parents' house (built later), before building a huge mansion near Kg. Parit. Being the only private clinic in town, Wan Zarah must have frequented it, because she eventually married the good doctor. They had an only daughter who grew up to also become a doctor, and a specialist to boot. The marriage didn't last long, and the daughter never got married.

KP being KP in the 60's, there was so little traffic on the Jalan Tampin that in the late evenings Kayah and Tekwa would join us boys playing "galah adang" on the road !

That grand ol' house also has memories for me. 

Once I attended a birthday party or something, with food and music and  dancing. I remember Mak Cik Zizah declining photographer Tony from "Bee Choon" who asked her for a dance. She danced with me instead. Tony emigrated to Australia. Mak Cik Zizah died at about 90, still single. 

Another time was when I was already working in Alor Gajah, and came back to attend a wedding there. It must have been Kayah's because this was 1968. There I met Raja Alias, who my dad introduced me to. Dad said "he's from LKTP (Felda)". A few months later I joined Felda and stayed for 21 years. That was when I bought the Damansara Utama house, just like Kayah. And Halim Dato' Ibrahim. 

Small world. Long memories.

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Hank's new car.

Wed 22.1.2025.

There are two old cars in my porch right now. One is already 31 years old. The other is slightly younger - 20.  That was how I got to talk to Sam in December about finding a replacement for one or both of them. There's nothing seriously, mechanically wrong with them. They're just old.

Then I mentioned it to Hank. He wanted one, too, immediately. It looks almost certain now that Hank will get his first.

Early this month Sam said he'd found a car, in Taiping. It belongs to "his childhood friend", a retired Prison Officer. Apparently he can't drive much now because of lower limbs weakness because of his age, and a heart condition. Sam has seen the car, and remembers that it's in good repairs. But he could recheck this if I was serious about it.

We had to attend Md. Sham's funeral prayers on 13/1, Hank and I. Since we finished at the Damansara Heights mosque around 11 a.m., Hank agreed at my suggestion that we meet Sam straightaway, and discuss the car-purchase in Shah Alam, somewhere.

Sam agreed to meet us, although he had planned to do some work on one of his many cars. 

The problem was they decided to change the hotel's name to something quite different. "Waze" couldn't help, and my memory didn't also, although 15 years ago I frequented Shah Alam because Dekna was doing her 4-year law courses here. Sam had no problem getting to the renamed hotel initially suggested by me as our rendezvous. He remembers the location, unlike me. Well, there were several exchanges on the our phones, and finally we met at the roadside, at a location Sam suggested.

What was agreed was for Sam to get the car so that we could view it in Shah Alam before the arrival of Ramadan in 6 weeks.

Sam went to Taiping to bring the car to Shah Alam on Sunday, 19.1.2025. He called me Monday; I called Hank immediately, and at 12.30 we left for, again, Shah Alam. I told Sam we'll meet in Shah Alam in 2 hours time, with concern for a work-day traffic everywhere, I was right. I saw (I was driving, as usual) the Pejabat Pos Besar Shah Alam, with it's ample parking, and stopped there, and called Sam straigt away. 

PKK 8238 is a December 2009 ckd Mercedes Benz  C200 Kompressor Elegence.  It's  14 years old. The specs are noteworthy:

- The model's production line was 2007-2011.

- The 1.8-liter engine is fitted with a supercharger, a belt-driven blower that force more air into the combustion chamber. 

- It has 184 horse-power, with a 8.5 compression ratio, with an acceleration of  0-100 km/h in 8.6 seconds, and a top speed of 235 km/h ( 146 m.p.h.)

- Fuel consumption is 27 m.p.g. (city) and 49 m.p.g. (open road). The 14.5 gallon tank should take the car 700 miles.

We went all over it, inside out, Hank drove it on the highway. Everybody agreed that the car is in excellent condition, and would be a good buy. Sam even managed to get 10% off the original  price. Sam also took it to Aik's workshop for service, and Aik, a Mercedes specialist, gave it a "thumbs-up".

All agreed that this sale is a done deal. Hank agreed to full settlement in 2 weeks.

Otherwise, as I told Sam, I'll buy the car, after all the trouble taken.

Addendum 31.1.25

Yesterday Hank regretfully declined the hitherto agreed purchase for several unexpected reasons. I've now offered to take over. Let's see where this ends.

Addendum to the addendum 23.2.25

Well, after much exchanges between Sam / Hank / me, this morning I collected PKK 8238 from Sam at the Subang Jaya KTM/LRT station. I had to dig into my old savings to acquire my 5th Mercedes-Benz and my first C Class. How the hell did an 81-year-old end up with this purchase, only God Knows. Driving it back to Seremban was a satisfying experience, though.

Addendum to the addendum 13.3.2025

Hank called just now to say that last week he bought a C180 Mercedes-Benz (2011) to settle the whole issue. It's 5K more but is 2 years younger.

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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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