Ayah Ngah (left) with my father on Eid in 2007.
Very few deaths have brought me to tears. I usually tell myself that I reserve that for people I hold dearest to my heart. At the same time, I've been holding this reservation to cry over deaths as I keep telling myself that to die is to undergo a transition in existence and not to be treated as a punishment.
My dear uncle's death, however, was surprisingly difficult for me to hold back my tears. He was my father's only brother and throughout his life, had been such a kind soul to me. He was the only Ayah Ngah (pet name for Middle Uncle) to me. When I first laid my eyes on him when I came home from England as a child, the first thing I remarked (which everyone seemed to remember) was that I had 2 daddies because he looked very much like my own father. He was always smiling, always in good spirit and he held a pleasant chuckle if he found anything to be funny. I always thought of him as a cat because of the cheshire cat look that he wore over his moustache when he smiled.
And so someone has to tell the world of this man whom I seldom dropped by to visit in recent years before his death but whom I had never forgotten the good deeds of. Ayah Ngah was born as Jamaludin on 15 December 1941. The First World War had started by then and I can only imagine the difficulties of my grandparents having to bring up a child during those hard times. Despite the chaotic background that he had been brought up in, Ayah Ngah managed to go to school. He first went to Sekolah Melayu Bandar Temerloh, then to Sekolah Melayu Kampung Bintang and because he was a good student, went to the Sekolah Darjah Khas Bandar Temerloh. Then it was time to go to Secondary School and the teacher announced that whoever wanted to continue their secondary education would have to have a birth certificate showing that they were only 12/13 years old. By that time, Ayah Ngah was already 14/15 and because he was so intent on continuing his secondary education, Ayah Ngah spoke to a younger friend by the name of Osman and knowing that Osman was not too keen to continue his studies, managed to coax Osman to lend him his birth certificate. With this borrowed certificate, Ayah Ngah became Osman bin Md Said and wallah, was allowed to further his secondary education. This led him to Sekolah Tuanku Abdul Rahman in Ipoh, a well-known secondary boarding school for boys.
When he had finished secondary school, Ayah Ngah immediately signed up for a government post and was given the position of Pegawai Pertanian Rendah in Balok, Kuantan, Pahang. By some divine intervention, Ayah Ngah later became a teacher without having to go to Teaching College as the country was short of teachers and anyone who had a decent secondary education was accepted in into the teaching profession. He never looked back and Ayah Ngah, well known by his students as Cikgu Osman, finally retired as the Headmaster of Sekolah Kebangsaan Tanjung Lalang, Temerloh, Pahang in the year 2000.
I suppose during his first stint as a teacher that he met his wife, Jeriah, whom I call Mak Ngah and later came along all 6 children, 2 of whom are teachers too.
I used to think of Ayah Ngah as the family food aficionado. Each time he came back from the market, he brought back all sorts of food and his description of what he just had for his previous meal always struck me as delicious. I suppose that made me really sorry for him that during the last few months preceding his death, Ayah Ngah was unable to eat all the food that he loved and would throw up almost everything that entered his system.
I didn't really visit Ayah Ngah very often after I came back from completing my degree in England. Although I always wished that I was closer to him when I had later come back to live in Temerloh , I never really had the chance to regain the close ties that we had before. He was getting older and I was getting busier. When he landed in the emergency ward one day 3 years ago, he thought he was going to die then and sobbed the moment he saw me walk to his bed. During his last days, I visited him a bit more often but I couldn't really stand next to him during the last false death alarm we had almost a month before he departed. Ayah Ngah was in pain, could not breath without aid and looked so weak.
Before his death, Ayah Ngah told me to look into preparing new tomb stones for my grandparents and great grandparents. He passed away before I could carry out these instructions. I know that I will have to complete this task very soon.
For my uncle, I pray that God grants him a place in Heaven, for to Him, Ayah Ngah has returned. Amin.
