My Parents

Abah was Pak Tua's best friend. So he called Mak, Adik. When Mak was 13, Abah 19, their parents decided they sd tie the nuptial knot. One day Abah came back from work on his bicycle. His house was busy with relatives preparing for a feast. 'What's going on?' Abah asked. 'Someone's getting married...' was the reply.

Well, it was common those days a relative would hold the reception at a bigger house. Abah was cool until they asked him to get ready for the akad nikah. Still thinking that he might be the best man, Abah did.

But surprise! He was 2b the groom. B4 anyone could react Abah had jumped off the house, pulling his bicycle to save dear life. But Pak Tua was prepared for this. His friends were ever ready. When they told him who his bride would be Abah was relieved.

At 14 Mak gave birth to Abang. Two years later the the Japanese invaded Malaya. It began just after midnight on 8 December 1941. Kakak, the second child was still in the cradle. Panic broke loose.

Abah later attended Japanese school. One of the songs Abah taught me later was, 'Row nek iro nek asa good mornin.' Don't ask me what it meant. I even wondered if the pronunciation is correct.

Mak used to tell me how the Japanese soldiers would just take what they want. One day they came by and were about to break the sugarcanes, one of them was stretching and jumping trying to pluck a ripening papaya. Mak stood at the window and shouted, 'Those belongs to my children. If you touch them I'll report to your officers.' They left and were never seen around again. My salute to mum.

What I remembered about Abah in my earlier years was pillion riding on his bicycle. Four of us (Abah, my two brothers and I) would ride to the barbers for a hair cut. Yes, I'm a girl, but Abah did not treat us differently. Abah seldom take us to eat out. He would bring back fruits, sometimes hot roti canai and dhal curry to share with the rest of the family. My respect to Abah. My love to them.