Sebelum saya terlupa. Dikhabarkan melalui Business FM di 89.9 mhz, bahawa pertumbuhan ekonomi negara menguncup daripada 4.8% pada suku akhir tahun 2010 kepada 4.2 pada suku tahun pertama 2011. Pelaburan asing yang masuk pula, surut sebanyak lebihkurang 4% daripada 10% pada suku akhir tahun 2010 kepada 6% untuk suku pertama tahun 2011. Itu dengan Program Transformasi Ekonomi yang dicanangkan dan digembar-gemborkan oleh Najib. Apa dah jadi beb!!!!

Nope, saya enggan komen mengenai the state of affairs negara Malaysia kita yang 1 ini kerana di Malaysia everything remains status quo year after year. The same bullshit albeit by different bulls and bitches, the same hogwash by different Porky Pigs, maybe and of course the same rehashed propaganda.

For now, I am going to talk about sex. Those of you who are Mr & Mrs Prim, Proper & Prudish, stop reading right now and go hide behind some veneer of innocence, chastity and purity, somewhere.

Maybe a bit late by today’s standards but I was introduced to what a man can do to a woman’s private body parts and vice versa, when I was in primary six. We do have extra classes back then on some Saturdays, the normal school off day. I was staying in Clementi Estate, not a rubber estate mine you, but a British Army barracks for their soldiers in Air Rajah Road, Singapore. Clementi Primary School where I was schooling was at 7^th mile, Pasir Panjang Road, a distance of about 5 km away. So that we (me and my buddies) could have some fun while going to school like sneaking into some bushes to catch spiders or kacau some dogs along the way, most of the times, we walked to school. Part of the route we take, takes us along the beach. It was during one of this walks that we came across our first collections of pornographic pictures. I

t was in black and white, the actor and actress are chinese looking and the couple are neither hunky or sexy in any way. They have a sullen, I mean business sort of look which in no way will sexcite you watching it. We had fun looking at it behind the school tuckshop during class break. But that’s that. We never attempted to recreate the scenes depicted in the photos with our female classmates nor do we give it any further thought.

I know I am old when social and moral values that are dear to me are not applicable today.

Choo Cheng Chai, Quek Poh Lim, Quah Si Lin and Tee Kam Choy, Ibrahim and Zaiton are the only friends that I can remember now from my primary school days. Can’t remember much of my malay friends from back then. I remember these guys and girl because they are my rambling and camping kakis every other Saturdays. With a backpack stuffed with bottled water, some buns or currypuffs and a hiking stick in our hand, we would assemble at the Kg.Tullock area by 8 am in the morning and then proceed on foot along the undulating terrain to Fort Canning and back which I believe to be more than 10 miles away.

When we decide to go camping, we don’t pitched our tents at school playgrounds like what Lord Baden Powell’s scouts and girl guides of today are doing. We take a 30 cent sampan ride from Keppel Harbour to Pulau Belakang Mati (now Sentosa Island) which at that time is home to a few small malay fishing villages and set up camp there, far away from the fishing villages. Mind you, we were only around 12 years old then. What do 12 year old kids do now a days. Lepak kat shopping complex dan main computer games. To me today’s kids are kedi even the mat rempits.

What has hiking and camping got to do with sex and the changing moral and social values? When we go hiking or camping, the boys and girls spend hours together in each other’s company for hours or days on end without any adult supervision. Yet we still maintain our decorum and our respect for each other. Of course there is always horsing around but that is all done in perfect innocence. Today, kids 12 years old are bonking each other. If you don’t believe that is the age the boys and the girls are having sex today, then you must be living under the coconut shell or a frog in a pond, somewhere in Timbuktu.

In the sixties, kids are safe around adults. On seeing 12 year olds like my friends and I hiking or camping, they would asked us where we are from, where we are going to or how long we would be camping and would never fail to advise us to be careful. Today, adults kidnaps 4 year old kids, murder and stuff them in travelling bags. In the old days, adult would only screw adults. Today, adults rapes 2 year old babies.

What is happening to us and what can we do about it? As my former director of the CCID (Commercial Crime Investigation Department) used to say, “Human values are changing, we have got to adapt to it”. The question is, Can I do that?

Until the next installment of life in the sixties, sayonara from Uncle B, who has always believed that it is always better to speak out your mind than talk behind somebody's back.

Byeee!!!

TAK TAHU MAKA TAK KENAL, DAH KENAL NAK EKSENLAH PULAK

ROOTS, sebuah buku yang telah dijadikan satu siri TV yang popular satu masa dahulu, menceritakan perjalanan penulisnya, Alex Haley, seorang African American atau dalam bahasa kasarnya Negro, mencari dan mengenali keturunan dan asal usulnya. Khabarnya setelah mengenali siapa dia, Arthur Haley dan mereka yang sekaum dengannya di US telah menjumpai kembali harga diri mereka, tidak lagi menikus dan telah berani berjalan sama tinggi dan duduk sama rendah dengan kaum kulit putih.

Semasa kecil dahulu, setiap kali balik kampung di Segamat, Johor (time tu duduk di Singapura), ada juga terdengar yang kononnya arwah datuk saya sebelah emak ada menerima pencen kerabat (royalty pension), abang datuk saya pernah ke istana Johor untuk mendapatkan bantuan memperbaiki rumah dan apabila datuk dan pakcik makcik saya berkumpul, pelik juga mendengar mereka menggunakan bahasa, yang saya diberitahu, adalah bahasa golongan istana. Saya juga ingat pernah bermain-main dengan pending, tepak sirih dan barangan-barangan lain yang ketika itu tidak saya ketahui hanya digunakan oleh golongan bangsawan. Saya tak ambil pusing hal-hal keturunan saya ini kerana payah nak percaya yang keluarga tak kaya seperti kami berasal dari golongan istana. Time tu sukar untuk saya yakini yang kami adik beradik berdarah raja dan berhak di panggil Engku. Yang kami yakin, abah berketurunan bugis.

Sekitar tahun 2008, saya agak bengang apabila mengetahui daripada adik dan ibu di kampong, ad beberapa orang termasuk khabarnya seorang pensyarah dari UITM Segamat, yang jadi busy body, bertanya itu dan ini tentang keluarga kami, kononnya untuk mengesahkan yang kami ini cucu cicit piut miut Sultan. Oleh kerana ketika itu saya bertugas di Jabatan Siasatan Jenayah Komersil, dalam kepala otak saya tak ada lain. Ini pasti kumpulan penipu.

Pendek cerita, lebihkurang 2 minggu selepas Aidil Fitri 2009, seramai 2,500 orang telah berkumpul di Segamat, Johor sebagai Waris Temenggung Muar yang berhasrat untuk menubuhkan sebuah persatuan. Kalau Arthur Haley boleh tulis buku, kami nak berpersatuan. Bukan nak tuntut apa-apa tapi saje nak di recognise bahawa walaupun taraf pekerjaan rendah, kami bukan kucing kurap.

Fast forward kepada Mac 2011, Persatuan Waris Temenggung Muar telah didaftarkan. Mengikut pejabat pendaftaran Segamat, sebagai pewaris, kami layak di address sebagai Engku. Apa hal? Rupa-rupanya pada zaman dulu-dulu, Muar adalah sebuah daerah autonomous di bawah Kerajaan Negeri Johor, dan di perintah oleh seorang Temenggong yang berasal dari keluarga diraja Johor. Dek kerana kami ni waris Temenggong Muar, kiranya kami ni keturunan rajalah. Jeng Jeng Jeng. Nampaknya mulai dari tarikh blog atau posting ini dikeluarkan, tak bolehlah saya makan cendol bawah pokok, ketawa terbahak-bahak adalah dilarang melainkan gelak kecil 3 kali sahaja (ha!ha!ha!) i.e. ketawa raja-raja atau merapu–meraban tak tentu hala. Blue Blood lah konon.

Hingga jumpa lagi, sembah salam dari Uncle Engku B, yang dah mula nak belajar eksen dan tak akan menoleh kecuali dipanggil Engku, Engku Bob atau Uncle Engku sahaja.

Hek! alahai! takkan tak nak kawan pulak, kita joking serious aje pun, nak marah ke?

Byeeee!!

MADE IN SINGAPORE BORN IN MALAYA - PART I

I am going to take a rest from commenting about Malaysia’s state of governance. After all the country has got it’s 6th prime minister and a new cabinet line-up. With such distinguished leadership and a team of ministers of exemplary integrity, I failed to see why Malaysia cannot climb to heights of excellence and takes it’s place as one of the world’s most envied civil societies. Yelah! tu!!!!!! Since there is nothing to gripe about, my takes on politics, stops now.

By the way,would you care to know a little bit more about me?

I was born in Malaya but made in Singapore. Let me clear that puzzled look on your face. My dad was a soldier in the British Army based in Singapore in 1949. Whilst on leave in his home town of Segamat, Johor, dad met mum, falls in love and soon married her. After the marriage, dad brought mum to Singapore as he was based there and the next time mum went back to Segamat after that was to deliver her first born child (that’s me) on Malaysian soil. It is obvious therefore that dad and mum made love all these times until I was conceived while they were in Singapore and that was how I came to be made in Singapore. After mum’s confinement period, she was back in Singapore (of course I tagged along) and I ended being brought up and educated in Singapore.

Primary School Years
I began my education at the Clementi Primary School, 7th milestone Pasir Panjang Road and was there from 1960 to 1961 (primary 1 to 6). On passing the primary 6 secondary school entrance examination with flying colors, I then continued my secondary education at the old, historical but prestigious and elite Raffles Institution in Bras Basah Road. Raffles Institution is not your run of the mill secondary school as no student can gain admittance to this school unless you have obtained all A in the primary school leaving examinations. Again unlike in Malaysia, where connections can open doors to anything, no amount of money, power and strings can ensure you of a place at Raffles Institution. To be studying there then, is a recognition of your academic potentials and capabilities.

I could not remember much of my early school years (1960-1965). I remember going to school and back by bus (it was The Singapore Traction Company, then) and receiving 40 cents as pocket money, out of which 20 cents is for bus fare.

A few events though, does stays in my mind. The first was went I found my first collection of pornographic photographs while walking along the Pasir Panjang Beach with a group of my friends one Saturday morning on the way to school for extra classes. We were in primary 6 at that time and was preparing for the secondary schools entrance examination. I remember vividly the group of us hiding behind the boys bathroom block scrutinizing the photos and how after that I begin to look at the women teachers with different eyes. That was the first time I knew what a naked woman looks like and what a man and a woman can do when both of them are naked together.

During those early years (primary 5-6) I was already a lover of nature and “rambling” then was my favourite way of spending the weekends when there is no extra classes. My rambling “kakis” that I still remember was Tee Kam Choy (a sweet chinese girl), Choo Cheng Chye and Goh Boon Eng. Our normal route was to traverse the hills starting from the Clementi Military Barracks where we (my parents, siblings and me) live, in Air Rajah Road, until about 4 hours later when we finally rests our feet at the peak of Faber Hill.

To you guys and girl where ever you are in Singapore, thank you for sharing those tiring but fun weekends with me on the hills of Singapore. For Tee Kam Choy, I wish I could hold your hands again (like we use to do as we rambled along) and talk about old times. Would your husband mind?

Just a P/S before I end up reminising about my primary school days. At the age of 12 (primary 6) I was champion of the Raden Mas District syair recitation competition and represented the district at the national level competitions. Translated into the Malaysian environment that was equivalent to representing one of the Malaysian states. And that was the first time in my life that I appear on national televison. The Singapore’s Minister for Social Welfare at that time, En. Othman Wok gave away the challenge trophy. I wonder what happened to En.Othman Wok and my trophy now. The syair that I was reading that night was the “Syair Siti Zubaidah”.

Hingga jumpa lagi, bye-bye dari Uncle B,yang rindu juga pada kawan-kawan di Singapura.

1 FEBRUARY 2009

Hari ini, Ahad 1 February 2009 jam 0550 pagi. Pada hari Ahad yang sama, jam 12:35 tengah hari, 56 tahun yang lalu, seorang bayi lelaki, anak pertama kepada Idris Bin Mohd Nor dan Wan Jwariah Bte Wan Mohd Amin Bin Wan Adnan Bin Wan Seman, telah dilahirkan ke dunia dan diberi nama Baharuddin. Itulah aku.

Bersyukur ke hadrat Allah swt, aku dapat menunaikan solat Isya' dalam keadaan yang sihat dan sempurna sifat setelah sekian lama hidup. Dan dengan izin Nya jua, umur bersara kuli kerajaan dilanjutkan sehingga 58 tahun. Jika tidak, hari ini adalah hari pertama aku sebagai seorang awam selepas 31 tahun 6 bulan memakai uniform biru PDRM.

Pada mulanya, sebagai kandongan blog aku yang pertama, sejak berumur 56 tahun, ingin ku catatkan suka duka kehidupan, kenangan indah dan kekesalan ku sepanjang 56 tahun. Maaf, aku terpaksa membatalkan niat tersebut.

Semalam telah berlalu, tiada apa yang dapat aku lakukan untuk mengubahnya. Esok akan menjelang, bukan kudrat ku meramal dan menentukan apa yang akan berlaku. Yang ada cuma sekarang, akan ku gunakan sebaik mungkin kerana itu sahaja yang ada pada ku.

Bagaimana perjalanan hidup ke seterusnya? Sama-samalah kita lihat.

Selamat Hari Jadi ke 56 Tahun Kepada Aku.

LIFE'S NOT FAIR

Note
I wrote this piece whilst I was serving in Angola, Africa for a UN Peacekeeping mission. It is a record of my broken dreams in education and my early days as a working man.

Broken Hopes Of Further Studies
In 1969 I sat for the Cambridge School Certificate “O” level examinations and obtain a result that would allow me to further my studies at the newly established National Junior College Of Singapore, yet another institution of higher learning that admits only the best of Singapore’s “O” level achievers. In fact I was offered a place there, did not asked for but was offered. Circumstances however were not behind me at this time.

My father retires from the British Army just as I sat for my “O” levels. Even though he continues working in a Japanese firm in Singapore, my mother, brothers, sisters and I were sent back to our home town in Segamat, Johor. In Segamat I tried to get myself enrolled for Lower Six studies at the Segamat English School and even tried to enrol at the then College Of Agriculture in Serdang, Selangor. I remember the evening after the maghrib prayers in our rented house in Jalan Muhammad, Segamat. Father simply told me that since he is now retired he cannot afford the money for my studies. I have got a qualification, he told me, use it to get yourself a job and help the family. I cried myself to sleep that night.

On hindsight I can’t blame my father for not sharing my ambition. With a family of 8 children to support it is certainly hard put for him to stretch his meagre army pension. I have to find a job. At least with the eldest son being self supporting he would have less 1 mouth to feed and I could help with the family income. That was how at the age of 16 plus, I came back to Singapore, this time as a working teenager.

A Coolie In Singapore
I did not plan to start work at such a young age but what else can I do. My dreams of further studies are gone and I have to support myself to avoid being a burden to my father. Finding a suitable job as a 16 years old was easy task. First, I am a no man’s land man. I am neither a Malaysian nor a Singaporean. Two, I am too young either to enter goverment service or to join the private sector. To join the working ranks of these two job sectors you have to be at least 18 years of age. That was how I get to become a coolie in Singapore.

My first job was at a construction site in Singapore. I remember the hot punishing days carrying bags of cement to be mixed and then trundling wheelbarrows of the concrete mixture to where it was needed at the construction site. I stayed at my auntie’s house in Singapore then and could not forget the days I have to stick medicinal plaster on my back to alleviate the back pains from the days hard labour. My next “menial appointment” before joining the Malaysian Army was at the Yoong Tai Leong aluminium factory in Jurong, punching rivets into the aluminium doors made at this factory and then with another co-worker delivering the finished product to the various buyer. I was having a nasi bungkus lunch at the factory compound when I saw the adverstisement for selection as army officers in the Malaysian Army, right there on the piece of newspaper wrapping my lunch. In all I spent about one year and a half as a coolie in Singapore, so if anyone out there have got the cheek to say that I have got it easy in life, I have one thing to say. Go jump into the nearest river.

In The Army
I joined the army as an 2nd lieutenant on 10th June 1971. Sorry, I won’t elaborate in detail about my short stint in the army. This was the worst episode of my entire life on this earth to date. I became proud and arrogant during this period of time, made a lot stupid mistakes, blunders and decisions which I am still paying for now. I left the army in April 1975 when my short service commission expires. I could have requested for an extension of my commission but did not do so on some idiotic idealistic views of my purpose in life as a soldier. I was asking myself, “As a soldier, for whom am I risking my life and limbs for, was it for the country, the common people or for the elite of Malaysian society?”

I knew that if the country falls into communist hands, the first to flee the country would be the the ruling and elite class. The ones to loose more if Malaysia falls into Chin Peng hands would be the the “Haves”. The “Have Nots” have nothing much to loose because they have nothing to begin with in the first place. Therefore according to my misplace idealism, as a soldier I am risking life and limbs not for the protection of the rakyat but to look after the safety, security and interest of the elite class. I do not want to spend the rest of my working life protecting the rich. So I left the army. With comparatively good pay while in the army I should have pursued my dream of obtaining my doctorate but that is not to be so.

If I am not mistaken Francis Bacon says “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupt absolutely”. How true. A 2nd lieutenant in the army might not be much but in the early 70’s it does carry some prestige and a little extra cash. At only 18 years of age and being address as “sir” by men much senior in age and being able to command them to do my bidding makes me forget who I am and what I want to be. I was corrupted by hard liquor (my favourite drink then was vodka lime), songs and a little bit of women on the side. Nights was spend at the night clubs, the frequent jaunts being the MayFlower Nightclub in Jalan Treacher, Bukit Bintang and the then Miramar Night Club. I was drunk almost every other night. To me that was life as should be lived by an army officer. Only too late I realised how wrong I was. After a series of setbacks which lasted almost 2 years and which I do not wish to relive or relate, I finally learned my lessons.

PDRM And Hopes Of Further Studies
On the 3rd of July 1977 I joined the Royal Malaysia Police as a probationary Inspector. In the early years of my service with the police I did try my hand at sitting for the HSC examination by studying part time at Yayasan Anda in Jalan Pantai. Academic studies at my age then does not seem to agree with me. I managed to obtained only I principle and 2 subsidiary levels passes. Studies stopped for a moment until early 1988 when after saving enough to finance my studies I enrolled for the Advance Diploma In Administrative Management at Stamford College, Petaling Jaya. Here is a course that allows me to make full use of my working experience and class room theories in order to pass my exams. I obtained my diploma in 1991 and soon after was accepted for a Masters In Systems Management at the Humberside University, United Kingdom. Again the stars does not shine on me. I made an application for the police force to finance my studies but was only offered a no pay leave for the duration of my studies. No financial support. Reason given was that scholarship for Masters is applicable only to division A officers (ASP and above) and at the time of applying I was only a division B officer (Chief Inspector). Once again my dream of studying and living overseas goes up in smoke.

After once too many defeat I decided to call it a day. Enough is enough. But that dream refuse to lie down. Every now and then it rears it’s head. Little did I realised that man proposes and God disposes. Malaysia was invited to sent military and police observers to serve in United Nations missions in various countries overseas. For me this is a golden opportunity to save some money for my studies and spend at least a year working overseas. But that is not the only reason why I volunteered for this mission for I have actually given up on my dreams. There are other factors that contribute to my decision. Most probably at the time of making the application I am depressed and unhappy with my working conditions. I am an Assistant Superintendent of Police, Anti Secret Societies, Vice and Gaming Branch of the Criminal Investigation Department, Royal Malaysia Police Federal HQ, Bukit Aman. The nine years I have put in this unit has been a frustrating and memorable one but never as depressing as when I decided to volunteer for this mission. There are times when I wonder if I am just rationalising my decision or was there really something to my grievances.

Depression At Work
I will not discuss the details that brought about the depressive atmosphere at work. Sufficient to say that you need to believe in the person you are working with and vice versa that person in turn must believe in you. More so in the police force where unlike accountancy the work is not cut and dry. Life is never a simple black and white. So does police work. You cannot compartmentalised police work into distinct black and white areas. There are grey areas in between. You stop a man for speeding. He produces a telegram that his mother is seriously ill. Do you issue him a speeding ticket or do you wish him a safe journey.

I believed that as the head of a department in the police force you have got to have a firm understanding of the conditions and constraints your men is working under. You must be decisive and have the guts to act on your own without running to the next higher up for instructions every time something needs to be done. These are some of the important factors that would determine the degree of believe your men have in you and the trust you have in your subordinates. It would be extremely difficult and frustrating as I have discovered, to work in an environment where mutual trust and understanding do not exist. I cannot function well in such an atmosphere. I am not being petty but utilising detectives from another branch to conduct your department’s investigation is definitely not a morale booster. To make matters worse sending “spies” to shadow your own men whilst they are conducting vice and gaming raids is enough to alienate your officers and men. By all means take disciplinary action if your men are proven corrupted but do it openly and not behind their back.

I have served 9 years in this department before leaving for Angola. By this time there should be at least a 2 storey semi-detached house to my name, an imported car in my garage and substantial funds in the bank. Luxuries that officers from the other branches of the Royal Malaysia Police assumed normally come with working in my department. Yet to pay the bill for my only daughter’s appendix operation I have to utilised my wife’s credit card account. Therefore when after 9 years someone comes along who sees only deceit and dishonesty in his subordinates I am only being human if I feel hurt and betrayed. As I could not take it any longer without the risk of running amuck (people of Bugis descendant it seems has a higher risk of running wild, maybe because we believed in what we are doing), I finally decided on the UN mission where ever it may be. To cool off or to run away from my problems, call it what ever you want but that was the best solution for me.

And here I am in Angola. To ACP Hj. Jamaludin Arshad, the 1st honest Assistant Director of the Anti Secret Societies, Gambling & Vice Branch of the Royal Malaysia Police, my thanks goes to you.