Memoirs

Stories from my father.

My father though 94, has a memory that is as clear as the sky. Today I heard more stories from him as we took a ride to Bakri to see the countryside.

Kong Kong loves to tell stories so now you know where I inherit my narrative skills from. For keeps' sake I want to hear them and remember his past. These are precious moments to me for every day is a bonus to all of us. It is also very seldom that we are in the mood to travel into the countryside and recount days of the past.

Johor is a resource rich state and oil palm and rubber trees are a common sight as you scour pass the highways and byways.

He recountered that this was the very spot that soldiers from Australia, UK and India set up army barracks to confront the Japanese in the early 40s'. Strange that the barracks are still in tact now being the abodes of local village folks. He recalled the soldiers were meek compared to the Japanese and he had witnessed them abandoning their weapons in surrender.

When he saw this torn down building he quickly told us that he knew the boss. He recalled that he had to plead with the boss to allow him to drive a lorry to pick his employer and family and also his then colleagues to this village to find shelter against the Japanese soldiers who had landed in the town. In exchange for the favour, he traded in 8 cans of petrol. Petrol was a scarce commodity then so the exchange took off.
With pride he said that he was a loyal and spirit-filled employee always ready to help out and provide protection whenever the occasion demanded of him. Smilingly, he said that 'sook kung' (granduncle) really had a soft spot for him for he could drive, cook, and was a great negotiator in business.
Sook Kung suffered badly from cancer later and it was my dad who ferried him everywhere from Malacca to Johor Bahru and even Singapore for treatment and care. He was like a son to him.



He insisted on alighting from the car and started recalling how they escaped from the Japanese, set up temporary shelter and kept away from their enemies for months before they moved back to town. Look at him. I just gazed from inside the car; refused to come down.




My father is very wise. He says he is very keen to plant these trees too. They will be a good source of income. But he admits that he has no in-depth knowledge of the trade and he may lose more instead of a win. He concludes that one must not be greedy and join in any wagon that one may think will bring in rewards. He says it is better to focus on a trade, be careful, frugal and not dabble in too many trades and agrees that one man's meat may be another man's poison. My father's business acumen; I must learn more intently. He adds that to survive well in a trade, you need to learn the tricks of the trade and stay focus. He doesn't condone switching camps.



Then he remembered his client who mans a food stall and paid her a visit. Kak Roby was delighted to see them and kept calling them 'Nyonya and Taukeh' an endearing address. In small villages, there is joy when people meet one another and they seem to be friends forever. Simple people, genuine concern. Nyonya and Taukeh however were sad to see Kak Roby's husband in pain sitting around in the stall. He has not been feeling well. After a brief exchange, friends depart and they promise to see one another in town soon.

The morning was spent ferrying Kong Kong to the suburban areas to his delight. It is always during such moments that we get to discover more of their past. Kong Kong told me this :
"I am going to take you back to China to see the village where I was born and brought up."

Yes Sir, my pleasure.