tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65448312183728907962024-03-27T14:37:20.060+08:00The Early Malay DoctorsFaridahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11943998781435870417noreply@blogger.comBlogger1210125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-33545965428230523962024-02-14T11:21:00.004+08:002024-02-14T11:21:52.868+08:00Much More Than A Colorful Collection Of Malay Recipes<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Much More Than A Colorful Collection Of Malay Recipes</span></b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Khir Johari: <i>The Food Of Singapore Malays: Gastronomic Travels Through The Archipelago</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Marshall Cavendish, Singapore, December 1, 2021. Illustrated, hardcover.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">ISBN 9789814841924; 624pp; US $80.00<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Foreword by Anton Mosimann<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">What made CNN’s series “Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown” popular and its late host endearing was that he went beyond describing the various exotic tantalizing recipes of the world to telling the unique enchanting stories of the people behind them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> Likewise, Khir Johari’s <i>The Food Of Singapore Malays: Gastronomic Travels Through The Archipelago</i> goes far beyond being simply a rich and colorful compendium of Malay recipes. No surprise that it is now in its third printing after its first in December 2021 and had won many prizes, locally as well as internationally. I was fortunate to get one of the last copies. On a recent California book tour, Khir was pleased to see his book displayed in local Target stores.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> At 624 pages with generous high-resolution images on top-quality paper, and weighing nearly eight pounds, this is more an illustrated encyclopedia of Malay culture focusing on the culinary arts. The volume has four sections (“People, Space and Place,” “Indigenous Ingenuity,” “Food As Civilization,” and “Food and the Politics of Identity”), each comprising three to six chapters. Within each chapter are short inserts, with distinct fonts and color page margins, dealing with specific mini topics and loaded with well-researched materials. For example, Chapter I “Setting Sail,” has three –“Malaya Irredenta, Malays, Malayans and Malaysians,” “Melayu” with a quote from Usman Awang’s immortal poem of the same title, and ending with the first recipe, “Asam Pedas.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> As per the foreword, “Khir’s book provides us a deeper understanding of Malays themselves. . . . [O]f how an ingenious people have been able to tap into the advantages of their location between mountain and sea, and their maritime connections, to create a cuisine that is typical of who they are as a people – warm and engaging, willing to experiment and eager to please.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> As for the greater Malay world Nusantara, or Maritime Southeast Asia, this is how Khir Johari describes it in his first chapter:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> “Like clouds drifting in a serene sky, a vast constellation of isles and peninsulas – the Malay Archipelago – unravels in majesty from the Indian Ocean to the South China Sea. The island of Sumatra reclines in esteemed repose. The Malay Peninsula meanders like a vine. Arching gently like a string of pearls lie Java and the Lesser Sunda Islands.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> No surprise to the elegant prose. The writer has a graduate degree from Stanford and had taught for some years at a Silicon Valley public school before returning to Singapore.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> Khir’s culinary interest began early, having been brought up in a traditional multigenerational Malay family in Kampung Gelam, Singapore, and seeing his mother, grandmother, and assorted aunties concocting tantalizing aromatic dishes in their communal kitchen. Kampung Gelam, in Khir’s words, “was once the capital of Malay intellectual, political and religious life in Singapore.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> Later as an advisor to his California school’s culinary club, his interest was reignited when one of his students whose family had come from India had an Eureka moment: “I have found myself in front of a tandoori oven!” As an aside, it reflects the richness of the curricular offerings of California’s public schools that they have culinary clubs!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> While there are many books on Malay history and society, “that on Malay food was under-researched and under-recognized . . . . In order to preserve what we have, we need to document. Sometimes in order to document, we need to first reconstruct.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> And document and reconstruct Khir did, with meticulous research into areas hitherto unexplored, leading him to conclude, “Our island [Singapore] is not only a recipient of the creations from all the reaches of the Archipelago . . .[but also] a creative kitchen hub, spewing forth its own interpretations of what it means to be delicious, and through that, what it means to be a Malay.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> If I were to liken this volume to a publication in my specialty, it would be a super surgical atlas where the author has gone beyond the myriad technical minutiae of detailed drawings and real life illustrations of organs in living colors to adding the history and biology as well as historical vignettes and towering personalities associated, thus bringing out the human dimension to those miraculous operations.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> Seeing pictures of those ladies in their <i>baju kurong</i> stirring their <i>kualis</i> brought back my own precious memories of my mother and grandmother back in my Minang Sri Menanti kampung. Thank God Malay women then were not Bedouin wannabees. Hijabs and burkas are serious fire hazards in the kitchen!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> This book blazes new, vibrant, and exciting fields. As such, like all good research, it prompts more questions. Khir Johari pines in us for the taste of related cuisines, as with the Philippines’ Mindanao, Southern Thailand, and coastal Indochina’s Chaim community, as well as of Hindu Bali, Protestant Batak, and Catholic Ibans. Beyond are the Malay diasporas on Christmas Islands and Sri Lanka; further west, Madagascar and South Africa; and in the New World, Surinam and the West Indies. Then there is the converse; the influence of Malay cuisines on local Peranakan Chinese and Indian dishes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> The biologist in me is also curious on whether the spread of cuisines across Nusantara would also have its own equivalent cultural so-called Wallace Line, the invisible barrier between Bali and Borneo to the west with Lombok and Celebes to the east that accounts for the distinctly different flora and fauna on either side.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> The vibrant vignettes of history, perceptive sociological observations, and captivating human dramas interspersed in this rich volume makes it an invaluable addition to any library, quite apart from increasing the repertoire of creative and adventurous chefs. For Malay kitchens and others interested in Malay cuisines, this is an essential addition.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-74315257621440835272024-02-12T10:25:00.003+08:002024-02-12T10:25:38.759+08:00Cast From the Herd Excerpt #116 Alberta, Here I Come!<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt #</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">116: Alberta, Here I Come!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">I arrived at Edmonton’s Nisku International Airport on a cool autumn evening, the sun still glowing bright orange in the low western horizon, the residuum of the midnight sun. The outside solitary flag post cast a long shadow onto the pavement. As I emerged from the arrival lounge, a familiar-looking young man extended his hand. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “You must be Bakri!” he said with a ready smile. The mention of my name in a strange city and in a foreign country, properly pronounced too, warmed my heart. “I am Ben Azman; we are your welcoming committee,” as he introduced another Malaysian. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> They took my bags and off we went to his car. “I <i>oso</i> from Malaysia, <i>lah</i>!” the other student finally blurted as he introduced himself. Unlike Ben, he was more Malaysian, meaning, he was rather taciturn. Also unlike Ben whose diction was clear and slow, this other fellow’s words just rushed by in a torrent, made worse by his singsong Malaysian accent, as with emphasizing the last syllable in Malay-<i>see ah </i>as well as <i>oso</i> and ending with the all-encompassing <i>lah</i>. As I was still fresh from my native land I could comprehend him. However, after having listened only to Canadians for the past few days, I found his words just swishing by. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “It’s hard to call ourselves Malaysians,” Ben said as we drove off. “We’re so used to being Malayans.” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I told him that I was still Malayan as per my passport; I left on the eve of the formation of Malaysia. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “This is Alberta,” as Ben waved his right hand across the clear windscreen of his Ford sedan, “wild rose country.” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The scene looked familiar, thanks to the many colorful brochures sent to me earlier by the university. I looked around; vast open sky and endless flatland. The soft evening sun gave a subdued beauty to the landscape. It was right out of a Zane Grey novel except for the smooth car ride on the undulating well-paved freeway. That prompted me to ask, “Are there many wild buffalo here?” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “Nope, not on these plains! The wild buffalo here are all fenced in. We’ll take you to Elk Island National Park this weekend,” Ben suggested. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> You could never fence in the wild buffalo back home, I thought to myself. The <i>seladang </i>there is feared; its mere mention would make villagers tremble with fear. Here in Canada, wild buffalo are fenced in and turned into tourist attractions!</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The supreme irony! Here I was in praise of the solitary <i>seladang</i>, cast from its herd and free to roam far and wide. I modeled myself after it. I had flown across the vast Pacific, the towering Rockies, and the rolling prairies only to discover that my idolized wild buffalo but of the Canadian variety had been fenced in. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Oh Allah! Bless and guide me in my new life’s journey. Let me be like the <i>seladang</i> of my native land, respected if not feared, and free to roam God’s vast earth, guided only by my deep abiding faith and rich resilient tradition but tethered to neither. Oh Allah! Spare me the fate of my grandfather’s buffalo, well fed and lovingly cared for but alas even the village idiot could lead and control it by holding on to the rope attached to the ring through its nose.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Next: Excerpt #117: An Unexpected Identity Crisis<o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-37599920735280267502024-02-08T15:25:00.021+08:002024-02-09T08:37:44.022+08:00Prof Nor Akmal bin Wahab<p> OBITUARY - PROF NOR AKMAL WAHAB, 1955-2023</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW16BQyTCpTnC9hnBGmZPVRbdXoWmQOEqbkzB2pwf8MQ4TozpXwKLYhChFMFuZ5yjve7VTNHXxD1z6EYkM_QEZOkCWwmSNQGbkxBBcz7idnQ_KMEVJf3JSkpHUUnWMVT4jTvQkrjZfdRHoSVWfVwylN-SbxgaJ4Jcdp0lOSjMLV_jv3zy9mO5EAtKrDj8/s1036/NAW%2014%20-%20Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="978" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW16BQyTCpTnC9hnBGmZPVRbdXoWmQOEqbkzB2pwf8MQ4TozpXwKLYhChFMFuZ5yjve7VTNHXxD1z6EYkM_QEZOkCWwmSNQGbkxBBcz7idnQ_KMEVJf3JSkpHUUnWMVT4jTvQkrjZfdRHoSVWfVwylN-SbxgaJ4Jcdp0lOSjMLV_jv3zy9mO5EAtKrDj8/s320/NAW%2014%20-%20Copy.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nor Akmal Wahab</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Biodata</b><br /><p></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Name: Nor Akmal bin Wahab</li><li>Occupation: University lecturer, professor of Medical Biochemistry/Chemical Pathology</li><li>Field of Specialisation: Chemical Pathology, Clinical Biochemistry</li><li>Born: 12 March 1955 Gombak, Selangor</li><li>Deceased: 19 November 2023 (aged 68)</li><li>Cause of death: He was diabetic and passed away of diabetic complications in the ICU.</li><li>Burial: Perkuburan Meru, Shah Alam, Selangor</li></ul><p></p><p><b>High school</b></p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Sultan Ismail College (Maktab Sultan Ismail), Telipot, Kota Bharu, Kelantan, Malaysia 1971-1973, MCE 1973</li></ol><div><b>Tertiary education</b></div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Bournemouth College of Technology, University of London, 1974-1976 GCE A-Levels</li><li>University of Bradford, UK, B. Tech. (Honours) Medical Science (Chem Path) 1976-1980</li><li>Chelsea College, University of London, UK, MSc (Biochemistry) 1981-1982</li></ol><p></p><p><b>Academic qualifications</b></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>MCE (Malaysian Certificate of Education) 1973</li><li>GCE A-Levels 1976</li><li>B. Tech (Honours) Medical Science (Chemical Pathology) 1980 </li><li>MSc (Biochemistry) 1982</li></ul><p></p><p><b>Workplaces</b></p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>USM (Universiti Sains Malaysia) in Penang 1982-1990, USM Kubang Kerian in Kelantan 1990-2011 (total 29 years)</li><li>KUIN (Kolej Universiti Insaniah/Insaniah University College) in Alor Setar, Kedah, Malaysia.</li><li>Allianze University College of Medical Sciences (AUCMS) Medical School in Bertam, Kepala Batas, Penang, Malaysia</li><li>MAHSA University in Bandar Saujana Putra, Selangor, Malaysia</li></ol><p></p><p><b>Experience</b></p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>University lecturer</li><li>Clinical researcher</li><li>Medical textbook translator (Zilva and Pannall, 1982/83)</li><li>Medical curriculum planner</li><li>Medical curriculum quality assurance program</li><li>Medical Laboratory Technology lecturer</li><li>Medical Laboratory Technology manager</li><li>Medical Laboratory Technology preceptorship program</li><li>Medical Laboratory Technology training</li><li>Medical Education curriculum planner</li><li>Medical Education training</li><li>Undergraduate supervision</li><li>Postgraduate supervision</li><li>Business administration</li></ol><div><br /></div><div>Retired from USM: March 2011</div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab was a retired medical lecturer who made significant contributions in the field of Chemical Pathology. Below are some key points about him.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Academic Achievements at KUIN</b></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab held the position of Professor of Chemical Pathology at Kolej Universiti Insaniah KUIN) in Alor Setar, Kedah, Malaysia.</li><li>He had been involved in medical education, including supervising postgraduate students (MSc and PhD), and contributing to the medical curriculum and its review.</li><li>He played a crucial role in establishing a private medical school (KUIN) in Kedah in November 2011, which received approval from the Malaysian Medical Council and the Malaysian Ministry of Education.</li><li>The medical program at Kolej Universiti Insaniah (KUIN) began in June 2012 with its first batch of medical students.</li><li>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab also oversaw the Chemical Pathology Laboratory reports and ran the Pathology laboratories at KUIN.</li></ul></div><div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Lectureship at AUCMS and MAHSA</b></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab also contributed to the Allianze University College of Medical Sciences (AUCMS) Medical School in Bertam, Kepala Batas, Penang.</li><li>He continued to give lectures at the AUCMS Medical School and at MAHSA University.</li><li>His role involved lecturing, supervising postgraduate students (MSc and PhD), and contributing to the medical curriculum.</li></ul></div><div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Entrepreneurial Ventures</b></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>After retiring from academia, Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab set up six companies involved in various domains, including food production, aluminium composites, bakery cum restaurant, import-export, automobile workshops, and logistics.</li><li>His enterprises aim to benefit the Muslim Ummah and create positive impact.</li><li>After retiring from academia, Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab embarked on an entrepreneurial journey.</li><li>He has set up six companies since his retirement in March 2011.</li><li>His ventures spanned various domains, including food production, automobile workshops, import-export, and more.</li><li>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab is committed to using his enterprise to benefit the Muslim Ummah.</li></ul></div></div></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>Details of Business Ventures</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab had been quite active in the business world, setting up several companies after his retirement from academia. Here are some details about his ventures:</div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Food Production: Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab is involved in food production. While specific details about the type of food or products are not available, it is likely related to the food industry.</li><li>Do-It-Yourself (DIY) Aluminium Composites: His enterprise includes working with aluminium composites. These materials are commonly used in construction, signage, and other applications. Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab's involvement in this field suggests an interest in innovative materials.</li><li>Bakery cum Restaurant: Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab had ventured into the food service industry by establishing a bakery cum restaurant. This combination allowed him to offer freshly baked goods alongside a dining experience.</li><li>Import-Export: His company engaged in import-export activities. This could involve trading goods internationally, facilitating cross-border transactions, or sourcing products from various countries.</li><li>Automobile Workshop: Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab's enterprise included an automobile workshop. This suggests an interest in automotive maintenance, repairs, or related services.</li><li>Logistics: Logistics companies handle the movement of goods, transportation, and supply chain management. Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab's involvement in logistics indicates a focus on efficient distribution and delivery.</li></ol></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Community Involvement and </b><b>Mission to Benefit the Muslim Ummah</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">His mission was to stay active, useful to others, and engage in deeds that pleased Allah SWT.</div><div><br /></div><div>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab's overarching goal is to contribute to the well-being of the Muslim Ummah. His enterprises likely align with this mission, aiming to create positive impact and benefit the community.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Summary</b></div><div><br /></div><div>In summary, Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab was a dedicated academician, entrepreneur, and advocate for positive impact within the medical and business realms. Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab's educational journey spanned human resource development and chemical pathology. His commitment to education, entrepreneurship, and community welfare is commendable. Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab's diverse business ventures spanned food production, aluminium composites, dining establishments, import-export, automotive services, and logistics. His commitment to benefiting the Muslim community underscores his entrepreneurial endeavours.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Family</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Widow: Hajah Fauziah bt Abdul Karim</div><div>Children: 9, many are working professionals</div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Azzam - Engineer with Shell International. Married Nor Khalilah.</li><li>Nadwah - Manager with Petronas. Married Mohd Najib.</li><li>Nadirah - IT teacher at secondary school. Married Azrul.</li><li>Khairina - Executive with Puncak Niaga. Married Luqman Hakim.</li><li>Mohammad - Consultant Civil Engineer, offshore O&G. Married Munirah.</li><li>Nabillah - Quantity Surveyor</li><li>Munirah - Chemical Engineer</li><li>Ismail - Studying Petroleum Engineering</li><li>Adlina - Studying</li></ol></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Hajj</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Both Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab and wife have performed the Hajj in 2018.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Siblings</b></div><div><br /></div><div><div>Prof. Nor Akmal Wahab was the eldest of four siblings: Nor Akmal, Shadida, Sabri, and Hairani.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>--</div><div>I will update as information trickles in. - Prof Faridah, 8 Feb. 2024.</div>Faridahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11943998781435870417noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-66272504988849025252023-10-25T10:20:00.003+08:002023-10-25T10:20:42.692+08:00Anies Baswedan's Impressive Debut<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Anies Baswedan’s Impressive Debut</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">October 24, 2023</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Indonesia’s Presidential hopeful Anies Rasyid Baswedan’s speech on October 11, 2023 at the International Islamic University Malaysia (IIUM) was impressive. He epitomizes President Jokowi’s finest legacy of bringing many outstanding young talents into his administration. In the final analysis that is a leader’s greatest and most enduring legacy, not his long tenure or grandiose monuments.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Judging from his speech as well as past performances, Baswedan’s election would assure and indeed accelerate Indonesia’s current already impressive trajectory. That would be good not only for that country but also Malaysia and the region.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Thanks to modern technology I could participate in real time (at least virtually) in that as well as other presentations all over the world. In Malaysia, one series that attracts me is the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilization’s World Professorial Lecture (ISTAC/WPL). My praise however, is not unalloyed. Of over two dozen lectures thus far I could recall archiving only a few.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>One was the July 3, 2022 talk by Aria Nakissa. A Penn graduate, he obtained his Masters in Islamic Studies at IIUM and then went on to get his JD and PhD at Harvard. He presented his novel research on Islamic Studies utilizing cognitive science, “big data,” and non-traditional sources. The only other distinguished IIUM graduate who had entered my intellectual world was the late Singapore-born Pakistani Shahab Ahmad. A Princeton PhD and a Harvard faculty, he wrote the monumental<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>What is Islam? The Importance of Being Islamic</i>.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>A few observations on Malaysian presentations. First, the long distracting introductions that are not respectful of listeners’ intelligence and precious time. Then there are the irritating technical snafus. Could the organizers not have their staff do a dry run and show the guests how the various gadgets work beforehand?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Fluffs as well as long preambles drown your central message, or worse. To wit, instead of saying, “Ladies and Gentlemen, food is now served,” just seven crisp direct words, a Malaysian host starts by apologizing for the “humble” offerings while profusely thanking the guests for “honoring” the occasion and the chefs for their culinary extravaganza. Then the prolonged effusive salutations and equally-dragged out obligatory supplications. Meanwhile the food gets cold.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Baswedan’s lecture was the rare and refreshing exception. His few slides had a high data/byte ratio and were free from “chartjunk.” Uncluttered and thus informative! He must have read Edward Tufte’s<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>The Visual Display of Quantitative Information</i>.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The program, “The Malay World Civilization’s Future And Its Contribution To Global Discourse On Sustainable Development” lasted over 130 minutes! Baswedan however did not begin to speak till 50 minutes into the program, what with the many long introductory remarks. One speaker gushed with admiration and later broke into tears in his praise for the man. Precious time wasted. People came to hear the speaker, not the host, emcee, introducer, or assorted hangers-on.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Those other speakers added nothing. Not one speaker alluded as to why this man is creating such a buzz with his running for the presidency of Indonesia. Had Baswedan not mentioned that as Governor of Jakarta he successfully tackled that city’s notorious congested streets by improving its public transportation system, I too would not know of his remarkable accomplishment. He mentioned that not to show off, rather as an example of problem solving using our traditional<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>mesyuarah</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>(negotiations) and<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>gotong royong</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>(working together) approaches.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Reflecting the rigor of his American PhD training, Baswedan spent only 27 minutes for his formal presentation, leaving plenty of time for comments. I highlight this because Malays are easily mesmerized by long speeches that deliver nothing but bombastic words. The local social media was abuzz recently over a nonagenarian scholar who spoke for over two hours, and nobody could remember what he said.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>A refreshing feature, because it is so rarely seen these days,) of Baswedan’s presentation was that he could compose his sentences in complete Malay (or Indonesia) without resorting to the irritating jumbling or<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>rojak<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></i>speech of Malay and English, even in mid-sentence.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The students’ questions were probing and insightful. One asked whether Baswedan’s Malay World was based on geography, culture and language, or genetics. He confessed his ignorance of genetics. Another, from a business major not surprisingly, asked about the possible impact of the proposed Kra Canal.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Baswedan’s simple response was, “Change is inevitable. As such we must be prepared for it.” He did not elaborate on how, but I could after listening to him. Emulate him! Get the best education, learn English (today’s universal language), and continue seeking knowledge. Then leverage our time-honored cultural traditions of<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>mesyuarah</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>gotong royong</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>to solve problems and get things done.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>A senior faculty member hogged the Q&A session to boast of his papers on Biswedan’s illustrious grandfather. Had the moderator not prompted Biswedan, he would not have commented.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Biswedan’s topic interests me as I have just completed the draft of my next book,<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Malay Civilizational Encounters: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>From Pre-Islam Through Colonization And The Digital Age</i>. I congratulate ISTAC/WPL for inviting him. Prime Minister Anwar would do well to have Biswedan address the Malaysian cabinet. If he could solve Jakarta’s horrific traffic mess, shaping up Anwar’s cabinet would be a walk in the park, or on today’s Jakarta streets. While he is at it, Anwar would also do well to ponder grooming his own Anies Biswedan. The greatest legacy for a leader is for him to endow the nation with an ever greater successor.</p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-21022752807431443732023-10-23T10:19:00.005+08:002023-10-23T10:19:45.838+08:00Cast From the Herd Excerpt #100: Back For The School's Third Term<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 100: Back for the School’s Third Term</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">My former Malay College classmates Yusof Sidek, Wan Mahmud, and Ramli Ujang were in the inaugural class of the new medical faculty at the University of Malaya, Kuala Lumpur, which started that May 1963. One weekend Ramli visited me in my village to share his campus experience. He confirmed the stereotype I had of local lecturers. They were aloof; you dared not ask questions lest they would throw the book at you, Ramli related. As for his biochemistry class, his lecturer had not yet returned from his doctoral studies in London. For anatomy, another feared subject in medical school, Ramli said that they were given a cadaver per group of seven students and a dissection manual, and then left on their own. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> That did not faze me; I had been doing that for biology at Malay College. Back at TMS during my last year there, I studied the entire last half of my class syllabus on my own. Nothing new or scary there! Being the pioneer class, Ramli’s batch received considerable national attention, and I envied him. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Meanwhile at my Sekolah Idris the second term was fast coming to a close for the short August holidays. One day my headmaster asked me if I would be back for the third term. Seeing that I would not leave for Canada until mid-September, I replied that I would. He was relieved. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> We went over the syllabi. He was pleased that I was ahead in both classes. He confided that he was desperate to find my replacement and thus far had no luck. He pleaded with me to stay as long as possible. I was more than happy to oblige. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> No science teachers, inadequate textbooks, and no biochemistry lecturer, at both high school and university levels. Why couldn’t the authorities plan better? Then they blame the students for not performing well!</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> As for my poor students, their next few years, in fact their whole future, remained cloudy. The kindest view would be to regard them as pioneers blazing a new trail. In my heart however, I knew that they were but sacrificial lambs for a dubious cause. During those last few weeks I could barely look them in the eye. Those young innocent faces, so full of hope, were destined for great disappointments. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I wondered whether those leaders knew the impact of their policies. They were aware of the lack of teachers, books, and curricula; so why did they push hard the new untried system? Why not start small, test the model, correct the deficiencies, and once established, only then sell the idea? Those leaders must have had supreme confidence in their policies and their ability to execute them. Either that or they considered those young Malay minds expendable, cannon fodder for the nation’s battle for the supremacy of Malay language. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> If that were so, then those innocent young souls should have been so told. At least then they could savor some sense of sacrifice. They and their parents would then not have their hopes soar so high. In their arrogance, those leaders zealously exhorted others to do their bidding, and those young promising minds bore the burden of their policies’ idiocies. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> My second term holiday was consumed with preparing for my big trip to Canada. When the third term resumed, my students were surprised to see me back; they thought I would have been long gone. It was tough seeing them during those last few weeks. I felt a heavy burden. I realized that they would be stuck with one substitute teacher after another when I am gone. I consoled myself that they too could be blessed with a wonderful substitute teacher like Mr. Noh earlier who inspired me with Chairil Anwar’s poetry. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I tried to rush the syllabus, but the more I did the more resistance I encountered. Even normally diligent students balked, and I faced more disciplinary problems. One day my cousin and fellow teacher Baharuddin approached me. I was unsure what he was driving at, but he finally blurted out that there had been an ugly rumor that my scholarship had been withdrawn and that was why I was back for the third term. I assured him otherwise. Nonetheless he suggested that I should begin talking about my immediate future, of Canada, of becoming a doctor, in short anything to reassure my pupils that their teacher was not a flunky. No student wants a loser to be his teacher; hence their now less-than-respectful attitude towards me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Next: Excerpt #101: Threatening Clouds <o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-14830664835003301952023-10-18T09:47:00.003+08:002023-10-18T09:47:51.763+08:00Cast From The Herd Excerpt #99: Meeting A Polished Canadian Diplomat<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><div class="Ar Au Ao" id=":r8"><div aria-controls=":xu" aria-label="Message Body" aria-multiline="true" aria-owns=":xu" class="Am Al editable LW-avf tS-tW tS-tY" g_editable="true" hidefocus="true" id=":rc" role="textbox" spellcheck="false" style="direction: ltr; min-height: 325px;" tabindex="1"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 99: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Meeting A Polished Canadian Diplomat</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">By February that year (1963), the Higher School Certificate examination results were released. I passed, but Malay College’s aggregate performance was again disastrous. As with the year before, nearly half of my classmates failed to secure a full certificate, the culprit again being the notorious General Paper. Remember the soporific Mr. Tan? No further explanation needed! However in Malaysia, as my parents reminded me earlier and often, the teachers and system were never at fault, only that the students were not diligent enough.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Nonetheless the ugly reality remains. The curse of a less-than-diligent teacher goes far and deep. Mr. Tan dashed the hopes of so many of my promising classmates. That burden was borne not only by them but also their families, present and future. I would also add, the community.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>As a physician I am aware that if I were to perform at less-than-my-best, the impact would be felt only by my patients and their families. Not so with a teacher or leader. The curse of a less-than-diligent leader would be borne by the entire nation, and for generations. Likewise, the damage inflicted by a derelict and incompetent teacher goes far beyond his or her classroom.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>On the flip side, the best that even the most competent physician could do would be to bring her patients back to their pre-illness status, nothing beyond. For an imaginative and inspiring teacher however, there is no limit to the potential achievements of her students once she has ignited their passion for learning. Never underestimate the power, for good and bad, of a teacher.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the meantime I was busy preparing for my departure to Canada. I had received from the university a thick package. After going through them I felt that I knew the place. I visited the Canadian High Commission in Kuala Lumpur for my visa. When I told the receptionist that I would be attending the University of Alberta, she led me in to meet one of the officers who would be leaving the service soon to return to that university. That was how I first met Ivan Head. He was the Third Secretary, the junior-most professional position at the embassy.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Seeing that he was so young looking, I asked him what he would be taking, thinking that he would be pursuing graduate work. He smiled and said that he would be joining the Law School faculty. Oops! I was face to face with a soon-to-be Professor of Law! Before I could be embarrassed, he was already taking over the conversation. He updated me on the university, assuring me that its medical school was well regarded. Being an alumnus, he was able to tell me a lot more, as with the campus being in the midst of a massive expansion to accommodate the baby-boom generation.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>As I sat there now at ease, the thought struck me that this gentleman right across from me would be a Professor, and of Law at that, while I would be but a lowly freshman come that September. He shattered all the stereotypes I had of professors being aloof and imperious.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>On his desk I saw clippings of Malaysian newspapers. I felt guilty snooping but he showed me his work as Third Secretary. Apart from processing visa applications and answering questions from interested visitors like me, he read what was written in the local media about Canada.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I commented that the Canadian Foreign Service must be very competitive to have a law professor as its Third Secretary. Ivan Head laughed. He related that he had enjoyed his assignment in Malaysia and indicated that he did not intend to make the Foreign Service his career. His first love was academia. He had picked Malaysia as his first and only choice; had he not been posted there, he would have stayed in academia. I did not know whether that was the polished diplomat in him speaking or a genuine expression of his love for my country.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Encouraged by his lack of formality, I asked him whether I should buy warm clothing in Malaysia or wait till I arrived in Canada. He advised me to wait as whatever I could buy locally would not be warm enough. That sent a chill through me. Besides, there was the matter of style. “That is important for a young man,” he added, with a twinkle in his eye.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>In that brief visit I knew a little bit about this impressive diplomat, something more of the university, and a lot about Canada. In addition, I learned what a junior diplomat’s work entailed. Quite an education, all in less than half an hour! Ivan Head was the second Canadian I had met; the first being my math teacher earlier, Mr. Brown. I was favorably disposed to both. Good omen!<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Later that fall in between classes at the University of Alberta, I dropped by the Law Faculty then located in the old Arts Building to look up Professor Head. I found him in his office eating his home-made sandwich. Beside him was a metal lunch pail, the type carried by construction workers. He welcomed me and profusely apologized for being unable to share his sandwich as it had ham. Instead I accepted his apple after he offered it for the third time. There he was thousands of miles away from Malaysia and still remembering the common Malaysian courtesies, as his offering me the apple three times.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Professor Head became the faculty advisor to the Malaysian Students Association on campus. He and his wife Ann entertained us often at their home. I also found out a lot more about him. He was a star track athlete and had excelled as an undergraduate as well as in law school, before going to Harvard for his LLM. His particular expertise was the law of the sea, with emphasis on the Canadian Arctic. His seemingly arcane specialty would later be at the center stage of international affairs, with the possibility of a north-west passage.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Not long after, he became principal adviser to Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, Canada’s Kissinger as the press dubbed him. I crossed paths with him again at the Banff Springs Hotel. His first comment on seeing me was to inquire about developments in Malaysia. Here was a key advisor to the Canadian Prime Minister with a special interest in Malaysia. I wondered whether the Malaysian ambassador in Ottawa was taking full advantage of that fact.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>My last official business before leaving Malaysia was a briefing from a certain Mrs. McCoy, the “Principal Establishment Officer.” From her name I thought she was a leftover colonial officer who had missed out on her golden handshake, or one who had gone native. Imagine my shock to find a smallish Indian lady clad in a bright flowing<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>saree<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></i>with her black shiny hair pulled back severely in a tight bun.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>“So you figure yourself pretty smart to get this scholarship?” She chided me. “If you are not careful you could end up like the rest of them; having too much fun and flunking out.” She was a more threatening school mistress, less a helpful public servant.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Who was she to lecture me? She did not even know me. The nerve of her! Only the knowledge that she was in charge of my scholarship made me listen meekly and endure her bullying. That only encouraged her; she went on and on.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>At last I was let out, but not before she blasted out a final barrage. “Come back with only the certificate issued by your university,” she snarled. “Don’t bring home marriage and birth certificates!”<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>That was it. No goodbyes or good wishes. If she had meant her last statement to be a joke, I missed it. I could not help comparing this experience to my earlier one with Ivan Head. And the Canadian government, not Malaysian, would be funding my studies.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>People judge others as they would themselves. Mrs. McCoy thought others were like her, irresponsible and not diligent; hence her treating me that way. Ivan Head on the other hand was smart and conscientious; he believed others too were like him, and he treated them likewise.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Next: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Excerpt # 100: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Back for the Third School Term</span></p></div></div>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-57040983799896536442023-10-16T10:22:00.001+08:002023-10-16T10:22:10.978+08:00Leverage Islamic Studies To Make Malays Trilingual<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;">Leverage Islamic Studies To Make Malays Trilingual</b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">October 17, 2023<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">In January 2023 Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim declared that Islamic studies in schools and universities be reviewed to emphasize universal human values. A decade earlier at a Symposium on Higher Education in Muslim Societies at the Wilson Institute, Washington, DC, he asserted, “The crisis in higher education in many Muslim countries is manifested in myriad ways. . . . Among the root causes are those related to choice, content, and quality . . . . Islamic education has not much progressed . . . [beyond] Qur’anic and hadith studies.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Dispensing with rhetoric, I suggest using Islamic Studies to make Malays trilingual: Malay, English, and Arabic. As per modern neuroscience, multilingualism confers many cognitive advantages, quite apart from expanding your mind and worldview, together with conferring other advantages beyond mere economics. Non-Malay Malaysians are successful because most are functionally trilingual: Malay, English, and their native tongue. The Apek in Ulu Kinta who could speak only Hakka or the rubber tapper in Ulu Tiram only Tamil is unlikely to improve himself, much less contribute to the nation. Likewise the Malay fisherman in Ulu Marang who could communicate only in his Terengganu dialect.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> In his 2024 Budget, Anwar allocated a whopping 20 percent to education, including and especially the resumption of government grants to religious schools, together with building new ones. The budget for the latter exceeds that for STEM improvements for the entire nation! Even the proposed Artificial Intelligence Faculty at Universiti Teknoloji Malaysia gets far less. Stop funding religious education, much less build new schools, until its roles and objectives are rationalized.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Islamic bureaucracy also gets a whopping allocation. The strength of Islam is with and in the people, not with massive bureaucracies and sprawling magnificent edifices.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> There is a more fundamental issue with Islamic education. Muslim educators and teachers view it as less to sharpen minds, more to fill them with dogmas. Less education, more indoctrination. Syed Naquib Alattas put it more elegantly but the essence remains: to produce individuals with <i>adab</i>, the consequence of their having acquired knowledge (<i>ilmu</i>), and with that <i>hikmah</i> (wisdom). In Malay, <i>adab</i> means etiquette or good behavior. Know things and their proper place and role, as per the good Syed. For mere mortals, know your place!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Alas that’s the big rub. Who decides what is proper? Throughout history progress depended on those rare brave individuals who had challenged the natural order. In Islam, as per our Syed, that would be <i>biadab</i>. Challenge corrupt leaders as Hang Jebat did, then you would be far worse than <i>biadab</i> but <i>derhaka</i>(treasonous). Obey your sultan and you would be a hero, heaped with royal titles, and be venerated forever! You could even mess around with his concubines, as Hang Tuah did. On the other hand, had my late grandfather “knew his place,” I would today be a <i>hamba</i> (slave) at the palace in Sri Menanti.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Many dismissed modern education for being secular, devoid of values, good only for producing mere pegs for the cogs of the capitalist machinery. Pegs or not, the diligent worker who wakes up every morning to pick up your garage or attend to the electrical grid is serving his community. Spend all day at <i>ratib</i> (prayers) may get you to heaven, as per your reading of ancient texts, but you are not contributing to society. You are but a societal parasite. At least biological ones provide a useful service; they help tune up your immune response, that is, until they overwhelm you!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Munshi Abdullah likened a child’s mind to a parang, to be sharpened, not a dustbin to be filled with dogmas. Education is that sharpener. With a sharp parang you could hack yourself out of a jungle, or carve exquisite pieces of sculpture. All you could retrieve from a dustbin is what you had thrown in, minus what’s stuck at the bottom.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar Ibrahim should ask some tough questions of his education ministers. Are our schools and universities for rigorous intellectual pursuits or vocational training to produce future ulama? Even if we were to opt only for the latter, at least produce thinking ones, not those who could only recite pat answers gleaned from moldy tomes when faced with today’s complex dilemmas.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-63523310506699905012023-10-13T10:02:00.000+08:002023-10-13T10:02:02.381+08:00Mereka Yang Sebenarnya Bersalah Dalam Kes Ahamd Zahid <p> <span style="color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;">Mereka Yang Sebenarnya Bersalah Dalam Kes Jenayah Ahmad Zahid</span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">October 10, 2023<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Keputusan Mahkamah bulan lalu (September 4, 2023) melepaskan tanpa membebaskan (DNAA – nama singkatan dalam Bahasa Inggeris – Dismissal not amounting to an acquittal) Timbalan Perdana Menteri Ahmad Zahid Hamidi daripada tuduhan rasuah jenayah dan pengubahan wang haram berkaitan dengan dana Yayasan Akalbudi RM 31 juta mencetuskan banyak bidasan dari pakar undang-undang serta orang ramai. Ia juga nyaris menyebabkan satu pertunjukkan perasaan yang besar di ibukota. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Kemarahan dan perasaan kurang puas hati diarahkan pertama kepada Perdana Menteri Anwar Ibrahim; kedua atas kelemahan dan kurang kecekapan pentadbiran kehakiman dan undang undang negara. Zahid ialah Timbalan kepada Perdana Menteri Anwar. Oleh sebab itu, tohmahan pertama boleh agak difahami walau pun tidak berasas dan mungkin tersasar. Bandingkan dengan tiadanya bantahan ramai apabila bekas Perdana Menteri Muhyiddin Yassin dibebaskan daripada tuduhan rasuah melibatkan jumlah yang lebih besar, yakni RM 232.5 juta.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Dari segi kelemahan pentadbiran kehakiman, itu pun tidak bertempat. Malaysia adalah salah satu daripada beberapa negara yang telah berjaya mendakwa dan mempenjarakan bekas Perdana Menterinya. Itu menunjukkan pentadbiran kehakiman yang beres. Tetapi dengan Zahid pula, hasilnya jauh berbeza. Mengapa?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Perlu di perhatikan dan mesti diingatkan bahawa bersabit dengan kes bekas Perdana Menteri Najib Razak, Peguam Negara (AG) berkenaan, Tommy Thomas, dan ketua pendakwa raya, mendiang Gopal Sri Ram, bukanlah pegawai tetap Perkhidmatan Awam. Berdua di ambil khas dari dunia swasta. Ini menunjukkan bahawa kita akan lebih bermanfaat jika memereksa bukan cara perhakiman negara tetapi sebaliknya kepada dramatis personae, atau mereka yang berkait dengan pendakwaan Zahid.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Pertama ialah Peguam Negara kes Zahid, Idrus Harun. Dia memohon kepada mahkamah untuk melepaskan tanpa membebaskan (DNAA) Zahid hanya beberapa hari sahaja sebelum beliau bersara. Kedua, teliti sedikit kelulusan dan pengalaman dia. Ijazah undang-undangnya dari universiti tempatan dan dia tidak pernah pun berkerja di luar perkhidmatan awam. Pendek kata, dia mencerminkan mereka yang memperolehi kelulusan serta kerjanya atas atau melalui hak istimewa Melayu.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Yang lebih penting dan amat pelik, Idrus meminta DNAA itu semasa pertengahan perbicaraan yang sudah berlalu terpanjang, memakan lebih 53 hari mahkamah, mendengar daripada 99 saksi, dan selepas hakim memutuskan bahawa terdapat bukti prima facie (sepintas lalu) dan memerintahkan Zahid membela dirinya atas semua tuduhan.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Alasan Idrus Harun ialah (kononnya dalam katanya kepada Perdana Menteri Anwar) "untuk membersihkan hati nuraninya [Idrus] sebelum bersara." Patutnya hati nurani Idrus sudah tentunya jelas apabila dia memulakan pendakwaan Zahid.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Bagi pehak ketua pendakwa raya Zahid yang awal, Raja Rosela Toran, gaya persembahannya serta tatatertip beliau di dalam mahkamah menunjukkan bahawa dia tidak sedikit pun gentar atau hairan dengan kedudukan tinggi Zahid. Raja Rosela juga, tidak seperti Idrus Harun, telah memilih untuk bersara lebih awal lagi untuk memasuki sektor swasta. Perbuatan sedemikian bukanlah satu kebiasaan kepada mereka yang berjaya tanpa bergantung atas hak istimewa Melayu. Ini disahkan seterusnya. Raja Rosela, tidak seperti Idrus Harun, bukan seorang graduan tempatan.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Bagi hakim Yang Arif Collin Lawrence Sequerah pula, dia tersekat atas pendapatannya serta apa yang dia boleh buat. Tangan dan mulutnya terikat oleh undang undang negara serta tertatartib mahkahmah. Boleh tak boleh dia mesti membenarkan kehendak pendakwa yang memohon DNAA untuk Zahid. Dia hanya dapat membidas pendakwa serta kerajaan dengan cara halus. Yakni, pembicaran yang sudah pun berpanjangan merupakan satu lakuan yang membazirkan dana rakyat dan masa kakitangan kerajaan. Di sebalik kesopanan perutusan undang-undang itu, Yang Arif sebenarnya mengecam Idrus Harun.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Saya tidak tahu di mana Hakim Sequerah memperolehi kelayakan undang-undangnya, tetapi dia perpegalaman luas diluar perkhidmatan awam. Serta dengan namanya, dia tidak mungkin seorang yang tergantung kepada hak istimewa Melayu untuk mendapat kelulusan atau jawatannya.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Pengganti Idris Harun sebagai Peguam Negara ialah Ahmad Terrirudin Salleh, seorang lagi graduan undangan tempatan. Dia juga telah menghabiskan keseluruhan kerjayanya dalam perkhidmatan awam. Tidak mustahil jika ia akan mengikut langkah si Idrus Harun.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Semasa Anwar menjadi Perdana Menteri saya mencadangkan supaya beliau menggantikan Peguam Negara Idris Harun dan Ketua Suruhanjaya Pencegahan Rasuah Malaysia. Jika difikirkan semula, adalah kebijaksanaan Anwar yang dia tidak membuat sedemikian. Bayangkanlah jika Peguam Negara baru yang dilantik oleh Anwar memohon DNAA untuk Zahid! Malangnya pemerhatian isyarat ini terlepas oleh mereka yang mengecam Anwar dan mendakwa dia bercampur tangan politik dalam kes DNAA Zahid.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Sebaliknya jika Anwar pada mulanya melantik seorang luar yang berkaliber seperti Tommy Thomas sebagai Peguam Negara, bekas Perdana Menteri Muhyiddin Yassin mungkin hari ini sudah dalam penjara menyertai si Najib Razak. Begitu juga Ahmad Zahid. Renungkan sedikit berapa rengannya masaalah serta pening kepala Anwar sekarang! Maklumlah, Zahid akan di ganti oleh Mat Hassan sebagai ketua UMNO serta terus menjadi Timbalan Perdana Menteri yang baharu. UMNO tidak mungkin meninggalkan gabungan Anwar kerana pemimpin mereka kini sudah syok menikmati faedah mereka sebagai menteri.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar sedar dari awal semasa dia melantik Zahid sebagai Timbalan Perdana Menteri bahawa dia (Zahid) sudah pun menghadapi tuduhan jenayah tersebut. "Tidak bersalah sehingga dibuktikan bersalah" adalah amalan undang-undang dimahkamah jenayah. Tetapi di dunia luar, seperti memilih seseorang untuk jawatan tinggi seperti menteri kerajaan, itu semestinya memerlukan taraf amanah yang lebih tinggi, seperti tidak ada sedikit pun bau yang tidak sedap atau kelakuan yang tidak wajar.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Walau pun demikian rakyat Malaysia dalam kebijaksanaan mereka tidak memberi Anwar mandat majoriti dan dengan itu dia tidak bebas untuk memilih sesiapa yang diingginnya untuk menjadi menteri. Dia terpaksa memilih ranting yang diberi padanya oleh rakyat. Mewujudkan gabungan politik banyak ceritanya. Itu bukanlah satu perbuatan untuk mereka yang murni atau lemah semangat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Inilah kelebihan besar Anwar. Akibatnya sudah nyata. Negara pada hari ini mempunyai kerajaan yang stabil. Yang lebih penting lagi, negara dapat menjauhi kepimpinan kolot bolot Mahathir. Dia sedia dan tidak habis memburokkan kerajaan Anwar Ibrahim. Renungkan lebih sedikit sekali lagi. Oleh sebab kebijaksanaan politik Anwar negara sekarang tidak di bawah pemerintahan PAS dan Perikatan Nasional. Kedua dua nya korup serta tidak cekap. Bagi mereka yang sekarang mengutuk Anwar, ingatkanlah sedikit bahala yang negara kita sudah dapat elakkan. Fikiran sedemikian patut menginsafkan kita.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Saya harap Jawatankuasa Pilihan Parlimen akan meneliti kes DNAA Ahmad Zahid dengan teliti, terutamanya peranan kaki tangan kerajaan dari pihak pendakwa bermula dengan bekas Peguam Negara Idrus Harun. Saya harap keputusan Jawatan Kuasa Pilihan Parlimen tersebut akan mendorong Anwar untuk menggantikan Peguam Negara serta Ketua SPRM semasa dengan profesional dari luar yang berkelayakan dan pengalaman mantang. Ini adalah keputusan yang sudah terbukti. Penyerapan mereka dari luar yang berbakat serta beres amat diperlukan oleh negara pada masa ini.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-10551652307111845212023-10-11T09:13:00.004+08:002023-10-11T09:13:59.280+08:00The Missing Culprit(s) In Ahmad Zahid's Court Case<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">The Missing Culprit(s) In Ahmad Zahid’s Court Case</span></b></p><div class="Ar Au Ao" id=":t3"><div aria-controls=":vn" aria-label="Message Body" aria-multiline="true" aria-owns=":vn" class="Am Al editable LW-avf tS-tW tS-tY" g_editable="true" hidefocus="true" id=":sz" role="textbox" spellcheck="false" style="direction: ltr; min-height: 325px;" tabindex="1"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">October 10, 2023</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Last month’s (September 4, 2023) dismissal not amounting to an acquittal (the now infamous acronym DNAA) of criminal corruption and money laundering charges related to the RM 31M Yayasan Akalbudi funds against Deputy Prime Minister Ahmad Zahid Hamidi triggered a torrent of responses from local pundits, lay as well as legal. It also prompted a failed mass demonstration.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The fury was directed primarily at Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim and only secondarily on the presumed flaws in the system. Zahid being Anwar’s Deputy makes the first understandable, though still misplaced. For contrast as well as perspective, note the lack of outrage when Former Prime Minister Muhyiddin Yassin was acquitted of corruption charges involving the mega sum of RM 232.5 million.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>As for the presumed flaws of the system, Malaysia remains one of the few countries that have successfully prosecuted and jailed her former Chief Executive. Same system but vastly different results. What gives?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the conviction of former Prime Minister Najib Razak, it is well to remember that both the Attorney General (AG) Tommy Thomas and lead prosecutor, the late Gopal Sri Ram, were not career civil servants. That suggests it would be more fruitful to look not at the system rather the<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>dramatis personae</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>in the Zahid’s case.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>With Zahid, AG Idrus Harun, now safely retired, was a local law graduate who had never spent a day of his career outside the insular civil service, typical of an affirmative action product. More significant, he requested the DNAA just days before retiring and amidst a long trial that had already consumed over 53 court days, heard from 99 witnesses, and where the judge had earlier ruled that there was<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>prima facie</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>(at first glance) evidence and thus ordered Zahid to enter his defense on all counts.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>AG Idrus Harun’s purported reason to seek a DNAA at this late stage was, as reported by Prime Minister Anwar, “to clear his [Idrus] conscience before retiring.” I thought Idrus’s conscience was (or should have been) clear when he first filed those charges.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>As for the initial lead prosecutor, Raja Rosela Toran, her courtroom performances indicated that she was not in the least intimidated by Zahid’s exalted position. Unlike Idrus Harun, Raja Rosela had opted for early retirement to enter the private sector, not typical for a product of affirmative action, further confirmed by the fact that she, again unlike Idrus Harun, was not a local law graduate.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>As for the trial judge, The Honorable Collin Lawrence Sequerah, constrained in both his options and opinions, could only comment that asking for a DNAA at this late stage was but a massive waste of taxpayers’ money. Behind that legal decorum, he was in fact excoriating AG Idrus Harun.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I do not know where Judge Sequerah obtained his law qualification, but he had spent a chunk of his career in a major law firm before becoming a judge. That, together with his name, suggests he is unlikely to be a product of affirmative action.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Idris Harun’s successor as AG is one Ahmad Terrirudin Salleh, another local law graduate who had also spent his entire career in the civil service. He is also most likely an affirmative action product. As such, expect another Idrus Harun performance.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>When Anwar became Prime Minister I suggested that he replace both AG Idris Harun and Chief of the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission. In retrospect it was wise that Anwar did not. Imagine the uproar had an Anwar-appointed AG were to seek Zahid’s DNAA! Alas this signal observation is missed by those who claimed political interference in Zahid’s DNAA.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>On the other hand had Anwar appointed another AG in the caliber of Tommy Thomas, former Prime Minister Muhyiddin Yassin would today be in jail joining Najib. Likewise, Ahmad Zahid. Anwar would then be relieved of a major political headache, with Zahid’s deputy in UMNO, Mat Hassan, now becoming the new Deputy Prime Minister. UMNO is unlikely to leave Anwar’s coalition as UMNO leaders are now enjoying their perks.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>When Anwar appointed Zahid, Anwar was aware that he (Zahid) already faced those charges. While “innocent till proven guilty” is a fine legal precept in a criminal courtroom, not so when choosing someone for positions requiring high trust. The standard there must of necessity be more stringent, as with not even a hint of impropriety. However, Malaysians in their wisdom did not give Anwar a majority mandate and thus that privilege or freedom of choice is denied him. He had to reach out to Zahid, no doubt fingers to nose. Crafting a political coalition is not for the purists or faint-hearted.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>It is Anwar’s political genius that Malaysia today has a stable government. More significantly, Anwar has spared Malaysia the malignant leadership of the discredited Mahathir and his band of incompetents in PAS and Perikatan Nasional. For those now critical of Anwar, nothing focuses the mind more than to think of that alternative.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I hope Parliament’s Select Committee will grill all the major players in the Zahid case, except of course the Judge. Anwar should also seize that opportunity to replace the current AG as well as MACC Chief with competent professionals from the outside. An infusion of fresh top talent is what the nation desperately needs today.</p></div></div>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-36372413923754205382023-10-09T08:11:00.001+08:002023-10-09T08:11:17.155+08:00Cast From The Herd Excerpt # 98: Getting My Driver's License<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 98: Getting My Driver’s License<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Meanwhile the country was distracted by the hot political issue of the day: the proposed political union with the remaining British colonies in the region – Brunei, British North Borneo (now called Sabah), Sarawak, and Singapore – to form a greater Malaysia. Prime Minister Tengku Abdul Rahman first mooted it in May 1961, instigated and blessed by the British, and the idea caught on quickly. For the British, it was a convenient scheme to let go of its colonies and not be worried that they would fall into communist hands. This was at the height of the Cold War. With the staunch anti-communist Tengku, the British were reassured. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The enthusiasm however, was not universal. In Brunei there was an armed rebellion that December 1962, led by one A. M. Azhari. The sultan had to flee to Singapore until he was returned to his throne, with the help of British Gurkha troops. In the end Brunei bolted out, and Malaysia’s establishment was delayed to September 16, 1963 instead of the targeted August 31</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 8pt; position: relative; top: -3pt;">st</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">, the sixth anniversary of <i>merdeka</i>. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Fierce opposition also came from neighboring Indonesia and the Philippines; the latter through the more civilized route of a diplomatic petition to the United Nations, the former, with brutal military actions, <i>konfrontasi</i>. No wonder the government was distracted. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> When the second school term began, I was happy to be back teaching. After a week in school it was again the end of the month, and then much to my surprise, another full paycheck. They paid you even during holidays! </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> During that holiday I decided to get my driver’s license. I already had my learner’s for a few years but just to be sure, my father enrolled me in a driving school, one of those mom-and-pop operations owned by a Chinese man who could barely speak a word of Malay or English. We managed through grunts and hand gestures. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> On the day of the test he accompanied me to the Motor Vehicle Agency. There he demanded <i>duit kopi </i>(‘coffee money’), for the tester. I refused as I did not want my license tainted. After much argument and a warning of the dire consequences through grunts and sign languages, my instructor submitted my application without the extra cash. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The tester, a middle-aged Malay man, well-endowed in his mid-section, gestured to me to get into the driver’s seat. Still silent, he motioned me to proceed while scrutinizing my papers. We came to a junction; I stopped and waited for further instructions. Not getting any, I proceeded to turn right, at which point he jammed on the auxiliary brake on his side. Without waiting for me to recover from my jolt, he gestured to me to turn left. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> After about 15 minutes of driving, he directed me, again through gestures, to return to base. He got out and headed straight to his office. My instructor rushed over to me, shaking his head in disappointment. An hour later the clerk called me. Sure enough there was a big “X’ across my application. I had failed! I went ahead and made another appointment for three weeks later, the minimum required waiting period. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> This second time my instructor again insisted on the extra cash. As I could not afford any delay, I complied. The instructor took my money and partially tore the right upper corner of my application form to make it look like an inadvertent rip. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Soon my turn came; the same Malay tester, same dirty name tag, big belly, and gruff demeanor. We drove around for about ten minutes and when we returned my instructor signaled to me that I had passed. How on earth did he figure that out so soon, but he was right. That seemingly inadvertent tear in the top corner of my application form was the signal difference this time, marking it as “special.” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> A few months later there was a spectacular arrest at the agency. I recognized the name in the headlines. They listed his houses, stable of luxury cars, and assorted wives, all on his meager salary. Then as if to prove that he was indeed guilty, he hired the most expensive criminal lawyer from Singapore, a certain David Marshall. That high-priced lawyer did not help. As an aside, Marshal would later become Chief Minister of Singapore under the British. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> What a contrast to my Canadian driver’s test a year later. I spent about 20 minutes driving as my tester made running commentaries. “I would go a little slower on that turn!” and, “You should anticipate that fellow on the left not giving way.” I learned more about safe driving from him than I ever did from my illiterate Malaysian instructor. And no bribes! My Canadian tester even wished me good luck with my driving. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Next: </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 99: Meeting A Polished Canadian Diplomat</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-30577619144736478692023-10-04T10:17:00.003+08:002023-10-04T10:17:32.687+08:00Malay Leaders' Shameless Lack of Dignity (Takde Maruah)<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Malay Leaders’ Shameless Lack of Dignity (<i>Takde Maruah</i>)</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">October 3, 2023<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">The recent blip in the local news about the son of former Religious Minister and longtime Federal Mufti Zulkifli Albakri receiving zakat funds to pursue religious studies in Jordan drew a yawn from me. That reflects less of me, more on the current entrenched lack of shame (<i>takde maruah</i>) among Malay leaders of all stripes, religious as well as secular.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> That this involved zakat funds (tithe) meant for the poor should have caused an uproar, but even that fact did not. On the contrary, both Albakri and the religious officials who approved the “award” went at great length to justify their actions. That reveals the extent to which our norms and values (including religious) have been degraded.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> I would be generous and compliment that young man, as well as his father, had he (the son) pursued Quantum Physics at Caltech or Harvard. However, this was a scholarship for religious studies at a third-rate university and in the Third World to boot. Malaysia should not be sending her students there. Besides, Malays need another Islamic scholar like we need another rainy day during the monsoon season.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> I see so many children of Malay elite getting government dole. As such my threshold for shock is high. That notwithstanding, let us call Albakri’s son’s case for what it is, a “scholarship” or “study award” it is not.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> How did our community get degraded to this shameful stage?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Then consider this. Long before that perennial and loudest self-professed champion of <i>berdikari</i> (self-reliance) and <i>Ketuanan Melayu</i> (Malay Hegemony) Mahathir Mohamad became Prime Minister, he had a thriving private medical practice. That notwithstanding, he put all his children on the dole by their attending government residential schools, thus sparing himself what other parents had to pay: tuition fees, room and board, as well as textbooks. Likewise their university education, sanitized as “scholarships!” All these while running up and down the country exhorting Malays to emulate the Chinese by being self-sufficient. Today at 98 years old and rejected by voters, he changes his tune. Mahathir now blames <i>pendatangs</i> (non-Malays) for our sorry plight.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> I am no longer shocked by such revelations as with Albakri’ son. Instead I choose to remember the rare exceptions when Malays break from this “waiting for government handout” mentality. Years ago, a senior minister’s son who had just graduated from an Ivy League university confessed to me why he did not return to Malaysia. He was on his father’s ‘scholarship’ and as such was spared such an obligation. He feared that whatever achievements he made in Malaysia would forever be tainted as a consequence of his family ties. Refreshing perspective! Many a Malay Oxford graduate would exploit that relationship.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Six decades ago when my youngest sibling was awarded a university scholarship, my parents asked her to decline the offer. Instead, they paid her way. We had been blessed to have all her older brothers and sisters getting scholarships, my late father reasoned, that it was time to give others the chance. My parents were then close to retirement. Nonetheless with a Malay schoolteacher’s salary, even with both working, that was a struggle, but my parents managed it. I was never more proud of them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Once a physician in government service chided me for criticizing Malay professionals sending their children to these expensive fully-subsidized residential schools.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> “It’s fine for you to say that, Bakri. You are in private practice and in America to boot. Remember how lousy your pay was as a government doctor back in Malaysia!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Agreed! So the exceptions would be for those Malay professionals in public service. Give their children scholarships but only if they were to attend top universities, and pursuing other than revealed knowledge and prophetic traditions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Many years ago on the occasion of his son graduating from an elite university, I complimented my late friend Ahmad “Kim” Sabian, a retired furniture salesman. He and his wife Rose were well known to generations of Malaysian students here in the San Francisco Bay Area for their wonderful satay. I congratulated him (and his son Hisham), remarking that he had one up over those Malay ministers back home in that he did it without having to depend on MARA or some such bodies. Kim could hardly hold back his tears. Those tears were less of joy, more a sense of self-pride and accomplishment.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> It is this sense of accomplishment and self-pride that we must instill in our people if we Malays were to have our rightful slot in this world or even Malaysia. Endlessly shouting that Malaysia belongs to Malays would not do it. Save your breath!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> I am certain that in his next khutba, Albakri would at great length quote chapter and verse on the importance of giving zakat. However, it would never occur to him to even contemplate the flip side of that, that is, the reciprocal obligation of not consuming precious zakat funds.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <i>Tunjuk lah maruah sikit</i>! (Show some self-dignity and self-pride.) You owe that to yourself, your children, and most of all your congregation and community. During this Maulud Nabi when we are asked to emulate our Prophet, <i>s.a.w</i>., Mufti Albakri should ask himself whether our Prophet, <i>s.a.w</i>, would do or approve of what he (Albakri) did.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> The only redeeming feature to this whole shameful saga is that there was someone in that Religious Department with a modicum of integrity and self-pride. He emulated our beloved Prophet, <i>s.a.w</i>., in that when he saw evil being perpetrated, he did the right thing. He leaked that information in the hope that it could be stopped. It did not. Nonetheless his action gives me hope.<o:p></o:p></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-67591624574359708102023-10-02T09:58:00.007+08:002023-10-02T09:58:28.701+08:00Cast From The Herd Excerpt #97: The Novice Teacher<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 97: The Novice Teacher <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Mr. Norton had earlier discussed my being a temporary teacher at Malay College during the hiatus before going abroad. I was thrilled to be considered. While prestige was a factor, the more practical reason was that I would have some money before going to Canada. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> So that early December after leaving Malay College, I was anticipating <i>the </i>letter from “Headmaster, The Malay College” inviting me to return. January came and there was none. Disappointed, I went to my old Tuanku Muhammad School (TMS) in Kuala Pilah, but it had already made its selection. I scoured the “jobs wanted” ads but scored zero. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Later in the week my cousin Baharuddin who was teaching at the new Idris English School in Tanjong Ipoh, a couple of miles from my home, dropped by and said that his school was desperate for a science teacher. The headmaster, Mr. Chin Chin Ngan, happened to be my former home-room teacher during my Form Two at TMS. So that very afternoon I went to make my application. He was still in his office and better yet, remembered me. After a brief interview he offered me the job. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I started the very next day and was issued the science syllabus and textbooks. The textbooks were translations of a discarded series once used in the English stream. They were so outdated and full of errors that I was surprised the government saw fit to translate them. Perhaps they had the cheapest royalty payments. To refer to them as books would be too generous. They were but flimsy mimeograph sheets stapled together, with the print bleeding through, making reading them a challenge. The frequent irritating and glaring typos only made things worse. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The translations were appalling and erratic. They had translated the word instead of its root through slight alterations in the spelling as with <i>reaksi </i>for reaction (chemical). That only complicated matters when it came to finding the appropriate derivatives like “reactivity.” The translations were also inconsistent and haphazard, with “reaction” variously translated as <i>reaksi </i>and <i>tindakbalas</i>. In other instances they were simplistic, as with <i>kotiliden </i>for cotyledon. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I dispensed with the textbooks’ amateurish (or more accurately, half-assed) translations, reasoning that whether it was <i>kotiliden </i>or cotyledon, both would be new terms to my students. So why not learn the original English? That would help them with the reference books. I remembered the old brochures of the Rubber Research Institute’s extension department that my father used to receive where they maintained the original scientific terms. I reasoned that if my father could readily understand them, so could these bright young students. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I also ignored the obsolete experiments and made my students do the same ones I did at their level. I also designed new ones on seed germination, for example, and made them collect tadpoles and banana leaf moths to observe and record their metamorphosis. Those exercises served as a good introduction into science by sharpening their powers of observation and stimulating their interest in the natural environment. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Although these students came up through Malay primary schools, they were very different from my classmates at my mother’s old school a decade earlier. These students were more like those in the English stream: smartly dressed with socks and shoes, far from the <i>kaki ayam </i>(barefooted) with ragged shirts and pants that were the standard attire back then. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Like my prep school students at Malay College the year earlier, these kids were eager and diligent, but subdued and not assertive. A few may have been on par intellectually with the boys of my prep school, but as a group I could tell the difference. Part of the problem was their limited English proficiency. It did not help that they were put among English-stream schoolmates. Then there was their teacher – me, raw and untrained. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Between the excitement of a new job and the challenge of teaching science in Malay, the day went fast. Soon it was the end of the month and payday. What a pleasant surprise! I was told that my pay was $310.00 per month, the standard rate. My paycheck however, was considerably more, almost equal to my father’s, and he had been teaching for decades. I had not factored in the assorted allowances like COLA (Cost of Living Allowance). Right there I was impressed with the value of education as an investment. It paid, and did so very well for me. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> My father often discussed filial obligations with us. He reminded us that when we get our first paycheck we should offer him a portion, however small, as a symbolic gesture. So I did. To my surprise he refused it, as did my mother. She advised me to save the money as I would need it in Canada. So for subsequent paychecks I banked almost the entire amount as I had no living expenses being that I lived at home. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> How fortuitous that I was not offered the Malay College job. The pay would have been the same but I would have had all those living expenses. Whoever made that decision did me a great favor. Later I discovered that I was indeed offered the position, but the appointment letter was misaddressed to a Kampung Tengah in Perak, not Negri Sembilan. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> There was one major embarrassment. My younger brother Adzman was in Form Two of the English stream, and I had to teach his class Art. I was a dud when it came to anything artistic. Now I had to teach it – to my brother! It was a source of endless embarrassment for me. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I read all the books on art I could get. One in particular was helpful, <i>Art and the Human Form</i>. I learned much that would help me later in my anatomy class at medical school. My parents also helped me with my lesson plans by letting me read theirs. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> When the first term holidays came, I was more than ready for it. Earlier I had approached my headmaster whether there were courses over the holidays I could take, as with those earlier “normal-trained” teachers. There were none. Six years after introducing Malay secondary schools, they still had no formal program to train the teachers, especially for critical subjects like science and mathematics. This to me, and the earlier problem with textbooks, represented a dereliction of duty of the highest order by the country’s top leaders. Their victims? Again like today, young poor Malay kids.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Next: Excerpt # 98: Getting My Driver’s License<o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-71851942653441524322023-09-27T09:53:00.000+08:002023-09-27T09:53:01.283+08:00Ucapan Anwar Ibrahim di BBB<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Endahnya Ucapan Anwar Ibrahim Di Persidangan Agung Bangsa Bangsa Bersatu</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">26 September 2023<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Ucapan rasmi pertama Perdana Menteri Anwar Ibrahim pada 22 September 2023 di Perhimpunan Agung Tahunan Ke-78 Pertubuhan Bangsa-Bangsa Bersatu (UNGA) amat mengakumi. Dari segi nada, gaya serta isi beliau menyentuh semua dengan beres dan fasih samada isu serantau, seluruh dunia, atau antara sempadan seperti pemanasan dunia dan peminggiran golongan miskin.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Beliau bermula dengan kata aluan dalam Bahasa Melayu serta sambutan Islam sebelum beralih ke Bahasa Inggeris untuk ucapannya. Dengan Baju Melayunya dan samping serta songkok yang berwarna sederhana dia memancar suasana yang anggun. Dia sedar bahawa UNGA bukanlah tempatnya untuk mempamerkan pakaian berwarna-warni, mengayakan budaya yang pelik, atau bahasa yang kuno tetapi untuk berkongsi dan menukar fikiran dengan pemimpin lain supaya dunia yang kita orang takluk ini mungkin menjadi lebih baik dan adil. Itulah kecemerlangan Anwar. Ramai pemimpin kita yang sudah berucap di UNGA tetapi tidak siapa pun yang setanding dengan Anwar Ibrahim sama ada dari segi gaya atau kandongan.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Sebelum Anwar ialah Perdana Menteri Ismail Sabri. Gaya dan sikapnya adalah secara kampung. Dia lebih berminat main politik tempatan kononnya dengan menyampaikan ucapannya dalam Bahasa Melayu. Dia mungkin mendapat pujian tertinggi daripada pejuang bahasa di tanah air tetapi sayangnya sebilangan kecil sahaja perwakilan yang mengunakkan fon telinga mereka. Maknanya, tidak ramai memberi perhatian. Siapa yang ingin mendengar suara si penterjemah? Sebelum Ismail Sabri, giliran Muhyiddin Yassin pula. Dia lebih baik menyampaikan ucapannya dalam Bahasa Melayu dan bergantung kepada penterjemah rasmi.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Tuturan Bahasa Inggeris Najib Razak agak lebih beres, akibat didikannya di sekolah berasrama British. Tetapi pembentangannya bergaya hanya dari segi Bahasa; kandongannya kosong. Bagi Abdullah Badawi pula, ucapannya di UNGA dan di tempat lain bolehlah kita lupakan, seperti juga tempoh perkhidmatannya.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Mahathir Mohamad telah berucap di UNGA lebih banyak kali daripada pemimpin dunia yang lain, kecuali agaknya Presiden Zimbabwe Robert Mugabe. Mereka kedua banyak persamaan yang lain. Peminat Mahathir yang sekarang amat tipis serta pencacai Anwar sibok menceritakan bahawa kononnya jumlah kerusi kosong di dalam dewan ketika Anwar berucap melebehi berbanding penampilan terakhir Mahathir pada 2019. Kritis Anwar lupa bahawa perwakilan PBB tidak berminat mendengar apa yang orang tua ingin menyampaikan tetapi hairan bagaimana seorang tua boleh bercakap berpanjangan tanpa memgunakan tandas! Mengenai kandungan, ucapan Mahathir adalah cerita lama sahaja, yakni menentang Barat dan bermain di galeri Dunia Ketiga.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Tepukan pertama untuk Anwar muncul bila ia dengan bahasa yang jelas mengutuk pencerobohan Rusia ke atas Ukraine. Pengkritik Anwar di tanah air mengsifatkan itu sebagai membodek Amerika. Betul, kenyataan Anwar menggembirakan Barat, khususnya Amerika. Walau bagaimanapun, jika pencacai Anwar mendengar lebih lanjut lagi, beliau juga mengutuk pengilhakan Israel terhadap Palestin dan pengganasan terhadap rakyatnya. Itu mendapat tepukan yang lebih kuat. Amerika pasti tidak berpuas hati dengan itu.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Saya setuju dengan anggapan Anwar menyokong Ukraine. Malaysia, seperti Ukraine, juga mempunyai jiran yang juga lebih besar dan kuat yang sudah pun mencerobohi negara kita. Hanya ketidakcekapan dan rasuah Sukarno yang mengakibatkan konfrontasi 1960-an gagal.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Malaysia kini ada jiran yang lebih kuat lagi, iaitu Negeri China. Tetapi tidak seperti dengan Indonesia, sempadan kita dengan China bukan atas daratan tetapi di laut, yakni Laut China Selatan yang kini dipertikaikan. Sempadan air lebih sukar untuk ditakrifkan dan juga dipertahankan. Negeri China sekarang sibuk melenturkan kekuatan tentera lautnya dengan apa yang mereka sifatkan sebagai "Garisan Sembilan" (Nine-dash Line). Tuntutan mereka hanya tergantung atas peta kurun berkulat. Membuat tuntutan sedemikian adalah cara lama manusia, sejak sekurangnya maknusia boleh menulis. Ini bukan kali pertama peperangan akan dimulakan berdasarkan perbuatan sedemikian. Lihat Israel sekarang dengan Palestin.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar mendapat tepukan gemuruh apabila dia mengutuk pembakaran al-Quran di Sweden dan ketika dia menyuarakan penderitaan orang miskin. Membakar Qur’an ialah dengan terus terang sifat kebencian. Mengsembunyikannya di sebalik muka depan kebebasan bersuara hanyalah penyelewengan nilai-nilai murni kecerahan.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Beliau sekali lagi menghuraikan pembakaran al-Quran dalam khutbah Jumaatnya di Pusat Kebudayaan Islam New York. Di sini sekali lagi kepandaian Anwar untuk membaca pendengarnya terpamer dengan jelas. Dia menceritakan bagaimana kerajaan Madani bertindak, dengan menterjemahkan Qur’an ke bahasa Scandinavia dan menedarkannya percuma. Itu tindakbalasan yang tidak disangka, yakni terbalik daripada fikiran biasa, bahkan seumpama menuang petrol (atau kertas) ke api. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Tetapi, sebagaimana yang di huraikan oleh Anwar dengan begitu fasih dalam khutbahnya, hanya ilmu dan kebijaksanaan atau hikmah yang boleh menatasi kejahatan dan kejahilan. Umat Islam mesti menunjukkan aspek keimanan yang agung ini dalam kehidupan kita seharian.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Dalam karyanya <i>Muhammad: Manusia dan Nabi</i>, penulis Saudi Adil Salahi memetik nasihat yang diberikan oleh ayahnya. “… [M]encintai Nabi Muhammad hanya boleh ditunjukkan dengan mengikut ajarannya, bukan dengan menyanyikan pujian baginda.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar hebat sebagai pemimpin dunia seperti yang kita lihat ketika dia berucap di UNGA, dan beberapa jam kemudian sebagai seorang rohaniah dengan khutbahnya. Dia mencontohi Nabi besar kita, s.a.w., dalam mendamaikan mualamat dan ibadat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Mari bersama berdua semoga Allah terus membimbing Anwar Ibrahim untuk memimpin Malaysia ke arah masa depan yang lebih cerah, aman, dan sejahtera. Amiin!<o:p></o:p></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-82172354567054608032023-09-26T10:03:00.005+08:002023-09-26T10:03:48.199+08:00Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim's Eloquent UNGA Speech<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim’s Eloquent UNGA Speech</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">September 25, 2023<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim’s eloquent speech on September 22, 2023 at the 78<sup>th</sup> session of the Annual United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) was in a class of its own. In tone, style as well as content he struck all the right chords, addressing regional, world, and transnational issues as global warming as well as the disenfranchisement and marginalization of the poor.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> He began in formal Malay except for the traditional Islamic greetings before switching to English for his speech proper. His attire of <i>Baju Melayu</i> with <i>samping</i> and <i>songkok</i> in understated colors was simple yet elegant. The UNGA is not the place to display your colorful costume, exotic culture, or quaint language but to share with others your visions and aspirations for a better world. This, Anwar did brilliantly. His predecessors too have all addressed the UNGA but none matched Anwar’s superb performance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> His immediate predecessor Ismail Sabri was parochial, more interested in playing local politics by delivering his speech in Malay. He may have won plaudits from language nationalists back home but alas few delegates kept their earphones on. Nobody wants to hear a translator’s voice. His predecessor Muhyiddin Yassin on the other hand would have been better off speaking in Malay and relying on the official translator.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Najib Razak’s crisp English, from his British boarding school upbringing, made his presentations glossy but alas that could not compensate for the lack of substance. As for Abdullah Badawi, his speeches at UNGA and elsewhere were as forgettable as was his tenure.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Mahathir Mohamad had addressed the UNGA more times than any world leader except perhaps Zimbabwe’s Mugabe. Both also share some other unsavory features. Mahathir’s dwindling fans as well as Anwar’s domestic detractors have made much on the purported number of empty seats in the hall when Anwar was speaking as compared to when Mahathir last appeared in 2019. They forget that those UN delegates then stayed less to hear what the old man had to say, more a voyeuristic curiosity on how a nonagenarian would perform without bathroom breaks! As for content, it was Mahathir’s usual and predictable carping against the West and his playing to the Third World gallery. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar’s first applause came when he in clear unequivocal language condemned Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. His critics back home saw that as his sucking up to America. Yes, Anwar’s statement pleased the West, America in particular. However if his detractors had listened further, Anwar also condemned Israel’s annexation of Palestine and terrorizing the Palestinians. That drew even louder applause. You can bet that the Americans were not pleased with that.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar is correct to support Ukraine. Malaysia, like Ukraine, also has powerful neighbors and had indeed been invaded by one. Only Sukarno’s ineptness and corruption made the 1960s <i>konfrontasi</i> fail.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Malaysia now has an even more powerful neighbor, China. Unlike Indonesia, our border with China is not terrestrial but maritime, in the now-contested South China Sea. As such it is much more difficult to define and defend. China is flexing her naval muscles with its so-called “Nine-dash Line” claim. This relying on moldy documents to exert territorial claim is as old as humankind, or at least written documents. It would not be the first time that wars would be started based on such purported deeds.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar drew enthusiastic applauses when he condemned the recent spate of Qur’an burning in Sweden, and when he voiced the plight of the poor. As for the former, hatred and intolerance are just that. Hiding behind the façade of freedom of expression is but a perversion of enlightened values. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar reiterated the Swedish Qur’an burning incident later in a Friday <i>khutba</i> (sermon) at the Islamic Cultural Center of New York. Here again Anwar’s genius in reading his audience was on clear display. He related his Madani government’s response, translating the Qur’an into Scandinavian languages for free distribution. Counter intuitive, as with literally throwing fuel (or paper in this case) into the fire. However as Anwar so eloquently elaborated in his <i>khutba</i>, only knowledge (<i>ilm</i>) and wisdom (<i>hikmah</i>) could win over evil and ignorance.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar’s informal session with local Malaysian students was refreshingly candid. Together with their probing questions and Anwar’s substantive responses, that encounter brings home the value of sending Malaysians to great American colleges instead of the usual Creekville State universities or Third World institutions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> In the epigraph to his biography of the Prophet, <i>s.a.w</i>., <i>Muhammad: Man and Prophet</i>, the Saudi writer Adil Salahi quoted the advice his father gave him. “… [L]oving Prophet Muhammad could only be demonstrated by following his teachings, not by singing his praises.” In being eloquent both as a secular leader as he did in addressing the UNGA and a few hours later as a spiritual one with his <i>khutba</i>, Anwar emulates our great Prophet, <i>s.a.w</i>., in blending affairs <i>mualamat</i> (secular) with <i>ibadat </i>(spiritual).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> May Allah continue guiding Anwar Ibrahim to lead Malaysia to a better, peaceful and prosperous future. Ameen!<o:p></o:p></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-27016359886880437652023-09-25T06:29:00.007+08:002023-09-25T06:29:54.876+08:00Cast From The Herd Excerpt #97: Will We Ever Meet Again?<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 97: Will We Ever Meet Again?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Soon it was the last day of school and I still had one paper to go, my favorite, Chemistry. The boys at my dorm were already busy packing, excited to go home for the long holidays. As I stood there watching them, I remembered their first day and the many months that we had shared together since. I was proud of them; their intelligence sparkled. I remembered comforting more than a few when they were homesick. I assured them that I too was, even though I left home at a much older age. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> There were the twins Salleh and Sallim. It was difficult to tell them apart; hence they had more than their share of practical jokes. I remember comforting another boy, a product of a mixed marriage, who was obsessed that he did not look Malay enough. Then there was the boy forever teased for being my presumed favorite. The fact was he always scored tops in his class and thus merited my frequent recognition of him during Friday inspections. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I remember an aloof boy; he was smart and felt belittled if not downright disdainful of my silly little games of recognizing academic achievers. He did not wish to participate, deeming them below him. One day I received word that he had excelled in his test, and that Friday before dorm inspection I duly recognized him, making an extra fuss. He beamed and thereafter warmed up to me.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Then there was the chirpy boy, sharp with his rebuttals. He was also from a mixed marriage. One day his father came to visit him. He could not speak any English and his Malay was the ‘bazaar’ variety, but he was so proud of his boy that he wanted to meet me, his son’s prefect. I praised his son, but the boy was uncomfortable in his father’s presence. Poor kid!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> My dorm also had its share of talented athletes. Rusli Yahya was so good that he made the school’s varsity (senior) rugby team after his first year, an unheard of achievement! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Soon I would have to say goodbye to these bright kids. They had been such a major part of my life during these past twelve months. I was their mentor, counselor, big brother, and, yes, role model, except that I was useless at sports. I kept thinking what my earlier classmates said at our farewell party at my old school in Kuala Pilah two years before: Will we ever meet again? </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I was grateful to have been made prefect and thus the opportunity to know these bright boys, as well as those promising sparks in the science stream of the Fourth and Fifth Forms. My younger brother Adzman would later join that Prep School Class of 1962 at Form Four. Through him I kept abreast of the achievements of these students. They were spectacular, and gave me hope for the future of Malay College. They changed my initial warped view of the institution. Now with these smart kids Malay College would never again have to depend on ‘outsiders’ like me to fill its empty Sixth Form slots. There will be none; instead the challenge would be to expand for more spaces. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Looking back, had Malay College continued on with its then new policy, that is, admittance strictly through merit and emphasis on STEM, the college, Malays, and Malaysia would have changed dramatically by today, and for the better. Instead, after a decade of spectacular successes, the now all-native leaders of MCKK decided in their collective wisdom that it was no longer necessary to emphasize STEM or English. Thus instead of becoming a feeder school for the leading universities of the world as MCKK’s peers elsewhere in the region are doing, Malay College today is but another nondescript residential school. Its students have to go elsewhere to matriculate. Even when it belatedly introduced the International Baccalaureate Program over a decade ago, even today it is still not the top choice for many bright young Malay boys. That spectacular success of my Prep School Class of 1962 remains but a splash-in-the-pan performance for MCKK, never to be repeated. What a tragedy!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> That night, my last in Kuala Kangsar, alone in my cubicle and now an empty dorm, I was weighed down with sadness. My two years at Malay College was coming to an end, and alas too fast. They were the best. I may have started on a sour note, but in the end I was grateful for all the experiences and opportunities that Malay College had afforded me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Next: Excerpt # 98: The Novice Teacher<o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-80452522374398100932023-09-18T09:51:00.006+08:002023-09-18T09:51:54.004+08:00Cast From the Herd Excerpt # 96 Anxiously Waiting For The Big Envelope<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 96: Anxiously Waiting For The Big Envelope</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Back on campus a few weeks later as we were sitting for the important terminal examination, a major distraction cropped up. The big fat envelopes arrived for the lucky few. Hadi, my fellow prefect at Prep School, won a Colombo Plan scholarship for Veterinary Medicine in Australia, together with Abdul Rahman. Nik Zainal had his for Medicine at Monash, Australia. For all three, that was their first choice. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Atan had one for genetics, also in Australia. That was not his first choice; he wanted to be a doctor. In truth, had he been given the choice of medicine locally and genetics in Australia, he would have opted for the latter. The lure of going abroad was hard to resist even if it meant changing your career goals.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Those who drew blanks were disappointed. Somehow I was not. I was afraid that their disappointment would affect their performance for the rest of the terminal examination. It was for that reason that I refused to be disappointed and concocted many excuses, like the best being last. It helped that Atan assured me that I would probably end up in Britain. There the academic year would not begin until September, unlike Australia where it was February; hence the early notifications. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Atan meant well. However, if there was one place I did not want to go, it would be Britain. My preference was Canada. Mr. Norton and I had earlier discussed American universities. At that time the newspaper carried the news of a Malay boy from Singapore who had been awarded a United Nations scholarship to pursue medicine in New York. That prompted me to explore American medical schools. I discovered that medicine there was a graduate program. While it would take only four years, you must first have an undergraduate degree, making it an eight-year program, as compared to the five or six locally and elsewhere in the British Commonwealth. Also, as American degrees were then (still is) not recognized in Malaysia, I ruled out that option. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Norton dismissed the long duration. I was still young, he assured me. As for Malaysia not recognizing American degrees, he winked and said not to worry as the world would. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Canada had a similar American-style liberal education but being in the British Commonwealth, Malaysia recognized Canadian credentials. Its premed program was also shorter. Mr. Brown had earlier sold me on Canada. So please God, do not send me to Britain; there was already a glut of Malaysians there. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> At last my much-anticipated fat envelope arrived. I was Canada-bound, together with three others, under the Colombo Plan scholarship. I feigned disappointment in not being sent to Britain but in my heart I was jubilant. I thanked Allah for answering my prayers. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I met Mr. Norton later in the day. He winked at me and chuckled, “Look up Osman Nor when you are up there!” I never knew Osman as he was a few years ahead of me. Norton often mentioned him in class. “The sharpest mind ever to step foot at Malay College,” was his praise of Osman. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Next Excerpt #97: Will We Ever Meet Again?<o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-59164202352028794902023-09-11T10:00:00.004+08:002023-09-11T10:00:36.912+08:00Cast From the Herd Excerpt # 95: So You Want to be a Doctor<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Excerpt # 95: So You Want To Be A Doctor!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">When I returned from the break in the morning’s interview session, and following my grandfather’s advice, I sneaked a small twig into my right palm. Soon I was called in. There were four interviewers, including a stern-looking Indian lady. The chairman, I presumed, was an old Malay man with curly backswept hair and generously streaked with gray. He was still smacking his lips savoring the lingering sweet aftertaste of the <i>teh tarik </i>(sweetened tea with cream) he had during the break. They were all busy flipping through their files. I tried to maintain eye contact but had difficulty as they were all looking down. Soon the chairman cleared his throat and everyone stared at me. I looked at each one of them and silently recited my grandfather’s <i>du’a</i>. Then I unobtrusively snapped the twig in my palm, and with that I felt a sudden surge of confidence. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “Are you Mohammad Bakri Bin Musa?” intoned the chairman. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “Yes, sir!” That was it. No introduction, no good morning, no pleasantries to settle me down. Right to the point; good! </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “What do you plan to take at university?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “I want to be a doctor, sir!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “I said, ‘What do you plan to take.’ Listen to the question.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “Oh, medicine, sir!” was my calm reply. Even I was surprised to have such composure despite the initial goof.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “Why do you want to be a doctor?” he continued.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I related how exciting life would be as a physician. Your days would not be predictable; on certain days you would be jubilant because you made the right diagnosis and helped someone, on other days less so. You might even be disappointed with your misdiagnosis or failed treatment. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “Very interesting,” he observed. “Unlike what we do here where every day is the same,” he laughed, and his fellow panelists smiled. “Do you have a doctor in your family?” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “No sir!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “Then how do you know these things?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I described the annual career days at our college. I remembered hearing one Dr. Khalid Sahan, an “old boy” who was then stationed at Kuala Kangsar, describing his typical day. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> “You actually paid attention?” the chairman mocked me. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I was afraid he would ask about other doctors who had influenced me. I knew of no one else, but he did not. Then he passed me over to his fellow panelists. Just before that the severe-looking Indian lady removed a letter from her file. I recognized the letterhead crest. She seemed to approve of its content. There was a moment of silence as the others digested it, giving me an opportunity to read their facial expressions. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> That must be the letter from Mr. Norton that my classmates were talking about earlier. I just hoped that the prefect who sneaked a look had read it right. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> As the other panelists composed themselves, each began quizzing me. They must have asked inconsequential questions as I do not remember my replies. When they dismissed me, I left feeling confident. While I did not swagger out, nonetheless I felt like a brash young commander who had prevailed with minimal difficulty over formidable enemy territory. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Later at lunch we, my fellow college mates and I, were as usual going over our earlier battles, trading wartime stories. They were surprised that I was not asked specific questions on medicine. Ramli whispered his intuition, “Bakri, you got it!” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Looking back, I wonder what would have happened had the chairman extended his hand for a handshake. How on earth would I have explained the twig in my palm? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Next: Excerpt 96: Anxiously Waiting For The Big Envelope<o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-20904150136705753462023-09-04T10:06:00.000+08:002023-09-04T10:06:04.447+08:00Casr From The Herd Excerpt # 94: The Twig<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Excerpt # 94: The Twig<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">In August, we Upper-Six Formers had to sit for the university scholarship examination. Unlike other tests, the scores would not be released. You would know how well you did from the quality of the scholarship you would be awarded, or not awarded. By October, the letters for the scholarship interviews began arriving, with aspiring engineers to be interviewed one week and future doctors, another. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The week before the interview a rumor began swirling around. The clerk who typed those letters of recommendation from the teachers had left one unsecured on his desk overnight, and the prefect who entered the office had an accidental peek. It was Mr. Norton’s letter of recommendation on me. I was embarrassed when the purported content was related. Not that I was displeased, but the effusive praise made me uncomfortable. Nazuddin however, complimented me, assuring me that Norton carried considerable weight in Kuala Lumpur. That was all I needed; flattery to distract me just before an important interview. Lay on the burden! </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> To avoid taking too much time off seeing that we were in the critical final term, my would-be doctor classmates and I took the late afternoon train to arrive in Kuala Lumpur early the next morning in time for the interview. We would then return the same afternoon to arrive back by late evening. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The interview was at the Public Service Commission’s office up on the hill at Jalan Young, not far from the train station. After freshening ourselves up at the station and having breakfast at the <i>mamak </i>(Indian) stall, we strolled up the hill. The city was still empty and the air, cool. The rising sun had yet to warm it. We arrived just as the office was opening. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The complex was a former British army base and comprised a series of Quonset huts connected by covered walkways. When the British troops left, the complex became a major government office. The Prime Minister at the time, Tunku Abdul Rahman, unlike his later successors, was not one to splurge on ostentatious buildings for his civil servants. He would rather spend the money on schools and scholarships. The only concession to modernity was the wall air-conditioner units. They were already humming full blast that brisk morning. Those local officers must have missed the English weather of their student days. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The waiting room had a stiff, subdued air of formality, with individual wooden chairs. I was seventh in line for the interview but the first after the mid-morning break. The four of us from Kuala Kangsar were the first to arrive. Soon others trickled in. Judging from how fresh they looked, they must be from local schools. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Ramli whispered, “We have tough competition!” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I agreed, which triggered the hitherto quiet butterflies in my stomach although I had fortified myself psychologically for this interview. Sometime in the past my grandfather had taught me some pointers. He reminded me to always remember that my interviewers were also humans and that after they had done questioning me they would go home and face all the mundane problems of ordinary mortals; their kids quarrelling and spouses arguing, among others. So do not be intimidated by them. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> He instructed me on some <i>petua </i>(rituals). On entering the room I should have in my closed right palm a small twig, and to make eye contact with each interviewer. Then I was to recite a verse from the Holy QurK’an which, approximately translated, states that we are all children of Adam and that there is a greater power up there governing us all. Then I should surreptitiously snap the twig, symbolizing my ‘breaking’ the interviewers’ power over me. From then on I would be unafraid of and effectively control the interview, my grandfather assured me. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> During the break my three classmates who had been interviewed earlier that morning related their ordeals. Yusof Sidek was angry because they asked him to cite examples of medicinally-important plants. Another was asked about malaria. That surprised me as I thought the interview was to get to know us as a person, not to gauge our scientific knowledge. That was already tested in the examination. In preparing for this interview, all I did was review general topics like why I wanted to be a doctor. Knowing what Yusof Sidek and the others had been through only made me even more nervous. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Next: Excerpt # 95: So You Want To Be A Doctor!<o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-70792022920785631212023-08-30T10:36:00.003+08:002023-08-30T10:36:59.164+08:00Use Imam Nawawi's Forty Hadith To Sharpen Young Mins<p> <b style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Use Imam Nawawi’s<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Forty Hadith</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>To Sharpen Young Minds</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">M. Bakri Musa</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Properly conducted, we all can learn from Imam Nawawi’s collection of forty (in actuality 42) hadith (sayings attributed to Prophet Muhammad, may peace and blessings be upon Him). The operative phrase is “properly conducted.” As for restricting it only to Muslims, well, as a believer I have learned much from reading about Socrates, an avowed atheist.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The tragedy for Muslims is that the teaching of hadith at all (including graduate) levels is a one-way street, reminiscent of the Catholics’ catechism. Less education, more indoctrination; little learning, a whole lot of listening. Mufti Albakri’s recent 50-minute lecture on Nawawi’s first hadith (Actions be judged by intentions) was typical. He spent over 40 minutes reciting the hadith’s long chain of narrators as well as its various equally tedious iterations, all in their original Arabic. This was after his droning endless praise of the author. Albakri was less to educate, more to impress listeners with his prodigious memory, flawless Arabic, and (to him) mesmerizing oratory. There was not a word on the hadith’s relevance to everyday life or its connection with the Qur’an. It was all an endless recitation and regurgitation of factoids, no critical analysis. That would be blasphemy. Alas, this is the norm.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Likewise with the many translations of Imam Nawawi’s book. The latest (2023, by Faisal Ahmad Shah) is so formulaic, like the translation of a book of recipes, with the same long mini biographies of the various narrators. No prompts for readers to think. Must all actions have intentions? What about unintended consequences? How sure are we of our intentions?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The Ministry of Education’s proposed “study module” on Nawawi’s<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Forty Hadith</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>would degenerate along similar mind-numbing patterns. What a shame as both hadith and Qur’an are great resources for exercises in critical thinking, quite apart from lessons and inspirations to lead a purposeful life.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>In my book<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Qur’an, Hadith, And Hikayat: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Exercises In Critical Thinking</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>(2021) I chose a familiar hadith:<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span> Seek knowledge even if you have to go to China. Zimbabwe’s Imam Ismail Menk discussed this particular hadith for over three hours to a packed audience in Kuala Lumpur many years ago. He dismissed the second part of the hadith (going to China) as not<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>sahih</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>(authentic) as the Prophet (pbuh) could not possibly have heard of China any more than he could Kuala Lumpur.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Contrast Menk to one young Indonesian girl, Bina Izzatu Dini. She was intrigued by that hadith. After all, everything is made in China these days, from the<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>sejadah</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>(praying mat) to models of the Kaabah. So she decided to explore that hadith. Indeed the prophet, being a merchant, must have heard of China as the ancient Silk Route passed through the northern part of the Arabian Peninsula. The upshot of Bina’s curiosity was that her essay won her a scholarship to a Chinese university! I do not know what her intentions were in pursuing that hadith, but she was amply rewarded for that. And she did not have to wait till the Hereafter!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I once attended as a guest the Masters of Islamic Studies seminar at the University of Malaya. I was attracted by the credentials of the lecturer, a PhD from a leading American university. That program was also popular with ambitious young Malay civil servants out to burnish their Islamic credentials, thus greasing their career paths. Halfway through his presentation, the esteemed professor said something ridiculous that prompted me to ask a question. Instead of addressing my query, he brushed me aside.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>My friend apologized on behalf of his professor. There was so much material to cover that he (the professor) did not have time to answer questions, was the excuse. Obviously the professor was not an educator; more a postman.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Contrast that to the experience of retired Duke Professor of Islamic Studies, Bruce Lawrence. Though not a Muslim his course was popular with students from the Third World needing to fulfil their humanities prerequisites. He was astounded when one of his students who despite being a hafiz (one who had memorized the Qur’an) could not understand a word of it. In the ensuing discussion Lawrence learned much about the Pakistani education system, demonstrating the truism that teaching is the best way to learn.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Malay teachers regard their students as bins to be filled with dogmas, akin to Paulo Freire’s bank account model. You get only what you put in, minus fees with the latter and what’s stuck at the bottom with the former. Why not heed the wisdom of Munshi Abdullah? He likened a child’s mind to a parang, to be sharpened. With a sharp parang you could hack your way out of a jungle. To a surgeon, a sharp knife is an instrument to cure cancer; to a thug, a killing kit. Differentiating the two is the Islam part of Islamic education.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> By all means, t</span>each Imam Nawawi’s<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Forty Hadith</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>to sharpen students’ critical faculties, not numb their minds. As for perspective as well as priority, including hadith in the school curriculum should be far below that of English and Chemistry. Instead, do it as an extracurricular activity.</p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-58265676716637560292023-08-28T10:29:00.004+08:002023-08-28T10:29:48.050+08:00Casr From The Herd Excerpt # 93: Annual Speech Day And Sports Meet<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><div class="Ar Au Ao" id=":u9"><div aria-controls=":wt" aria-label="Message Body" aria-multiline="true" aria-owns=":wt" class="Am Al editable LW-avf tS-tW tS-tY" g_editable="true" hidefocus="true" id=":u5" role="textbox" spellcheck="false" style="direction: ltr; min-height: 305px;" tabindex="1"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Excerpt # 93: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Annual Speech Day And Sports Meet</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Prefects were much on display during premier school events like the Annual Speech Day and Sports Meet. You could also count on those occasions being graced by the sultans. That year’s Sports Day was of particular interest as the King would be in attendance, his first visit to his son on campus. Excitement was high, more so at Prep School.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>That afternoon after lunch with everybody eager to leave for the function at Big School, the main part of the campus, I waited to make certain that everyone was gone. Then when I was sure of that, I sneaked back into my cubicle and read my<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>National Geographic</i>. I figured that with everyone eager to see and be seen with the sultans, no one would notice my absence.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>It did not take me long to fall asleep, what with the unusual quietness. I must have had a long deep sleep for when I was awakened by the noise of the boys returning, it was already dusk. When I was certain that most had returned as judged by the noise level, I slipped out into the crowd to jointly enthuse with them on what a great day it had been. I was right; nobody had noticed my absence.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Or so I thought. Later in the quiet of the evening after “lights out” when all the kids had settled in their beds, Mat Gajah, my fellow Prep School prefect, tiptoed into my cubicle and in a hushed voice inquired, “Where were you this afternoon?” So he knew! I shrugged and kept quiet. “I don’t believe in this sultan shit either,” he said, “but I wouldn’t dare do what you did!”<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>He was incredulous that I would even consider let alone do what to him was clearly an act of contempt if not<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>derhaka</i><span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>(treachery) towards our rajas. In Malay society, when the sultan is present, you stop everything and be ready to execute his every command.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The other important campus event was Speech Day, an academic recognition day combined with the school exhibition. We again anticipated our share of sultans attending. Yusof Sidek and I had partnered to dissect a live rabbit (appropriately anesthetized of course), complete with open chest and a beating heart. The objective was to demonstrate the heart’s action to various drugs.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>In vivo<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></i>dissection to us biology students was routine; not so for others.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I manned the exhibit first so that when it was time for the sultans’ visit later in the day I could say to Yusof, “It’s your turn.” What I did not anticipate was that he too was not enamored with royalty. So when I turned to him, he protested and insisted that he was but my sidekick and took off, leaving me sweating. Meanwhile the royal entourage was fast heading towards my bench. In desperation I found a classmate who was not doing anything. I begged him to take over on the pretext that I had to go to the bathroom. Eager to give a performance for the sultans, he readily agreed, and I gave him the fastest science lab demonstration in the history of the school!<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>With that I bolted out, a trapped tiger released from its cage. By then I was truly desperate for the bathroom, the anxiety having taken its toll. I savored the double relief of my now-empty bladder as well as being spared the dilemma of how to address Their Highnesses. Was it<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span><i>sembah<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></i>(genuflect) first and then greet, or was it the other way around?<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>When I returned, my classmate was surrounded by those squealing princesses. He was enjoying himself, telling those giggling girls the various anatomical parts of the rabbit. Thank God it was a female specimen! Otherwise there would have been bashful giggling and blushing as the girls were shown the various anatomy.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>As things had settled down, I left to look for my absconded partner. I told him that I had taken care of the matter and that it was now his turn to clean up. Yusof readily did his part.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Next: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Excerpt # 94: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The Twig</span></p></div></div>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-64751889190042954432023-08-21T11:08:00.001+08:002023-08-21T11:08:11.394+08:00Cast From The Herd: Excerpt #92: Duties of a Prefect<p> <b style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Excerpt # 92: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Duties of a Prefect</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Part of a prefect’s duty was to supervise evening “prep” or study hours. Three classes – Forms Four and Five Science, and Form Four “D” Arts – were the least popular with the prefects, and for opposite reasons. Sixth Formers did not need supervision; they were deemed adult enough.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The science boys were unpopular because of their brilliance and perhaps arrogance. They were aware that science was now emphasized and that they were the new privileged group. They had a reputation of making fools of their supervising prefects, especially those they deemed less-endowed intellectually, meaning the jocks. The D class presented a problem at the other end of the spectrum. Malaysian schools stream their students in order of merit, with the top students in the A class, the next in B, and so on. The D class needed no elaboration. Form Four being the ‘honeymoon’ year (no year-end national examination) only aggravated the situation. It was my luck to be assigned those three classes most often. I thought long and hard on how to manage them. An early error and I would be shark’s bait, triggering a feeding frenzy.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Hadi told me that the science boys would test you on your first session by bringing up a tough problem on the pretext of seeking your assistance. If you could not help them, then someone from the class would come up and solve it on the board, thus reducing you to a dimwit. As for the D class, Hadi advised me to establish my authority early so they would not dare test me later. If I were to give any leeway in the beginning, he warned me, they would take advantage of that and I would lose all control.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The first class I had to supervise was Form Four Science. Hadi was right; they were so predictable but I was ready. As luck would have it, they gave me a problem that Mr. Brown had tackled it in my class the previous year. The one thing that I remembered about that particular problem was that the answer given at the end of the book was wrong, a typo. That class assignment also revealed how far ahead that class (and Malay College) was by this time in that Mr. Brown had given them the same problem to Form Four what he had given to us at Lower Six only a year earlier.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>So I went to the board and solved the equation, explaining every step. Then just as I arrived at the answer, someone shouted from the back, “You’re wrong!” There was a smattering of snickering. “I checked the answer at the end of the book!” he heckled me.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>“In that case, the book is wrong!” I fired back. “Check with your teacher tomorrow.”<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The class was quiet; my casual and arrogant assertion had stunned them. From then on I had full control. I had established my alpha status, and so early too, in the only way that carried weight with that crowd, by demonstrating my presumed mathematical prowess.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I had an easier time with the Form Five Science class. I had known them earlier through our science club. The year before, they were in the inaugural Form Four Science class. After they had heard during the introduction night that my old school in Kuala Pilah had had its science class years earlier, they already had some respect for me and my old TMS. Their class monitor Ariffin Aton, also a prefect, commanded considerable respect among his classmates, and his favorable attitude towards me eased my introduction to them. That class also had the important Sixth Form Entrance and end-of-year national examinations coming up. As such they were more focused.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>The Form Four “D” Arts class gave me the most dyspepsia. To begin with, the students were so much bigger, older-looking, and very intimidating. Perhaps they were those war-time babies whose parents had forgotten their actual birth dates when they had to register their births after the war, hence their “precocious” physical developments. Their favorite trick, so I was told by my fellow Prep School prefect Hadi, was to have the meekest boy approach the new prefect at that first session for permission for a bathroom break. The prefect, sensing an easy target, would fall for the trap of denying the request so as to establish that all-important first impression of “personal authority.” At that point the boy would then wet his pants, by breaking a water balloon in his pocket or perhaps he was truly peeing. Either way, the class would have roared into laughter and the prefect lost any hope of control.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sure enough the class pulled that same stunt the moment I sat down. However, instead of denying the request I let him go. The poor befuddled fellow was lost, his script no longer operative, but he recovered and took his break. Soon there was a line-up and I had an impending crowd-control crisis.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I stood up and with a calm, firm voice said, “Look, I really couldn’t care less whether you study or not, but I have to. I have tests to prepare for and lab reports to write.” I paused and waited till they all returned to their seats before continuing. “You all can go to the bathroom, but on one condition. One at a time! As soon as that first boy returns, the next in line can go.”<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Having set the ground rules so clearly, I then sat down and focused on my own work. That entire evening there were perhaps at most four boys leaving for their lavatory break. I had given them freely what they thought was a prized commodity, and suddenly it was no longer a bone of contention.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>I felt like a satisfied praying mantis; all I did was be myself, remained quiet, and they all fell right into my trap. I would not say that I did not have further problems but my time with them became much more tolerable most of the time and even enjoyable some of the time.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>New prefects were on probation for the first term. I was never told what the conditions were to be confirmed. Absent such guidelines, the void was filled with traditions and assumptions. One was that new prefects must meet their quota of students sent to detention class. I had difficulty with that. First, being at prep school I would be dealing with new young pupils who were unlikely to pose disciplinary problems. Second, I did not feel right snooping around just to meet my quota. If they were flagrantly abusing the rules, then I would take the necessary action, and that would not always mean detention. So I ignored the presumed quota. Besides, that presumed quota made new prefects the target for ridicule and taunting from the other students.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>Whatever it was, whether the students were afraid to break the rules in my presence or I had been derelict in my duties, I did not send anyone for detention. That surely was a record at Malay College. I did issue a few warnings. At the last assembly of the first term, all new prefects were confirmed. I could now don my school tie and special maroon blazer; it fitted me perfectly, in style and color.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span>That trademark tie and maroon blazer aside, I was honored to have been made prefect. It was humbling to be in a group that included some of the most illustrious names in the country. On a more pragmatic level, I had the luxury of a private room so I could study.<span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Next: Excerpt # 93: <span class="gmail-Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Annual Speech Day And Sports Meet</span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-14732070096716024372023-08-18T11:02:00.001+08:002023-08-18T11:02:05.071+08:00Grren Wave Floundering On Its Own Shallowness<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Green Wave Floundering On Its Own Shallowness</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Many fear that the recent green wave in the state elections of Kedah, Kelantan, and Terengganu portends an ominous future for Malaysia. This sentiment, harbored by non-Malays but also shared by many Malays, is misplaced. The recent Islamists’ victory was but a rare rogue political wave that had crashed on a shallow beach. Spectacular to behold maybe, more so to landlubbers. As for lasting impact, none except for some superficial changes in sand dune contours.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> I have yet to see in the modern world any successful Islamic nation. Muslims’ hopes soared with the Islamic Revolution in Iran. Today the Ayatollah drove more Muslims out of our faith than even Stalin could ever hope. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Those three states are marginal in all respects – population wise, the quality of their people as measured by their health, education, and other measures, as well as economic output and other meaningful indicators. Kelantan leads only in the number of pornographic downloads, child and spousal abuses, sexually transmitted diseases, and divorce rates. Although overwhelmingly Malays, only one in six Malays reside in those three states, and their exodus continues. Those three states contribute less than seven percent to the national economy. If you further consider, the bulk of that are from their small non-Malay population, the five million or so Malays in those three states combined economic contributions to the national output are in the low single digit, percentage wise. Their <i>tin kosong</i> loudness notwithstanding, their economic contributions and thus political impact on Malaysia are also minimal despite observers making a big fuss about them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> However, it would be a great tragedy not only to them but more so the nation if we were to ignore their grouses and frustrations. I share their lament and frustration in being bypassed by the economic development of the country. Theirs are justified, more so as those issues have long been ignored or if attended to, not very effectively. Like Malays elsewhere in the country, they see themselves increasingly marginalized. Their blaming <i>pendatangs</i> generally and the predominantly Chinese Democratic Action Party in particular reflects their helplessness and impotence. More satisfying emotionally, as well as buttressing one’s nationalist credentials, to do so rather than blaming our own corrupt incompetent leaders. These leaders continually promise heaven in the Hereafter for their followers. Meanwhile their followers endure Hell right here on earth. This frustration of the natives and envy of others, more so <i>pendatangs</i>, are not unique unto Malays. To wit, poor whites in rural America; hence Trump’s continued popularity.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> While I share the lament and frustrations of these poor Malays, I disagree profoundly with their and their leaders’ diagnoses of the issues, and even more with their remedies. The problem is not with the “others,” rather our leaders. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> My solution would be two-prong: bring economic development and improve the current abysmal education. The first is easier. Consider Kedah’s proposal for an international airport. At least the Chief Minister is thinking in the right direction. However with Penang Airport nearby and with two bridges across the strait, that is less urgent and would not be the best way to spend precious funds. How about a mega agricultural co-operative comparable to Canada’s Alberta Wheat Pool to develop those rice farmers? Make Kedah an efficient productive rice bowl able to export rice.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> An international airport at Kuala Terengganu would make far greater sense. That would boost tourism to the region. With rich Chinese tourists and others flooding in, those natives would have a different view of foreigners. Now that China is FELDA’s greatest customer, those Malay settlers have a decidedly different view of that country and in tandem, its people. A few years ago the Monsoon Cup was the sailing world’s celebrated event. Now that event is long gone. The East Coast could easily compete for international tourists with Bali, Phuket, and the Maldives.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Along the same line I would have the headquarters of many federal agencies moved to the area. Learn from the British. They had a teachers college in Tanjung Malim, Malay College in Kuala Kangsar, Forestry Research Center in Kepong. Why not move Petronas headquarters to Kuala Terengganu, nearer to the oil fields?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> As for improving education, the system is now so rotten that it would be easy to make spectacular progress and in the process endear yourself to the people. Start with improving the physical facilities as well as providing highspeed Internet, and giving secondary school students laptops. Money would be more productively spent there than subsidizing Hajj and <i>umrah</i> or building crystal mosques. Revamp the curriculum to have science, mathematics, Malay, and English taught daily. As there are only so many hours in the school day, that would mean a corresponding decrease in hours devoted to Islamic Studies. There the emphasis should be more on the humanistic values of our faith, less over the rituals. I find it downright idiotic to teach students funeral ablution rites. By all means memorize the Qur’an, but that should be an after-school activity, done in the afternoon as with music, arts and crafts.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Build a magnet school in every district, with 80 percent of the students drawn locally. Recruit capable foreign teachers, not the dozen or so through the Fullbright Program but hundreds as they do in Japan. I was visiting Terengganu back in the 1980s and saw a beautiful campus for a Petronas International School. It was later abandoned as few expatriates wanted to live there. Instead of letting local children use that facility, Petronas boarded it up, complete with laboratories, libraries, and luxurious teachers’ quarters.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> There are many lessons from the recent state elections. Fear of the Islamists taking over Malaysia is not of them. <o:p></o:p></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-58750982761671651902023-08-14T10:34:00.002+08:002023-08-14T10:34:32.242+08:00Casr From The Herd Excerpt #91: A New Breed of Malay College Students<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 91: A New Breed of Malay College Students</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">As a prefect I was assigned to Prep School, a smaller two-storey complex at the opposite corner of the campus, far away from Big School, the main dormitory block. Prep school had its own dining facility. The approximately one hundred pupils who entered at Form One would spend their first year there, separated and protected from the rest of the school. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The other prefects there with me were Hadi Hashim, my classmate; Mohammad Omar, a year behind me; and Mat Yusof, two years behind. Except for Hadi, we were all rookie prefects. All of us except for Mat Yusof were in the science stream. Mat was a star soccer player, and like Hadi, hailed from Kelantan. Unlike Hadi who was an aristocrat (his father was then Kelantan’s State Secretary, the highest civil servant in the state), Mat was like me, from a kampung. He dawdled when he walked; hence his nickname, Mat Gajah (Mat The Elephant). He however assured me that his nickname arose because a part of his anatomy hung prominently, like an elephant’s trunk. The other prefect, Mohammad Omar, had an older brother who was at that time Selangor’s State Secretary. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The sentiment among the prefects generally was that being assigned to prep school was akin to being banished to Timbuktu. Perverse it may have seemed, that was the reason I welcomed it. I wanted to be as far away from the pernicious and regressive culture of Big School. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> My Idris House dorm was the smallest physically. It was so small that my cubicle was in the adjacent Ahmad House dorm. It did not take me long to appreciate the many unanticipated benefits of being at Prep School. The food was far tastier. When you have to cook for only a hundred instead of six hundred, the results showed. As the food was geared for growing eleven- and twelve-year-olds, there were extra supplements and special treats like Magnolia chocolate milkshake, my favorite. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Most of all I liked the early “lights out” at nine. At Big School it was ten for everyone except Sixth Formers; for them, an hour later. Thus here I had a long evening of uninterrupted study in the privacy of my cubicle. That was my most precious privilege. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> That year (1962) was the first time entry into the college at Form One was based strictly on merit, a significant milestone. There had been earlier and limited attempts, as with the college having its own admission examinations. That was not available widely. Besides, scores alone would not guarantee admission, as attested to by my brother Sharif’s earlier experience. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> By 1960 every pupil in the country had to sit for the national examination at the end of their sixth school year. The college thus had a nation-wide pool of applicants. The results showed. With the notable exception of two pupils (and both “stood out”), the rest were top scorers. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I enjoyed many impromptu discussions with these bright First Formers. They were assertive, passionate, and well informed. The debates were intellectually far more stimulating than the many I had in the Sixth Form dorm. These youngsters had not yet been corrupted by the college’s anti-intellectual culture. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> Once, I had an unusually vigorous discussion with them when Mat Gajah passed by. He shook his head and stomped away. Later he complained to me that those kids were rude, brash, and impertinent. They seemed fine to me. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> The two notable exceptions I mentioned earlier were the son of the King and that of the Member of Parliament (MP) representing my district. They might have been above average in their previous school, but among that select crowd they were simply out-classed. I tried to engage the two, but would get only duds for responses. I could excuse the prince; after all Prince Charles did not get into Cambridge based on his A-level scores or Jack Kennedy into Harvard his SAT scores. My MP’s son however, confounded me. Malaysia of the 1960s was not yet blighted with corruption, cronyism, or nepotism. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"> I later discovered that all save those two had perfect scores in their Year-Six Examination. I did not need to know that; their performances spoke loud and clear. I felt sorry for the pair; they were out of their league, two sluggish minnows trailing the main school. The subsequent career trajectories of the others bore out my early observations. They included a future first Malaysian chief executive of a major multinational corporation (Megat Zaharuddin, Shell Oil Malaysia), a noted cell biologist (Noor Embi), immunologist (Ghazzali Ismail), engineering PhD (Ahmad Ibrahim), the highly respected jurist and fierce defender of judicial independence (Hishamuddin Yunos), two medical school deans (Tahir Azhar and Saidi Hashim), and countless other medical specialists as well as PhDs in the sciences. Quite a sparkling collection!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Excerpt # 92: Duties of a Prefect<o:p></o:p></span></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-18175137581886309762023-08-13T10:57:00.003+08:002023-08-13T10:57:28.193+08:00Back To The Status Quo - Only More Dangerous<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;">Back To The Status Quo – Only More Dangerous</b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><b>M. Bakri Musa</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">August 13, 2023</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Yesterday’s (August 12, 2023) six state elections confirmed what had been suspected and feared all along. That is, Malays are now deeply and dangerously polarized. This was gleaned earlier from reviewing last November 2022 15<sup>th</sup> General Election. While the just-completed elections did not change any state government, with last November’s election Pakatan Harapan’s victory in May 2018 was repeated. However, that was prematurely aborted by the conniving Mahathir Mohamad. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Then the young inexperienced Pakatan leaders had a misplaced and unwarranted trust in the old man. They naively believed his claim that he was instrumental in toppling Najib Razak. They forgot that it was Mahathir who was responsible for Najib’s fast rise in politics in the first place. As could be anticipated, the ever-scheming Mahathir, together with his backdoor or backside accomplices Muhyiddin Yassin and Azmin Ali, ended Pakatan’s short-lived government. The pair is rightly cursed as <i>pengkhianat negara</i> (national traitors). I would add that description to Mahathir.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> These last six state elections also revealed a hitherto ignored but disturbing development – the rise of the Islamists and <i>Ketuanan Melayu</i> nationalists (Malay supremacists). If Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, a leader with unchallenged Islamic and nationalist credentials, could not make any inroads against them despite his recent vigorous and untiring campaign, then no one could.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> As such it is time for him and others who share his vision of a peaceful, prosperous, and inclusive Malaysia to change tack, and do so dramatically, radically, and in no uncertain terms. The threat posed by these Islamists and nationalists is more ominous than that by the communists after the war.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> In my book <i>Towards A Competitive Malaysia</i> (2007) I wrote that Malaysia remained unique for having defeated the communists, more so as she did it without any foreign military aid. Meanwhile in nearby South Vietnam, the Americans with their greatest economy, mightiest military, and their ‘best and brightest’ could not prevail against the pajama-clad Viet Cong.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> While McNamara was consumed with his infamous “body counts,” the Malaysian effort, led by the brilliant strategist Major-General Mahmud Sulaiman, opted for the very opposite tactic. He gave these communist guerillas every chance to surrender and escape from being killed. He saw immense propaganda value in having them alive, repentant, and leading productive lives. He analogized the war against the terrorists to exterminating rats. Killing and poisoning them would not work as those rodents could multiply faster. Besides, those poisons could backfire on the innocent. Instead, Mahmud addressed the root causes of communism – eliminating poverty, better education, and most of all assuring and promising them a peaceful productive life out of the fetid Malaysian jungle.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Prime Minister Anwar must adopt a similar counterintuitive strategy. Strip these disruptive and destructive Islamists and nationalists of the self-styled characterizations as defenders of Islam and <i>pejuang bangsa</i> (champions of the race). Expose their vacuity and lack of constructive ideas. Islam needs no defenders, least of all from these scoundrels.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar had correctly begun by arresting corrupt leaders. Go further and much more aggressively. Recruit accomplished foreign prosecutors and investigators. Then, and most of all address the grouses of these latter-day <i>pejuang bangsa dan agama</i>, in particular their plaintive cry on their current pathetic state that mocks their claim of Malaysia being ‘<i>Tanah Air ku</i>.’ I agree with their lament but alas disagree profoundly as to the needed remedies.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> With the Islamists, Anwar should distance himself from the likes of the Indonesian Abdul Somad as well as the less virulent but no less destructive local variants found at such places as ISTAC and local public campuses. Instead, invite the likes of the Harvard-trained Ulil Abdulla and the New York-based Syamsul Ali. Singapore wisely banned this Somad charlatan from entering the Republic. Likewise with those Malay intellectuals in Majlis Professor Negara; instead invite successful Malay entrepreneurs, professionals, and scientists to Sri Perdana. That would at least inspire the young. My late father had an apt expression on our current practice of honoring the corrupt and the losers: <i>membajakan lallang</i> (fertilizing the weeds).</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> The greatest contributor to the lack of Malay competitiveness and thus our current blighted condition is, apart from corruption, the education system. Revamp the national curriculum to make all Malaysians fluently bilingual (Malay and English), literate in the sciences, and competent in mathematics. Get rid of JAKIM and other religious bodies. Use the funds saved to build libraries and laboratories in national schools and recruit well-trained teachers. Stop sending our students to mediocre foreign universities.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Anwar does not need to be reminded that in the 1986 national election, a few years after he joined UMNO, the Islamic Party won only one out of the 177 parliamentary seats. He did it then, and he could it do again, this time out of UMNO. That is, to beat the Islamists and Malay nationalists, Anwar’s top priority must be to make Malays competitive so we could be respected in <i>Tanah Air Ku</i>, and to be worthy of Hang Tuah’s immortal exhortation: <i>Takkan Melayu Hilang Di Dunia</i>! (We will never be lost in this world!)</p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544831218372890796.post-87105777730399894272023-08-09T09:04:00.003+08:002023-08-09T09:04:38.014+08:00On Rating Khutba<p> <b style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;">On Rating <i>Khutbas</i></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">M. Bakri Musa<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">August 8, 2023<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">In his recent Friday (August 4, 2023) <i>khutba</i> (sermon) in Morgan Hill, California, our Imam Ilyas Anwar commented on the current and fast-spreading practice of rating <i>khutbas</i>. We are all familiar with the rating of lectures and professors, now the norm on American campuses, with the results scrutinized not just by would-be students but more importantly, faculty review committees.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> In my profession such evaluations are standard practice. To secure one’s Continuing Medical Education (CME) certificates one has to complete those evaluations. Among the questions asked are whether the speaker had fully disclosed all possible conflicts of interests (monetary as well as professional, as being paid for or employed by a drug company), and how effective was the presentation, and the extent that it would improve one’s current practice and understanding of the subject matter. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> It would be illuminating if we were to apply this practice to Malaysian ulama and religious scholars. Imagine if they were to begin thus: “<i>Assalamualliakum</i>! I am Hadi Awang, leader of the opposition Islamic Party PAS and recipient of funds from 1MDB!” Or, “I am Mufti Albakri and I am paid fulltime by the Muhyiddin Administration.” Yet another, “I am Dr. Abu Bakar and I am well compensated by Citibank to certify its banking products as Islamic and meeting <i>maqasid syariah</i>.” That would certainly help their listeners’ clarify the speakers’ perspectives and then judge their presentations accordingly.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> As for rating <i>khutbas</i>, Imam Ilyas had this to say. The <i>khutba</i> is an integral part of the Friday congregational <i>zuhur</i> (noon) prayer. The regular <i>zuhur</i> prayer has four <i>raka’at </i>(or units) but the Friday congregational prayer is truncated to only two, with the <i>khutba</i> given before the prayer proper being in lieu of the first two <i>raka’ats</i>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Thus the khutba being part of the prayer, the essence then becomes how does one evaluate the impact or value of a prayer? With lectures, listeners’ evaluations are appropriate, and those valuations could be useful to potential advertisers and sponsors. Or in the case with Malaysian Youtube ulama and lecturers (as well as Christian television evangelists), donations from their listeners.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Evaluating a sermon could be seen as that of a prayer, with the focus shifting to the listener or “prayee,” the one performing the prayer. As with my CME courses, the pertinent question should be how does the sermon impact us as listeners, and how would we then be changed in our approach to solving our problems of daily living or dealing with our fellow human beings.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Thus when the <i>khatib</i> quotes a particular Qur’anic <i>ayat</i>, that should prompt us to ponder such questions as when, where, and under what circumstances was it revealed. The ensuing enquiry should also lead us to extrapolate the <i>ayat’s</i> relevance to our current challenges and everyday lives. In what ways are our current conditions similar to those existing during the Prophet’s time and in what way are they different? If the former, then the <i>ayat</i> could be directly applicable. If not, then we would have to use our <i>akal </i>and treat that <i>ayat</i>as being only metaphorical or illustrative, and then expend our intellectual efforts to use the <i>ayat</i> only as the basis (<i>qiyas</i>) and not precedential. Ancient scholars did precisely that; blind imitators or literal followers they were not. Hence their often vigorous differences in views as illustrated by Imam Al Ghazzali’s excoriating criticisms of Ibn Sina.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Likewise when an <i>ahadith </i>is quoted; we should reflect on the comparable situation today where that <i>ahadith</i> would be most appropriate. If none and instead we are facing a very different challenge unique to our time or circumstance, then ponder what our wise Prophet, <i>s.a.w</i>., would have counselled his followers in such comparable situations, akin to the Christians’ asking “What would Jesus do or say today?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Far too often when our ulama quote a hadith, they are consumed with displaying their flawless memories, erudite Arabic, and rhetorical flourishes. Why not just tell us the approximate translations, and thus meanings of those hadith using contemporary language and idiom? These ulama also waste precious listeners’ time on such futile discussions as to the “sahihness” (authenticity) of the hadith including a long list of their supposed narrators as if what the Prophet, <i>s.a.w</i>., uttered over a millennium and half ago could be determined with certainty today. Quit quibbling about that; focus on the purported purpose and needed lessons that could be derived from those hadith. Grasp the essence.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> The <i>khutba</i> should be the beginning or stimulus for one’s subsequent journey of enquiry. Treated as such we would less likely to fall asleep during the sermon and apt to pay more attention as well as stimulate us to pursue the topic further.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Consider the so-called “Sword Verse” (9:5) revealed soon after the Prophet’s migration to Medinah and was striving to build the first Muslim community in an already well-established plural one that remained hostile and threatening to him and the new faith, “. . . [T]hen fight the pagans wherever ye find them, and seize and beleaguer them . . . .” Compare that <i>ayat</i> to the earlier Meccan one, 2:256: “Let there be no compulsion in religion.” Such contrast if not outright contradiction! The former commands us not to turn the other cheek when someone threatens to decapitate you; the latter, to be more tolerant and inclusive.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> Ancient scholars used the concept of abrogation to reconcile such differences, as with later Medinah verses “abrogating” earlier Meccan ones. Though well-established and accepted, such an approach would not comport with our concept of Allah as All-Knowing and All-Perfect. Allah does not need any subsequent “editing” of His revelations!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> More fruitful would be to ponder why Allah would reveal such seemingly contradictory messages. Since Allah is All-Wise and All-Perfect, such discrepancies must be apparent, not real. It is for us to use our <i>akal</i>(intellect and power of reasoning) endowed by Him to us to discern those differences. That would be much more fruitful than merely and mindlessly reciting an <i>ayat</i> or hadith. Granted, when a Qur’anic verse is recited beautifully with faithful rendition of its exquisite <i>tajweed</i>, that can bring tears of joy and exaltation to believers, akin to a well-executed aria to opera goers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"> By all means rate a sermon but do so on its impact on us. It should lead us to better ourselves, for that indeed is Allah’s command.<o:p></o:p></p>M. Bakri Musahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11242104676548688866noreply@blogger.com0