On January 2nd, 1962, I enrolled as a Primary One pupil at the newly built Nanga Assam Primary School in the Middle Melupa Basin, Saratok.
Nanga Assam is named after the confluence of the Assam River on the right side, going upstream. Melupa, a tributary of the Krian on the right side, lies opposite the now-abandoned longhouse called Nanga Melupa.
At the age of eight, I, along with more than forty other pioneer students, gathered at the school compound early in the morning for registration by our only teacher and headmaster, Uncle Michael Abunawas.
I was listed as the seventh student on the school roll, while my elder brother, Jon, also known as Chandi, six years my senior at 14 was number six.
Among the familiar faces was my distant female cousin, Nawah Bidi from Kedap, whose development was noticeable due to her age and proximity to Jon. I also recognised my female third cousins, Manin Kasim and Imas Kasim, from Lubok Bundong longhouse in upper Melupa, showing physical signs of maturity.
Several familiar boys included our second cousin, Tajak Radin, who was about 15 years old, and our uncle, Minggan Kalum, from Sulau longhouse in Assam, who was in his late teens.
From our Kedap longhouse, besides myself, Jon, and Nawah, were my first cousins Jerah Ampoi, aged 10, and his younger brother, Chendang, also known as Bujang Ampoi, who was 10 days my senior.
Additionally, there were two brothers, Jungan Buda, 8, and Tambun Buda, 7, along with their cousin, Dinggat Merama. Enggu Undau, 11; Indit Saban, 10; and Rajit Kussau, 11, also joined us; all were distant relatives.
From upper Melupa, a few close relatives, such as my first cousin, Aman Nyiring, around 11 years old; Ujai Dana, 9 years old; second cousins Majit Chundi, 10 years old; Idek Guang (f), 8 years old; and her younger brother, Awan Guang, 7 years old, participated.
I was acquainted with all of them since our hovel in Bukit Tinggi, about a half-hour walk from the school, was near their longhouse, Munggu Embawang, my dad’s birthplace at Upper Melupa. All these youngsters were close cousins.
After registering around forty students, Teacher Michael called for an assembly in the school’s classroom with parents in attendance. The proceedings were conducted in Iban, the common language of our area. The teacher outlined school rules and advised us to adhere to them strictly.
On the first day, all students were day scholars as there were no boarding facilities. By noon, all parents had departed, and an unexpected incident occurred. Since it was the first day, students were permitted to bathe in the Melupa River near the school. However, most students, both male and female, unexpectedly stripped naked and bathed in the river, including Nawah, Manin, and Imas.
They showed no shame while bathing naked, except for a few of us who refrained from joining. My brother Jon promptly informed Teacher Michael who then rushed to the riverside and loudly instructed all bathers to get dressed immediately. All the students complied.
“From now on, no one is allowed to bathe nude in the river. I will impose strict penalties on anyone who violates this rule, which I forgot to mention during the earlier briefing,” said Teacher Michael.
No one laughed as the teacher appeared serious and prepared to discipline any wrongdoers.
In the afternoon, Teacher Michael further lectured on bathing rules in the classroom, dividing the class into two groups: those who had previously attended other schools, especially SRK Tandok in Kerangan at the lower-middle Krian.
Jon was among them but left Tandok when there was news of a new school being established in the Melupa area.
Several students, including Gunong Empeni, Michael Darji, and Martin Ketit from Sungai Belung longhouse in Upper Melupa, who were reported to have transferred to SRB St Peter’s in Saratok town, were aged between 14 and 16. It was surprising to see teenagers entering Primary One.
The first school day in 1962 ended well when Teacher Michael appointed Jon as head boy, assisted by a cousin, Aman, while Nawah was made head girl assisted by Idek.
After classes ended at 4 pm, everyone went home and rested, anticipating the next school day.
Both Jon and I commuted from our simple residence in Bukit Tinggi to the school, a 30-minute walk through the jungle, which was a well-planned move by our dad, then 52 years old.
He had constructed a simple hovel at the site by the end of the previous year to facilitate easier transportation to the school.
The following day saw the registration of my second cousins, Sadat Ujih, 10, and his younger brother, Liap Ujih, 8. Rumours circulated that on the first day, their father, Ujih Untan, my dad’s first cousin, was still recovering from a drinking spree on New Year’s Day.
On the first weekend after the school opened, a fundraising cockfight was organized near the school compound, overseen by my dad as the ‘tuai sabung’. I spent the entire day there.
Several events took place during the first year of the school’s opening, but I vividly remember the joyous moments of the first school land sport, where three other primary schools were invited to participate: SRK Tanduk from Kerangan downriver, the neighbouring school SRK Mendas of Assam, and SRK Nanga Drau from the middle-upper Krian.
On the eve of the landsport, a concert was held at Nanga Assam Primary School featuring a sketch of Dana Bayang, the well-known Iban warrior. Brother Jon played the lead role of Dana, whose nickname was ‘Bayang’ (Shadow).
I made my stage debut with the popular song ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ and received thunderous applause from the large audience, making me a proud eight-year-old.
During the second day of the land sport, I recall a moment during the javelin throwing event for adults when my cousin-in-law, Berayun Encharang, threw the bamboo javelin well beyond the pit and into the bushes in the adjacent rubber garden. Fortunately, no one was harmed as it was an uncleared area, and people found humour in the incident.
Berayun, who was married to my first cousin Mundat Ampoi, was on leave in Saratok from his job at Lutong, Miri Shell Bhd. Though the memory remains fresh, the thrower has since passed away.
This concludes my recollection of the events in Nanga Assam in 1962, as other details from the first year are not as vivid.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the Sarawak Tribune.
