The Pioneers and Trail Blazers
Our parents’ generation saw the transition from the “old ways” to the modern era. Before their time, there were no schools.
James Ritchie, my dad is the one right in the middle of the back row. Three of my uncles are on the left, three on the right. Many of them would have made the arduous journey from Pa Mein (our village in the 1960s) to Lio Matu and Marudi (down the Telang Usan and Batang Baram to get to the largest town in the division). And also, the other direction, towards Limbang and Brunei (the alternative route out of the Kelabit Highlands to the outside world).
The subject picture was a group photo of the able-bodied men and the elders from my village in Ulung Palang, Bario. The majority of them were ‘miraculously’ present in this one picture. It was not easy to get many of them to take a group photo like this. Hence, it was an important historical record for our community. Part of the reason for me to have it posted is to have it preserved for future generations.
My first remark, which was inserted immediately below the photo on the Facebook page, was intended to inform prolific writer and keen narrator James Ritchie. James is a passionate scribe of local history and stories, accounts of which would go unrecorded and could disappear altogether from written records and memories if not for the efforts of James Ritchie or others like him. In my first remark, I also wanted to have Johnny Kapong in on the conversation, as he was also keen and interested in recording or remembering the old days, as it were. He has a good memory of those times. And he was one of my cousins. The first and opening remark went as follows:
Me: “James Ritchie, Johnny Kapong Raja, probably the only photo I have of my dad (middle, back row).”
My intention was to draw their attention to the picture and see if they could comment on it or ask questions about it. Disappointingly, James and Johnny missed my posting and failed to respond.
But unexpectedly, one of my ex-colleagues in Petronas responded to the posting, and his remark prompted an extended exchange between us, as follows:
Shariman Johan (SJ): “You have journeyed far, Datuk Medan Abdullah. It’s always good to know where we start and how far we have travelled.”
Me: “Thanks, Shahriman Johan. The journey continues, the destination the same.”
I was alluding to life as a journey, and SJ immediately caught on to the line of thought. He remarked in response as below:
SJ: “The life is in the journey, Datuk Medan Abdullah. The destination is set. May the shoes fit our journey. If not, barefoot can do!”
[SJ was being philosophical. He was also alluding to a story that I told the audience in one of the management forums at Petronas about how I used to walk to school barefoot. SJ must have been there in the audience that day, listening to me].
Me: “I used to walk barefoot to school.” [ I reaffirmed the story that SJ had alluded to]. “Actually, almost all of us then did. The better to feel the earth beneath the feet. To be grateful that we could walk God’s earth in humility, pride and honesty.” [Inferring a philosophical and mythical allusion to life’s journey, a hitching to SJ’s statements].
SJ: “Like! May the force be with you, boss!”
[Emphasing his excitement and concurrence on the figurative language we were now using in our exchanges].
Me: “Yes, we should go with the force. The spirit that pervades all things, living and non-living. That transcends infinity and beyond.
[I continued to pick up on the line of thought that SJ had started on and added more dimensions and perspectives. SJ did not continue with the contemplation of life’s journey, so that was how we ‘conversed’ on something that somehow jointly interested us.]
At this juncture, someone else interjected with a remark and joined the conversation, as follows:
Mora Lio (ML): “Very proud of all these tama’ (dads and uncles) and lun ruyung (relatives) .”
[ML is one of the cousins, getting on to the conversation].
Me: “Mora Lio, they were a special breed of a generation; they guided us through the transition into the modern world. They saw this world as it was in the past and experienced this jet age we now live in.”
[I affirmed ML’s line of thought, adding more granularity to the roles and achievements of the generation before us. They were born before World War ll and were teenagers and young men when war broke out, and many were hired, volunteered, or joined the bands of resistance fighters behind the battle lines to fight the Japanese invaders and on the side of the Allied Forces in the operations called the ‘Semut Operations’].
Lynette Smith (LS, a niece, joined in the exchange): ” I wonder who took this picture… and what was the occasion that these wonderful people got together for the photo shoot?! [With a smiley icon and asking for more details and context of the picture].
Me: “Looks like in front of the old longhouse. Could it be just after church?
[In my response, I tried to give some clues. Reference to the old longhouse was made because the longhouse in the picture was razed to the ground in a fire tragedy.]
Robin Nawan Bala (RBN, another cousin) joined in on the conversation at this stage, remarking as follows:
RBN: INFO: Taken after Sunday service and a brief discussion regarding gotong royong and the allocation of duties days before my ‘Irau Maka’a Ngadan’ in 1983 (Robin Nawan @ Balang Dita ).”
[Robin gave accurate details on the picture. He was one of them in the picture! He is seated, middle row, extreme right.]
Mora Lio: “The more I look at this photo, I can’t help but think of them semulud ngih Seruga.”
[The last part, “semulud ngih Seruga” means sharing stories among themselves in the hereafter.]
Rozilah Kamarudin [RZ, joined the conversation at this stage]:
RZ: Looking at your father’s picture, I see a man full of strength, integrity and resilience. I salute you for having such a father.”
[She focused on my father in the picture. And she was right; my father was in the height of his youth during World War II and was very strong. His role in the group of freedom fighters was to carry all the communication and wireless equipment sets on his shoulders. After the war, he and his colleagues were decorated with medals for their gallantry and contribution].
[Rozilah enlightened me on some interesting facts about what her own father did, as follows]:
RZ: “I am also proud of my late father; he went to great lengths to open new schools in deep villages. Our parents’ tenacity made us today. “
Me: “Thanks Rozilah. They were good men. Semangat berdikari dan berkerjasama sungguh kuat.”
[I reinforced and reaffirmed her statements].
Me: “Merry Christmas! The roti (biscuit) was a luxury back then. Those days, however, remain magical in my mind. Kesikenan tah ngan Sina ripun tuda ruti’ itan nah muli ngan uih. Naam tah iah kuman ngabi nuk bagi’ kadiah!”
[Since it was close to Christmas, I offered the season’s greetings. My recollection shifted to those old days. I recalled my mother would return home from the village party and would bring me some biscuits. I suspected she did not eat her full share of biscuits because she wanted to save some for me, her son. A mother’s love has no ending].
Continuing with his earlier conversation, Robin Nawan Bala added as follows:
RBN: I missed them all. When the three brothers (late Ghia, Wilson and I, together with my only son and daughter), went back to fix our ceiling before the last fire that engulfed our longhouse, the late tama invited us ‘ame kuman dale.’ He advised us to stay close to you and T. Samuel, the only family he regarded as close and caring — to his heart.”
[Robin wanted me to know how he had gone back to Bario (returning from the town) and our village to fix the ceiling of his house after the fire incident. On that occasion, my father had asked him to join him for a meal of boiled corn. In the course of the meal, my father reminded him to keep in close touch with me and my brother].
Me: “Robin Nawan Bala, thanks for the story, kanid. Tuuh tah inah (That is true). I am happy I was able to be there in the last moments when the late Ghia was in Subang Medical, just to stay with him and chitchat. He also managed to deliver his last wish to return to Miri to pass away and be buried there. I spoke to Shell MD, Mr Ian Lo, and insisted that he not only come and see Ghia while he was in the hospital but also arrange for the Shell jet to send him back to Miri (MAS wouldn’t take him due to his weak condition). All praise be to Almighty God.”
I replied to Robin that what he said about the need to remain close to one another and keep in contact was correct, and I affirmed its importance. Then I told Robin of my interaction with the late Ghia, who was his younger brother, when he was being treated at SJMC in Subang Jaya. When it looked like the treatments were not going to make any more difference, a decision was made to send my cousin Ghia, who was a Shell employee, back to his hometown in Miri.
Due to his frail conditions, it was not possible to medivac him through the commercial airline, MAS. Therefore, I decided to speak directly to the MD of Shell, Mr Ian Lo and suggested that he not only come see one of his staff members who has given so much in service to Shell but is now lying incapacitated in the hospital, but perhaps he should do something to let his staff member get his dying wish, namely, to die peacefully in his own home in Miri.
Post-note: Mr Ian Lo was a man of integrity and made of the right mettle, and true to his leadership credentials, he demonstrated care and concern for one of his staff. He did come over to visit Ghia while he was in the hospital and helped arrange to have the Shell private jet medivac Ghia back to Miri.
Note: This narrative is an attempt to write a true story along the lines of a fictional novel where conversations and dialogues are interwoven with the narrative and accounts of what was going on. Perhaps a practise round for me to learn how to write a fiction novel in the future.
