Four months ago, on my 64th birthday, a friend suggested that I should start a Blog and write about my life, from childhood till now. I found that suggestion appealing as I have always wanted to share my experience with, and tell my stories to those whom would care to listen. My friend even helped to set up my Blog “Perjalanan Ku”. Since then I have received calls from friends asking when they could expect to read my first posting. Ya lah dah lebih empat bulan satu artikal pun takde, macam mana ni? Hangat-hangat taik ayam aje, said another.
I was actually undecided about my first article. Finally I decided to write about my family background, so that readers will be able to know me first hand, from my childhood till now before they share my other stories. The following is the first instalment about my family background.
I was born at 12.35 pm , Friday 18th October 1946 in the “rumah tengah” of our ancestral home at 19 Jalan Dato’ Dalam, Johor Bahru. I was given the name “Arphan” by my Grandfather Kapten Wan Ngah bin Panglima Wan Abdul Rahman who was a retired Officer with the Johor Military Force (Timbalan Setia Negeri). At home and among relatives, however, I am known as Abdul Rahman or simply Aman. I was told that the name “Arphan” was of Farsi origin, and it means “Arif” in Arabic or “Yang bijaksana” in Malay. I hope I have lived up to that name. I have always been proud of that name as until quite lately I have always believed that I was the only “Arphan” in this country. Of course, you will find many Arpans or Arfans, but I have not found or heard of another Arphan. The exception was the name “Omar Arphan” which was given by one of my former office-mates and close friends, the late Omar Mahdum to his first Grandson. I was honoured when he called me and asked my “permission” to use the name “Arphan”. That boy must be about 10 years old now.
I am the second of the four boys born to the couple Ahmad Abdul Rahman and Wan Tom Wan Ngah. All four boys were born in the same rumah tengah of the ancestral home, the scene of many births later when my cousin Neng (Abang) took over and lived in that house after we moved to a nearby house. Before the first boy Yahya (Long) was born in December 1944, my parents adopted a baby girl, Zaleha. It was nothing unusual in my Mother’s family for the daughters to adopt a girl before or shortly after marriage. It was sort of training to bring up their own off-springs later. Ther
e were three such adoptions in my Mother’s family. Zaleha has since passed away. She succumbed to breast cancer at the age of 60. Yahya runs his own Motivation and Training Consultancy firm based in Johor Bahru. The third in the family is Idris (Weis) who is a retired Police Officer and the youngest, Mohd Yusof (Roem) is presently the Director General of Balai Seni Lukis Negara. He joined the Balai middle of last year after his retirement from the Foreign Service. In 1965 my parents adopted another girl, Anita (Ti) who presently resides in Shah Alam with her family.
e were three such adoptions in my Mother’s family. Zaleha has since passed away. She succumbed to breast cancer at the age of 60. Yahya runs his own Motivation and Training Consultancy firm based in Johor Bahru. The third in the family is Idris (Weis) who is a retired Police Officer and the youngest, Mohd Yusof (Roem) is presently the Director General of Balai Seni Lukis Negara. He joined the Balai middle of last year after his retirement from the Foreign Service. In 1965 my parents adopted another girl, Anita (Ti) who presently resides in Shah Alam with her family.
Standing - Yahya, Idris, Mohd Yusof and Arphan.
Seated – Zaleha, Dad, Mum and Ti
Both my parents have passed away. My father passed away in 1997 at the age of 77. Since his death my Mother never left the house in Johor Bahru, not even to visit my Dad’s grave. She passed away in 2006 at the age of 86. My Allah SWT bless their souls always and put them in the place reserved for those yang beriman dan bertakwa kepadaNya. Till about four years ago, the ancestral home still stood proudly among other dilapidated homes amidst modern development in that area. Our family, who owns that house and six other houses in that area was forced by the local authority to demolish them as that area has been rezoned for light commercial development. The only remaining structure there is a Surau which was bequeathed by my Grandfather to the Muslim Community of that area. That Surau will be moved to a new site when redevelopment takes place, which hopefully is soon. Currently the land measuring almost one acre is being used as a public parking lot, operated by the family.
I can still remember clearly every nook and corner of that house as I lived in that house for 4 years before my father built another house just next to it. The family lived in that new house for about seven years before moving to a government quarter in Nong Chik. Even after we moved to Nong Chik I spent a lot of time, usually week-ends in that ancestral house until I left Malaysia for my first overseas posting in January 1969. Despite the size of that house it had only 3 bedrooms. The master bedroom in the front portion of the house and next to the rumah tengah was occupied by my Auntie Wan Wok, who also happened to be my father’s step-mother. My parents occupied the smaller bedroom, next to another smaller room which was squeezed between my parents’ room and the rumah tengah. The rumah tengah occupied a large portion of the upper split-level of the house. It was here where most of the activities took place – receiving and entertaining visitors, make-shift sleeping quarters for other members of the family and visiting relatives. Most significantly, one corner of that rumah tengah was used as the delivery room – “tempat bersalin” of not less than 8 babies, the four of us, and later, another four from my cousin Abang. I can still remember how that special corner was turned into this special place by hanging and stringing pieces of kain batik to make a make-shift room.
Another significant point I wish to highlight here is that all four of us were delivered by the Kampung’s Mak Bidan, Mak Ara. Mak Ara was the only Mak Bidan in the whole Kampung Air Molek and I am sure all the babies born in that kampong were delivered by her. Mak Ara was an elegant lady, slightly tall and heavy built for a lady, with dark complexion and beautiful and shining black hair she rolled and tucked into a beautiful siput behind her head. The thing that I remember most about her was her prominent oval face that showed a lot of determination and character, her full set of white teeth, which I later found out was a set of dentures, and that she always applied the “celak Mekah” around the lower eye-lids. To me it was such a beauty to see her with the “celak”. I must admit that years later, in my teens I used to apply the same “Celak Mekah” around my lower eye-lid and the practice stopped when I left Malaysia for Germany in 1969. By the way I still have the full set of cepu celak which used to belong to my late Mum.
My family lived in Air Molek until 1957 when we moved to a government quarter in Lorong Tiga, Nong Chik. The family had to move because the boys were growing up, and it was getting more crowded in the small house, and also because my sister Zaleha was getting married. Even after we moved to Nong Chik I always had a strong attachment to Air Molek and I kept coming back to the old house every now and then. Air Molek, or specifically house No 19 Jalan Dato’ Dalam has always been and will remain my root – lots of fond memories which I would like to share with you. All this later in my next posting.In my next posting I will write more about my ancestors. I assure you it will make interesting reading. Till then cheers and Go
