Seniors reflect on the 'good old days', what Merdeka means

Louis recounts how Tunku’s car, a Nash Rambler, drove up to the field, and his speech which brought everyone to tears. Photo: Filepic

Anthony Louis, 87, from Taman Sinn, Melaka, remembers that after Tunku Abdul Rahman signed the Federation of Malaya Agreement on Feb 8, 1956, at the Lancaster House in London, he flew back into the country via Singapore and then on to Melaka.

The “Rombongan Merdeka” returning party landed at the Batu Berendam airport to a joyous reception and, from there, they drove in a convoy to the Padang Merdeka (now Padang Pahlawan) in Banda Hilir, where Tunku announced that Independence Day would be officially declared on Aug 31 the following year.

“I was about 21 years old, and working in JKR (Public Works Department) at the time, and my boss instructed me to put up a pentas (stage) at the padang for Tunku to give a speech to the crowds,” Louis said. “Back then, what we would do was fill up oil drums with sand and use that as a base, then place some beams on them – it was a very crude way of building a stage but it was sturdy enough to hold at least 20 people on it.”

Imagine Louis’ horror when more than 20 people went up on stage that day!

“My technical assistant kept frightening us by saying the authorities would have our heads if anyone fell off the stage! Thankfully, everything went very smoothly that day. I remember being there and seeing people from all over congregate at the padang. There were over 50,000 people – the Indian labourers dressed in their finest, the kampung folk with their whole families in bullock carts (... there was no Grab in those days, you know), the Chinese townsfolk, some with their gongs and violins... everyone was in a joyous mood.”

Louis recounts how Tunku’s car, a Nash Rambler, drove up to the field, and his speech which brought everyone to tears. “It was the first time we had heard anything like that, and Tunku said there would be a place for all of us here in this country,” he said.

More than six decades have gone by since that momentous day, and Louis has seen numerous prime ministers come and go. “At the moment, things are not good. This morning down at the coffee shop, my friends and I were talking about how people are finding it so difficult; life is not easy. But I am hopeful that our new PM Anwar Ibrahim will bring about the change that is needed here, to realise a ‘Malaysia Madani’. Then we can all stand together again, and move forward.”

Louis says reminiscing about Merdeka brings back lots of memories for him. He tearfully shares that he greatly misses his dear, late wife at moments like these and thinks of her fondly. The month of August also reminds him how his Portuguese ancestors captured Melaka back in 1511 on Aug 15.

“My children and grandchildren have all left Melaka now; many have migrated overseas to seek better fortunes. But for me, Malaysia will always be my home.”

Coffee shop capers

“I was born in 1945 so I must have been 12 going on 13, on Merdeka Day in 1957,” said Long Thien Shih. “I would have been in Form 1. I used to attend the Chinese school, Ping Hwa High School, in Klang.”

The 78-year-old modern/ contemporary artist remembers a big celebration at the padang in town but not everyone was involved. “Only a few representatives were chosen from the schools for that. But even for the rest of us, Merdeka was still a big deal because we got a holiday that day!”

Just before 1957, the schoolchildren were taught how to sing Negaraku in singing class, he recollected. And Long said that even prior to the big day when Tunku Abdul Rahman proclaimed Merdeka, he’d often hear the townsfolk and elders in the community talking about what was on the horizon.

“My father owned a coffee shop in Klang, and every day people would come and go, and everyone would be talking about independence. They would use words like ‘colonial’ and ‘freedom’ but I never thought much of it then. I was still a young boy,” he said. “I only remember them saying that once we had independence, the Chinese and Indians would be given citizenship here. The radio was always turned on at the shop, and we would listen to all the updates there. We also subscribed to the newspapers – Sin Chew Jit Poh and Nanyang Siang Pau – everyone came to the shop to read the papers.”

Long said that back in those days, his father’s coffee shop was a meeting point for all people – Malays, Chinese, Indian. “I never really thought much about how multiracial we were because it was just a natural way of life... even in my kampung, everyone lived side by side.”

He remembers the British as being the upper ruling class. “I had a friend who was a mechanic who repaired the cars of the British officers and they would sometimes invite him to go hunting with them in the rubber estates. That’s all I really knew of them. Also, the army troops travelling from Port Klang to KL would often stop at my father’s coffee shop. Once I had grown up and become quite a well-known artist in these parts, I was commissioned to do a painting of a British tank in the setting of a Malayan camp in Seremban, in 1963. So my best memory of the British, I suppose, is that I managed to wring a business deal out of them!” Long said with a chuckle.

He remembers that even after independence, the British only withdrew from Malaysia gradually. “There were still many British companies, businessmen, and professionals such as architects and accountants here for a long while after 1957.”

Long said that growing up he always enjoyed living in Malaysia. “But once politics started becoming very polarised, things got a bit out of hand. There have been many short-sighted politicians who will go to the extent of spreading false facts just to gain political mileage and this has led to average citizens being misled. And that’s how our once-tight communities are being divided.”

Malaysians abroad

Hanging stately in Dr George Thomas’s living room in his home in Bukit Damansara, Kuala Lumpur, are a number of old black and white photos, from the 1940s, 50s and 60s, painstakingly restored and framed for posterity: There’s an old studio picture of his family with the family matriarch in the centre, a grainy picture of his father during the Japanese Occupation in Malaya, and another rather austere-looking group shot during the British rule here. Last but not least, is one of Dr George in his early 20s, alongside a group of wide-eyed Malaysian students, in the company of Tunku Abdul Rahman.

“That was taken in 1961,” says the 85-year-old retired ophthalmologist. “I was a medical student at Christian Medical College Vellore in Tamil Nadu at the time when I heard that Tunku Abdul Rahman was visiting India and would be meeting with Malaysian students, and we were all invited!

“I organised a group – there were seven of us in total – to share expenses, hire a nine-seater van and go to Madras (now Chennai) so we could meet our Prime Minister. The drive took about three hours and we arrived in the evening. We were able to chat with Tunku, all of us huddling together. We were just so in awe at the privilege of being able to meet the Tunku himself! He was so friendly and forthcoming.”

As he looks at the photo, Dr George points out some of his peers at the time – Datuk Dr Lee Hoo Teong (St John Ambulance Malaysia former Chief of Staff, Training) and the late Datuk Dr P. Candiah (Department of Veterinary Services); there were also many young Malay pilots who were training at Tambaram at the time. “We were all proud Malaysians – Malays, Chinese, Indians – all gathering to meet our Prime Minister.”

Just three years prior, the students had come together when Malaysia’s independence was proclaimed on Aug 31, 1957, at Stadium Merdeka in Kuala Lumpur.

“We congregated at a hotel in Madras and the Governor of Tamil Nadu gave a speech on the day to celebrate the momentous event. India had also become independent 10 years prior so there was a mutual celebratory spirit in the air,” said Dr George, adding that at the time, Malaysia had a good standard of education and held a favourable reputation. “Our Malaysian ringgit also served well when we were abroad. We were very fortunate in those days.”

Dr George shared that in 1956, when he first went to India after graduating from the Methodist Boys School Sentul, there was a strong desire for Malaysians to study abroad. “India became a sought-after place to continue one’s education. In my pre-university class for Medicine, for instance, 21 out of 45 students were from Malaysia! Suddenly there seemed to be an upsurge. The hope of the upcoming independence was inspiring. We were going to be a new nation soon and there would be many opportunities in store. Our parents and elders had a strong spirit of wanting to educate the young so we could come back and build our country together.”

Having lived through 15 general elections, serving the country for over 60 years as doctor, and raising his own family here, what are Dr George’s sentiments about Malaysia today? “Back then, in the beginning, there was a lot of hope for a bright future. Now, I don’t know. While I may be disappointed at the way some things have turned out and worry about what’s on the horizon, one thing hasn’t changed – I am still very proud to be a Malaysian.”

Living through historic times

Well-known theatre personality Faridah Merican laughs happily as she recollects the events that took place in 1957, honing in on her days at the Kota Baru Teachers Training College.

“It was my first year in teacher’s training at Pengkalan Chepa, Kelantan. I enjoyed myself so much there, it was such an unforgettable experience. Life at that time, and Kota Baru, were so different then,” she shared, laughing as she reminisced about dancing “a lot” in those days, and her memorable turn as Kate in a production of Shakespeare’s The Taming Of The Shrew.

“I still vividly remember the slap I gave to Petruchio!” I wonder if the teacher who was on the receiving end of that slap still feels the sting!” Faridah, now 84, said.

She had just turned 17 in 1957 – Faridah said the year was more significant for her as it marked her own freedom as a young lady.

“It was my first time away from home. I had to travel on my own by plane from Penang, where I lived with my family then, to Kota Baru. And although Malaysians were busy celebrating being liberated from the British and that freedom had come to our shores, I was not so much affected by all of that. I was just so happy being independent myself. Those days in Kota Baru were such a special part of my life. Almost like a dream. I shared a dormitory with eight other lady teachers and it was almost like finding a new family away from home.”

Faridah recalls that after Merdeka was declared, nothing changed drastically overnight.

“In fact, my life didn’t necessarily change at all. The change came gradually over the years.”

Now when she thinks about Malaysia’s independence, she is grateful for all the strong leaders of the past, including Tunku Abdul Rahman, Tun Dato Sri Tan Cheng Lock and Tun V. T. Sambanthan.

“When I look at the old photographs of these leaders, and I think about how they lowered the Union Jack and raised our Malaysian flag, I get very emotional. You don’t want to ever forget all the people who were truly instrumental. Their love for the country was so sincere; I wish it had been handed down better through the generations.

The bubbly octogenarian added: “I am glad to have lived through all those historic times – from when the Japanese left us in shambles, through to British rule. Time really flies by, doesn’t it? Has it been 66 years already? These days when we celebrate Merdeka, it feels more perfunctory. So it’s nicer to ponder about the good, old days.

“I do believe that as long as we trust that we are living the life of a Malaysian and doing our best, we have a chance of fulfilment and happiness.”