ABAH

If he was alive, today would mark his 95th birthday. Born on 27/10/1915, I was only a part of his life for 30 years – enough for me to have my own memories of Abah, and to share with my boys.

As the 10th of his 11 children with Mak, I was the first one to be born in a hospital. By sheer Will of Allah, I was born naturally dark, unlike my other siblings who mostly take after Mak and were born very fair (exception being big brother Agong and I). My siblings, from when I was a young child, would then tease me, saying I was accidentally mixed up with their real sister, and since the name tag on my wrist was misplaced, they said Mak had to wait for the last child to be picked up, and so presume I was Mak’s baby. Although it used to hurt me when I was a child, but Abah would come to my rescue. You see, I inherited Abah’s wide jaw, and as such my teeth were like Abah’s – widely spaced apart. So every time someone makes a claim that I am adopted, Abah would say, “Nope, you are my daughter...see we share the same teeth”. Thank you Abah! (alas, even if indeed I was adopted, Alhamdulillah, for I get the best parents and the best family anyone could hope for...and even more..I am a Muslim – but naaah...I am not adopted!!!)

Abah was a teacher, a strict one too. His voice was loud, even though he was not that tall. He did have a temper of course (runs in almost all his children), but as far as I can recall, I hardly got any ticking off by him. Even though my elder sisters and brothers would recount memories of “Abah yang garang”, I think he mellowed somewhat with his younger children, for the only time he was not pleased with me, a knuckle on the head was all I got from him. I don’t know how he was as a teacher (perhaps I should ask Othman Marsup, my ex school mate who was his student), but I remember times when I was in Std 3, and Abah was in his final year of teaching, I would help him mark his students’ Maths papers. I remember also, when Abah got home on his bicycle from school, another sibling and I would be eager to take off his socks only for the reward of drinking the hot drink in his thermos flask which he brought to school every morning, and brought back home untouched. (I wonder now if he purposely did it, knowing how we enjoyed drinking from his thermos flask then...).

The day would always start early with Abah – the early morning march hymns on the radio announcing that he was up and about (until today, the tune comes very easily to mind...invigorating tunes that would wake you up). Otherwise, it would be the Arab songs. (or were they actually qasidah?...must check with brother Apek ). Then off he would cycle to school way in Bukit Kuda Klang until he returned in the afternoon, which by that time I would have walked home from MGS too. After lunch, it would be a must for him to lie down on the sofa and read the newspaper.

Abah was a sportsman, in my younger days I would often see him sport the football referee uniform for a football match. He was a renowned referee, from the trophies he brought home. But that is as far as I know of his refereeing days; my brothers would know more on that.

Abah retired when I was in Std 3. That year he said that if I got first position in class he would buy me whatever I wanted as a prize. During that time, I was always borrowing arwah Nordin’s mini bike; whenever he came to play football with big brother Apek, 3 years my senior. So naturally, that was what I asked for..and that year, was the first time I got 1st position in class ... and got my mini bike – state of the art bike at that time, with gears to change speed. (I guess giving external positive reinforcements to young children works; until they are big enough to appreciate the more effective internal reinforcements). When Abah retired, he finally got himself a car, a white beetle fiat, where the door open backwards. By that time, we had moved out to Pandamaran, and I was still in MGS, in Std 5, whilst big brother Agong was in ACS Secondary, just next door to MGS. Abah would send us both to school and fetched us in the afternoon. And on Fridays, they would both go off to Masjid Sultan Sulaiman for the solat Jumaat, whilst I would wait in the car. Those were the most productive days of my life I think. I recall, it was whilst waiting for them to finish praying, that I developed this habit of saying my thoughts out loud – daydreaming aloud is more like it.

Abah was a literary man as far as I could remember. He had so many things to talk about, and I must say his conversations were often captivating. Up until his old age, people liked to come and visit him just to hear him talk on all matters. And so I remember, when I was only 9 or 10, for my birthday he bought me the book, Hikayat Hang Tuah as a birthday gift. No ...it wasn’t a story book; it was a literary discourse on the legend Hang Tuah, a book used by form 6 students! I loved the book! (Thats why I remember it till today). When Abah bought this house to settle here in Andalas (where most of us are now), the housing area was called Ladang Tremelbye. As the first UMNO leader in this housing area, he renamed it Taman Sri Andalas, after a Malay classic legend I believe; and the name stays till today. (with road names as Sri Sarawak, Sri Damak, Sri Mersing, Sri Siantan, Sri Sedeli). Although he was active politically in UMNO, he was a fair man. As I grew up, and when I returned from my studies, I never got round to seeing eye to eye with him on this matter. I remember clearly (and I hold to this day), Abah telling me, “It does not matter if you are not in this team. Choose that which you believe in, but I want you to be aware of and seriously fight for whatever you choose for this country”. Since then, once, when he lost in the local votes for head of our housing area, I felt sorry for him, for I knew he was a true man fighting for what he believed in. (Thank God he didn’t live to see the chaos his party is in now).

On the same note, I remember when I was in Std 6, I was the recipient of 4 awards on the school Prize Giving Day. Abah had decided to come, and since the District Officer knew him, the latter honoured him to sit beside him. I came up on stage 4 times to receive my award; dressed in my “samseng attire” for a role I was to play later in the school play. That in itself attracted the audience attention, with my false moustache, rolled sleeved shirt and pants rolled up on one side to my knees. Each time I came down the stage, I could see Abah smiling and grinning away. Later he told me that the person sitting next to him had asked, “Whose daughter is that, to receive the most award?” and Abah told me, “Abah pun jawblah...anak sayalah!”. The pride when he said that, the smile, the gleam in his eyes...was what became the burning flame in my heart and soul, to always make Abah proud of me. And today, now that I am a parent myself, I know exactly what he felt when my boys go upstage to receive their best student awards, when the very same thing happened to me, and someone asked if they were my boys. I am glad, if there is no service at all I have done for Abah, I have surely made him proud at that moment. Feeling nostalgic now....

My only regret was that years later, when I was diagnosed as having kidney failure, I had called Abah from England to tell him that. Little did I know that not long after that, he slowly lost use of his legs and finally had to end in crutches and later in a wheelchair. Throughout my kidney problem days, he was a staunch supporter. When the doctors told me I could only drink half a cup of water per day, it was he who suggested that the syrup drink be made into ice cubes so that I can sip on them throughout the day, much to my delight. When my donor sister Oni and I were due for our renal transplant surgery, Abah made a “doa selamat” makan2 for us with all the family members. After the transplant, when he came to visit me in the ICU, he could only watch me from outside the glass pane, tears steraming down his cheeks whilst he desperately tried to master a cheerful laugh. For a stern and loud man, he had a very sensitive soul and would cry at his children’s hardships. Every 1st aidil fitri morning was an ordeal for us to get through when we would all line up to seek forgiveness from him and Mak...and then he would break out in tears, and we would all be hard pressed to hold back our own tears.

Abah passed away on 27th November 1991, just 13 days after my 30th birthday. On that last birthday, I was busy moving back to Klang from PJ. A lot of money was needed in shifting house, and on that last birthday with him, Abah gave me RM10 as a birthday present. He said, “ you will need it when you need it”. Then Abah asked my age, and I told him. He stared at me before he said, “Abah asyik panggil kau Adik, ruponyo kau dah gaik yo!” and we laughed.

Mak used to lament my not having any children after my kidney transplant and wished outloud that it would be nice even if I had only one child. Abah used to chide her and told her to say this instead, “Sorang DULU pun jadilah...” Once Abah told me, out of the blues, that I would have a child when he is gone.

My son, Ahmad Ashraf Ilman was born on 28th August, 1992, exactly 9 months after Abah’s demise. Coincidence? I never believe in coincidence...everything happens for a reason, for a purpose, by His Will in which only He knows the wisdom of. No, to me personally, it was no coincidence my son was born exactly 9 months after Abah passed away – it was his doa come true...for this daughter of his.

We all love you Abah...myself, Zul, Ashraf and yes, his little brother Zakiy too. May your soul be blessed and may you be placed amongst the pious and close to HIM. We pray we have not disappointed you and we pray you are pleased to have us as your children. We know you loved us Abah!

Al Fatihah buat Abah: HJ Abd Manaf bin Haji Hussain (Cikgu Manaf)

27/10/1915 -27/11/1991

abah n mak.