After the high profile verdicts

Today, on 4th September 2022, as an ordinary citizen of 65 year old of independent Malaysia, I feel there is hope for a better future for my children and grand children as well as for my 2 great grand children. The Judiciary confirmed its independence without prejudice and political manipulations. I pray, that this is the beginning for the people in Malaysia to be blessed with the fortune of having leaders more mature with a sense of better consciousness and sensitivity and most importantly having solid visions of governance for a strong Malaysia economically for the Malaysian people especially to enable the nurturing of the younger generations to be strong physically, emotionally, spiritually and intellectually. In spite of the political hazards the young citizens of Malaysia were still able to remain afloat and survive well in their studies in the higher institutions of learning both at home and overseas. They are the talents needed to continue to develop Malaysia where good talents are given the appreciation and acknowledgement they deserve. I feel I can sleep better at nights now.

Saying my farewell

He was smiling when he was wheeled into the operation theatre. Earlier on in the CCU room, he was cheerful. Personally I was baffled why he was in that mood. My four children were all with me. The previous night after our prayer together I was reading 'the doa selamat' and broke down towards the end and they were very concerned and anxious. The operation took longer than earlier anticipated. The doctor came out to tell us that the surgeon needed time to scrutinize and analyze the intestines which had collapsed due to earlier operations. Due to that fact, we were advised to return home or go for meal. 

He was given epidurals to suppress the pain and was gaining consciousness with slight hallucinations. The surgeon said that it was a normal consequence of epidural administration. He was happy with the operation and had no worries. His two assistants conveyed different messages. One especially was all the time using the word critical to me. Personally I was very confused with these mixed signals. I still wonder what they actually meant when they used the term 'stable'. Was it stable to mean getting better or stable as no change though critical? 

He became fully conscious on Monday but said that he was in pain. The doctors did not wish to have him overdosed with pain killers. They tried to make him comfortable but to no avail. He became moody and when the children came to visit he wanted them to leave early. He was visibly irritable and in great discomfort. He was disgruntled with the nurses and the doctors. His behavior was totally out of character and I had not seen this side of him before. Nothing I did or said was right. The doctors and nurses advised him to sit up, have the pillows popped up at his back. He refused. He said that he preferred to lie down. He was advised to have the oxygen tube inserted in his nostrils, he took it off the moment they left the room. What made him so angry was that the pain killer was not effectively working to reduce the pain. He kept on softly pressing a small soft pillow at his stomach. Fortunately by midnight he was able to snatch some short naps.

Early the next morning he told me he wanted to have mushroom soap. I checked with the nurse and she said he could have fluid foods. So I rushed home and had the mushroom soup boiled. He was ravenously swallowing the soup which I spooned to his mouth. I was touched by that because he was having his favourite soup. By 11 he was groaning with pain. I was worried if that was due to the soup he had earlier which could have upset his tummy. When he was calmer, I went home for lunch. Immediately I finished my zohor prayer I received a call from the surgeon saying that he was going to operate on him again. So I rushed to the hospital just in time to see him smiling at me and our children as he was wheeled into the operation theatre.

A Farewell.....

The 28th September was a significant day. It was his last admission to the hospital. That day, after lunch and after my brother bade him farewell, he complained of aches and slight bleeding and it was making him anxious. At his insistence, Alang drove him to the hospital again. He was rushed to the scanning unit to see whether they could insert stoppages to the holes in the intestines. The doctor could not do it because according to her there was insufficient bleeding. Insufficient bleeding indeed! When he came out he could still jokingly told Alang and I that it did not matter, the doctor was a beautiful looking lady! 

On Monday, in the ICU unit, he was very subdued. I knew he had already made up his mind for an operation. The doctor contacted his former professor at the University Hospital and arranged for a more thorough scrutiny of the condition of his intestines. We failed to get consultation appointment at the Selayang Medical Centre and my regret here is that I failed to think of seeking assisstance from friends to get an appointment. Everything was happening so fast around me that I failed to grab moments to think through on whatever decisions or actions taken. Personally, I could not agree to his decision. The 50/50 chance and his age minus point disturbed me and in my mind he should not opt for it. But each time I voiced out my hesitation and concern for it, he would quickly dismissed it. He was so positive of its outcome that he would talk cheerfully about the post operation to friends, like Jun and Kem, when they came to visit. If he had any worry he hid it very well. After each visit friends and relatives felt confident that everything was going to be alright.

The scanning procedure at The University Hospital went well. He was a referred case. The professionals were very nice, polite and proficient. The administrative staff, the receptionist and the clerks were very rude! One in particular made me feel like a beggar. I asked one of the surgeons who attended to him what could be the cause of his problem. She said that most probably it could be the term taking of pain killers. We in the family knew that he had been taking lots of pain killers for whatever ailments and he loved self prescribing himself. There were occassions he prescribed medications for my ills too.

Before his operation scheduled on Friday, the 2nd of October, the surgeon came to discuss the procedure. He began with the caution but he was optimistic that he could do it and everything would be okay. Then came the visit of the cardiologist who did the echo test and concluded that his heart could take in the operation. Lastly came the anaesthetist. The colon cleansing regimen was the most tedious and pityful. He was bleeding so much that made him lifeless. He was growing more quiet and preferred the room to be dimlighted. He was obviously listless and showed no interest in what was in the news. Before this he would listen intently on the news I read to him in the newspapers. On the morning of the operation he was perky and sounded excited after his early morning bath.

A farewell.....

My husband used to be saying to me, ' if I could have my wish, I would wish to die without a dragging long illness which would incur lots of trouble to people having to look after me.' The way he left us was like Allah Granted his wish. He became ill so suddenly at midnight on the 17th September 2010. He woke me up complaining of terrible stomach ache. As I normally responded to that complaint I massaged his tummy the way I had learned to do to ease a constipated stomach pain. At the same time I nagged him for consuming so much grate fruit earlier for dinner. He then said that he had to let out but soonest he was  yelling out that he was bleeding profusely and that he was feeling faint. I called for Zaroff to help me as his body was going limp. Zaroff was watching television in the tv room upstairs. He rushed and together we cleansed him and carried him to the bedroom couch because he had already fainted. I administered the tiny pill under his toungue thinking that he was having a heart attack. Immediately he opened his eyes and gave me a sweet tired smile. In the meantime Asrul and Alang had come and had called for the ambulance and we managed to admit him to the ICU unit by 2am. The specialist said he had lost a lot of blood and needed bottles of blood transfusions. By Friday he was discharged well and smiling and on Saturday insisted I drove him to the wet market at section 14 because he wanted to buy crabs for the children who were coming for our weekly family dinner. And of course he ate the crabs more than the children did. On Sunday afternoon, he had a second attack. This was more sudden than the first one. He had no time to rush to the bathroom. He was bleeding in the bedroom and he fainted in my arms before he could sit down. I put his head on the floor and searched for the heart tablet again. Seconds later he opened his eyes and smiled. After cleaning up we again had the ambulance take us to the hospital. I told the doctor that this time he had too much crabs. The doctor dismissed the gratefruit or the crab cause to the problem. He did some scans and concluded that he was suspecting something wrong with his small intestines as his colon was clear. He offered three options. One was of course an operation to remove the damaged intestines but considering his age, the doctor was not keen on it as that would be a 50/50 chance of survival.The second option was to let it be and just rush to the hospital each time a bleeding occured to get blood transfusions. The doctor told me that what I did in putting his head on the floor each time he fainted was the right thing to do. The worst thing would be to put him in a sitting position. By having his head flat at body level was to allow the blood and oxygen to rush to his head. The doctor was in favour of that option although it entailed a lot of inconvenience. He would have to remain confined to the house as the bleeding would happen anywhere and very fast. On the other hand, he said that the problem might just disappear with time. There had been cases where the bleeder or bleeders would just heal itself. My husband did not like the idea of the inconveniences involved in the second option. The third option was to rush the hospital while bleeding and they could gun stoppages to the holes once they could see the bleeders through the scan. That would be very chancy. With that options in mind he was discharged two days after the second bleeding. He was cheerful on Saturday morning when our friend, Jun and Dato Kamaruzzaman came to visit. He was talking about playing golf and travelling again. In my mind I was thinking, ' this cannot be real he must be kidding'. On Sunday morning, my brother, Dr Bahari came as I had phoned earlier to ask for his opinion. My brother told of the tremendous risks of having the operation. He said he had consulted a few of his specialist friends about such operations. With my husband he was very diplomatic and entertained my husband's ramblings about his plan for an operation.

A farewell.

For the first time in my life I looked at death in the face at 5.31pm on 12th October 2010. I watched how life was slowly leaving the body of my husband. After whole day of chaotic readings of his blood pressure and heart beats, by 3 pm, his heart beats were so fast and his pressure was dropping so fast that by evening I observed that the ends of the fingers and his lips were turning blue and soon he was gone. Before that with my brother, Dato Dr Bahari Awang Ngah and my brother in law Dr Zulkifli and I were taking turns to read the 'syahadah' into his ears. I had my son, Radin Asrul, besides me throughout the last hours. Some family members were also around. Remembering what I had learned in my religious classes, I managed to command the strength to face the reality of the situation and not break down. I slowly covered his face and said my silent farewell to the man with whom I have shared 48 years short of two months of my life with. That particular moment I acknowledged deep down in my heart that that was Allah's Will and it was time for him to return to his Creator and it was time for me to let go. 

I immediately told Asrul to arrange for his father's funeral that very same night. He alerted his brother Radin Alang, to liase with the mosque where his ablusions and the final prayer would take place. My son in law, Abu Zaharoff, made the police report with the death certificate from the hospital. I felt my body was shivering but I managed to keep calm to say my evening , Asar, prayer at the hospital accompanied by Asrul's mother in law, Puan Rohani. While his body was being cleansed by the hospital, Zaroff drove me home to pick up my other grandchildren at home. We arranged for the funeral to be after the 'isyak' prayer. The whole family went to the Taqwa Mosque at Taman Tun Dr Ismail for our first night prayer. When I arrived there, I was greeted by so many of our friends which was so touching. To mind I remember greeting Tan Sri Halim Saad, Tan Sri Mohd Nor Yusoff, Tan Sri Desa Pachi, Tan Sri Hashim Aman and many more.  My sons gave their father his final bath and with all my siblings and close friends I did my farewell prayer. We then left for the funeral rites at Bukit Kiara cemetry. Many friends also attended the funeral. Many of my class mates came to attend the burial ceremony. To mind I remember meeting Tun Ahmad Sarji, Dato Shaari Jabar and Datin kalsom, Dato Sulaiman Osma and Datin Norfiah, Tan Yusoff Hitam and wife, Dato Kamaruddin Mahmud and many others. 

I was trying very hard to focus on the burial rites as I would not want to miss up on anything. It was very sad to see my sons all there to receive their father's  body and to bury him. I felt so proud of them for being so brave yet silently must be feeling so broken inside. They were close to their father and were at his bedside every night when he was sick in hospital. At the corners of my eyes I could see my young grandchildren, 10 year old Afyq, 6 year old Raeyn and Ian and my 4 year old Fytri looking around in wonderment not fully able to grasp the meanings of whats going around them. They were traumatised for a long time as a result of that wonderment especially Afyq who cried loudly before we finally wrapped the body for the funeral. After we left, Ustaz Hussein Yee came with his group of students to bid farewell with a prayer. 

I felt confident burying the same night was the right thing to do. In the hadis our Prophet did say that the burying of the dead should not be delayed. The caretakers of the Bukit Kiara burying ground were ever ready to do the job at any time of the day. The place was lighted up for the purpose. Some relatives suggested we should have taken him home first. But to me that is only a sentiment we can do without. So, personally I have no misgivings about that. My children were all in aggreement, so thats that. We also did not have any tahlil sessions during the subsequent nights because we want to do things according the Prophet's Sunnah. For the first night we held sessions of night prayers together followed by a Tazkirah given by Hussein Yee which gave us a very meaningful understanding of death as mentioned in the Quran and Hadith. It helped to anchor my faith that whatever happened if death were to take place, it will take place. Nothing could deter it. Sinking in that fact for a fact made the burden of ' what ifs' a little easier. Otherwise I could lose myself in 'what if I had not agreed for him to do the operation?', what if I had taken him to seek another specialist?', or ' what if we had gone to another hospital?'. As a family we continued to pray together for several nights after that. 

Even now I do wonder if I did the right thing in not breaking down or shed a tear during the whole day and night. I was consciously trying to be very brave in front of the children. I did not wish to allow myself to lose myself and break down even though I was broken up in pieces with grief inside. Maybe because of that bottle up emotions, I had it so bad during the following days and months. 

A Farewell To My Beloved

Even though I managed to overcome my grief eventually, it was immensely tough at the beginning. The toughest was the first six months. Inside of me I felt completely numb. At the very pits of my being I felt aches and pain which was indescribable. Its a very mixed feelings of loss, longing, misgivings and endless yearnings which would leave me breathless and suffocated, with physical pains which left me totally fatigued. Living became mechanical. With people around, even family members I was feeling neither here nor there. Food became tasteless and as a result I lost 10 kilos in two weeks. Continuing to look after his garden became my life line. Whats left of my passion for life I put into my gardening because he loved his garden. At one point it became really bad that I had to seek a psychatric advice from a friend of my brother, Dr Zahari Ngah, who is a consultant in London. This psychatrist friend diagnosed meas suffering from panic attacks as a result of depression over the loss. After a few weeks of medication, I began to function normally well enough to reattend my religious and Quranic language classes and could find joy in gardening. I sometimes and still do wonder if it is the other way around, would he be missing me that much? Will he suffer as I have suffered?  Knowing man, I honestly doubt it. It is the women left behind by the husbands that suffer the most. I suppose it is in the nature of things. I asked my friends with similar situations and the answer is all the same. The aches are still there deep down. Dato Rahmah Jamaluddin, who lost her husband 22 years ago said that the feeling is as though her husband  'only left yesterday'. Datin Asiah Ibrahim,  another close friend, also said the same thing but consolingly said that it got better with time. So it is the process that we have got to through and the differenceis only in the degree and the depth of the pain and thus the healing process and the healing periods may differ. 

My Love For Travel

Travelling is in my blood. It has been with me since I was a small girl. Going somewhere has always been an adventure of sorts. My late husband fully acknowledged this fact. When I was working he did not mind my going outstation to work. After I retired I used to join friends to visit foreign countries and the new experiences I felt were like fulfilling a thirst. That fascination lives on after my husband passed on and was an antidote to my grieving soul. 

The healing worked in mysterious ways. When I revisited London in December 2012, with my grand daughter, Radin Eliyana, and stayed with my eldest grandchild, Nur Ayne Faeza, I revisited the places and the shops I used to go with my late husband and relived the moments we were there together. After those relived moments I could physically feel my body lifted and my soul serene. My longing would no longer be with choked feelings in the throat and tears welding in my eyes. 

I treated my grand daughters to the very same Thai Restaurant at Oxford Street we went to in 1986 and ordered the same dishes and literally looked in my mind's eye at the happy moments of 1986. Those were just fleeting moments. My grand daughters were not even conscious of my momentary sojourn. I would then focus on our current happy, chatty times together with them. We really had a lovely lunch, lovely time together and lovely sharings. My husband used to love going for walks at the Hyde Park. In December Ayne's flat was at Lancaster gate, just across the road to Hyde Park. We very often walked across or in Hyde Park itself. First time I stepped my feet on Hyde Park, I felt nostalgically sick but as I moved on silently alone in my thoughts of those yester years, I began to feel better and towards the end of our stay I was able to sing his favourite songs loudly when it was my turn to sing with tears in my heart. To my grand daughters my songs were old songs unfamiliar to them. To me songs like Nat King Cole's ' when I Fall in love' and P Ramlee's ' Di Manakan Ku Cari Ganti' are songs of my soul and forever green in my heart. My late husband loved shopping. He had his favourite shops. I revisited those shops and sat at the same spot where we had tea at the shop's restaurant and felt better. After all those revisits, the city was no longer a place I earlier feared to visit. During my visit to the United States in August 2013, I was able to do the same during our stay in New York. My husband was particular about our accommodation. My daughter in law and my son took pains to ensure that our places of stay were comfortable, beautiful and practical. Our hotel, ' the New Zealand Hotel'  on 57th Avenue was a beautiful place. I used to walk up and down the Avenue alone lost in my own thoughts and memories and thereby slowly healed my loss and I feel stronger for it. The place is no longer daunting. I was so afraid before the journey that I might spoil my children's holiday if I would just spend time mopping around. I am so grateful that it did not happen that way. I had a wonderful holiday, in fact one of the best holidays I have had, visiting Radin Eliyana at The Le High University, Bethelemn, Pennsylvania. My latest travel was to Langkawi on the 9th of December 2013, when I treated my daughter and my four grandchildren together with my two sisters, my nephew and his family. My earlier visit with my husband in 2003 on a treat by Radin Azlan, my youngest son. I was able to mentally view that earlier visit from a distance that no longer pained the heart. The happiness imbued during those two visits were different. The earlier visit was just the two of us. We found joy in each other's company. The recent visit was a joyous time with my grandsons and grand daughter. We sat on the beach to watch the beauty of the sunsets and let our bodies being massaged by the waves. We then swam in the swimming pool, had races with each other even though I ended up the last. We also tested who could stay in the water the longest. We teased each other and laughed so much so we felt aches in our stomachs. Company of the young could be so exhilarating and consuming because every time the water splashed on our faces and every time our boat moved in our mangrove adventure, they laughed. They could find joy in the tiniest of things out of the ordinary. Being with that hunger for adventure and curiosity is simply satiating. Looking at things with their eyes is actually seeing beauty even in very ordinary things. To Fytri, my 7 year old grand daughter, a plastic pendant in the shape of the heart, could be so beautiful. She wears it and feels beautiful and dignified with it just because she has paid for it with her own savings from her pocket money and treated it as though it was like an expensive diamond pendant. There is endless joy when a child starts collecting shells on the beach. 

I derive a different joy when I travel nowadays. Its no longer just the happiness of being in different places but its the company and the bondings that I have with my children and grand children with my siblings and their families that I look forward to in my travels. This is a kind of joy many of my friends experience too, which is indescribable in words.