Tears of a girl
I saw many dead bodies lying around me. It was just after a tough
fight, stopped just days after the Japanese surrendered to the
British, as they had signed a treaty to give up Singapore. I walked
along the streets, feeling downcast, at the arrays of dead bodies
filling the road. There were blood stains on the roads, I was
shaking with fear at the sight of the bodies.
I lived in a kampong house with my brother, at the foot of Bukit
Chandu, made of wood. Just beside our house, is a patch of land for
growing crops like cabbage and potatoes. While on the other side,
is a rubber and papaya plantation. However, the crops we have, were
not enough, we often have to endure the nights when my poor mother,
frail and sick as she is, giving us her food, so that we won't go
hungry. Even going to the toilet is a hard task as the toilet is
situated far from my house furthermore, the toilets are shared and
that is why the hygiene of the toilet is very bad.. The villagers
have to walk a few metres to reach the toilets. Toilets were
functioned with the bucket system where people pass the faeces in
the bucket and this has caused the infectious disease called
Malaria. In addition to make the matter worst, medication were
limited and there were not much cure.
My father, the sole bread winner, was amongst the hundreds of
people who were unemployed as the war had just ended on the fifth
of September. He, not able to take the stress of not finding a job
to support us while watching us go hungry almost every night, and
fainting ever so frequently because of hunger, took to smoking
opium to relieve stress. Often, me and my brother could hear my
father and my mother both quarrelling. They would shout at each
other and try to find fault with each other. They often quarrel
about us, things like why my father would not try to find a job to
supplement the family income and to save us from being
hungry.
While my father, often rebuked back by saying that she doesn't take
care of the children. As they were quarrelling about those, me and
my brother would weep and hug each other silently by the door crack
as we peered out from it. Me being the elder sister would cover his
eyes and ears, trying to prevent him from listening and watching.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, I could hear the soft
whimpering cries of my mother, alone in her room. I felt so
depressed upon seeing my mother's situation. I am not as lucky as
my brother as he had a proper education and I did not. I felt like
telling my aunt, who is living in Penang about this problem but the
damaged of electrical supply disrupt the telephone line and
communication was difficult after the war. As people were too
cautious and were afraid to go to other countries to send letters
furthermore postman can only send letters around Singapore and not
to other countries as they have limited transportation. Jobs I can
do are limited, I often chided myself for bring so useless and even
tried to cut my wrist in order to relieve my stress, my mother
found out and she kept me in her room. Soon after, when I was cured
of my addiction to cutting myself up. I found a job as a waitress
in the main streets just a few streets away from my house at Bukit
Chandu. Business there was very poor as there was a shortage of
food and my job was relatively easy, except from some rude people,
my job was good, with people offering me tips sometimes, even just
1 or 2 cents, I was satisfied.
At home it was the same situation too, a shortage of food, water
fit for consumption and medicine throughout the entire village.
Villagers throughout the village are saving up their resources.
When the time comes, they would go to the place where there is pipe
for public to collect water. This water could be used for bathing,
cleaning and also for drinking. This was done due to water
rationing. As I was working in the city, I saw many rumbles of
building, mostly burnt. Now, city's security was in a mess, and
many took advantage of the chance and robbed shops in large
numbers. Violence and disorder is now a common sight after the war.
I was afraid of the robbers as I was just a girl, and always rushed
home immediately after work. Once, I was being followed by a guy,
of about age 20, he had a shady look. Upon turning back, I got
frightened and holding my bag closer to me, began to pick up speed,
I then looked around and seeing no one in sight other then the man,
began to run, trying to escape from the man, if he really was going
to rob me. I glanced back, and saw the man trying to pick up speed
too, and eyeing me he dashed for my bag, trying to snatch my bag
away from me. I kicked his leg in a desperate attempt to save my
money in my bag, shouting at the top of my voice 'help!!' at the
same time. The thief got nervous and tried to slap me quieten me
down, suddenly, quick as lightning, a dark figure appeared out of
nowhere, I could not see who it was it was late at night, and there
was no lamppost that was working. The dark figure then rammed
itself against the robber's shoulder, sending him
crashing to the ground in a yelp.
The mysterious man then grabbed my hand and said in a hoarse voice,
'come!!' and pulled me to the next street. The man appeared to be
swaying and he stopped just outside a temple by chance, I saw his
face as wisps of moonlight shone on him. I got surprised and hug
him with tearful eyes and cried 'Father! I was so scared just now
,glad you came to my rescue.' my father gave me a hug and
whispered, 'Don't cry girl, lets go home now, 'I smiled at him and
we went home quietly, together. I then found out that he lost his
money and could afford just a few puffs of opium so he went home
early. Aisyrah, my best friend was having a better life than me.
Her family income was higher than me, her father was not an opium
smoker, her parents loved each other and seldom fight. I have
always envied her. She had three brothers who were kind and caring.
I had known Aisyrah since I was a child, we had a lot of fun
together when we were younger, and running around the village was
what I remembered most free from darkness and fear. Although we are
best friends, we seldom met up and talked after the war. If we met
each other in the streets, she would accompany me to my workplace
and we would chat only than. Aisyrah, bring concerned about me,
would ask whether my father would still ask for money from my
mother.
Meanwhile in the streets, people were going on strikes in order to
ask for higher pay and better working conditions, during 1947. l
was also involved in it, out of heart to improve better conditions
for my family, however, I found it pointless after 2 days as I did
not get any pay for 2 days, and I was worse off. As the riots
continued, shops closed down, including the place I worked at, and
that plunged my family into another crisis, only having the money
my mother made from doing odd jobs. I was forbidden to go out as my
mother heard that someone was beaten to death during the riots.
Shortly the BMA, which was the British Ministry Administration,
stepped in, to help solve some of the problems then, lack of
housing, unemployment and lack of food and water.
Thinking that the riots were finally over, we were relieved and I
decided to go to work again. To my utter dismay, I discovered that
my father has been drinking and that made him drunk every night he
came back, usually very late. This has again cost the family to be
worried that he will waste more money away. Seeing that the riots
are over, people had volunteered themselves to clean up which
mainly consisted of burnt staff, rubbish, banners and flags.
Aisyrah and I volunteered to clean up. It was hard work indeed, but
we managed it not long after, laws were imposed and police were
introduced, to curb the high crime rate. However, it was not enough
to control the high crime rates. Once, I saw a police officer
dressed in kuaki shorts, wearing light grey clothes coming up to
me, notifying me of a robber in the area. I could see that the
officer only had a wooden baton as their form of protection as
there was lack of weapons as most the weapons were destroyed during
the war.
At that time, the gangsters greatly outnumbered the police,
nevertheless, the security of the place was better then before. The
police was afraid of the gangster as some of them would threaten
them, saying that they would harm their family if he did anything
to them. Due to my lack of education, I always looked at my brother
doing his homework, or read some of his books when I am free, I
also asked him to teach me basic things like alphabets and simple
letterings. After so many things happening in my life, I grew up to
be a sensible and responsible person. I know very well wad
condition my family is in, and I frequently work overtime, just for
a few dollars, in order to let my brother and parents have a good
meal, reducing the burden too. I heard that there was a riot in a
place near my working place from my mother, thus I took the long
route, when I reached the place where I take correct route I
wanted, I saw a familiar face, amongst some broken planks of wood.
Lying there, not moving an inch was Aisyriah, I was rooted to the
spot for a moment, staring blank-eyed at the scene in front of me,
then I shook myself awake then calling her name at the same time
running towards her, her eyes opened, but she remained silent. I
was shocked, but I commanded myself to remain calm, and save
Aisyriah first, I could not let her die, she was my best friend,
possibly the best of I would ever have. Holding back my tears and
mustering all of my energy, I removed the planks one by one, while
the tears trickled down slowly from my cheeks, it was as though
time had stopped. When I heaved one of the boards over, Aisyriah
face was free from the planks, I tried to get her awake by beating
her face gently, when she did not budge, I poured some water from
my bottle onto her face. Her eyes blinked a little and she said in
a faint voice, 'help'. I then set to work immediately, after
removing the last board, she smiled faintly and I heaved her up,
bringing her back to her house for treatment. I found out that she
only had some bruises and a fracture, bound to recover in some
time. After bringing her back to her house, l immediately rushed to
my workplace, to inform the boss that l would be coming to work for
that day, the boss was forgiving and he allowed me to take
leave.
The next morning, as my mother prepared breakfast, l noticed some
bruises on her arms, but l kept quiet about it. When l finally ask
her when l got back from work, she told me then she had knocked
herself onto the table as she was not careful, thinking that things
were fishy, l pretended to believe her and kept quiet about it.
What she did not know was that l already had a plan in mind, to
find out where her bruises came from. That night, l went to bed
lately, just before my father came back, and when l saw him, my
heart skipped a beat as he was drunk.
After my mother spoke something to my father, my mother received a
tight slap over her face, and l gasped, stunned by the sight in
front of me of I could not believe , my father was actually the
cause of the injuries on my mother body. I watched as she tried to
defend herself against the ever-finishing blows of my father, as a
tear trickled down her cheeks with each blow, and pleading
soundlessly for my father to stop, however ,to no avail. She
remained silent through out the ten minutes, for fear of waking us
up, for the pain would have caused anyone to scream if they did not
shut their mouth tightly. My father was a strong man, which was why
my mother fending herself, didn't help her a lot. As women in the
past are stereotyped as someone who is less needed and less
important by the society my mother had no right to fight the brutal
blows of my father. I told myself not to help her, instructing
myself to wait until the desperate moment, l stood by and
watched.
Finally, not being able to control myself, I rushed forward and
braced myself for the impact. My father then saw me and was
stunned, I knew that as I was staring at him. He then stomped back
into the room, after giving me a kick in my back, muttering
vulgarities under his breath. Mother looked at me with wide eyes
and locked me in an embrace. One fine day, my mother told me she
woke up with her eyelids twitching and that she had a vision that
something bad was going to happen. My father came back from
drinking during dinnertime, and this time he appeared sick and with
heavy steps, he went into the room and all went quiet .My mother,
hesitated for a moment, as though considering things, she followed
after my father into the room. I followed after her, stopping just
by the door, as to not let her catch me tiptoeing and following
her. l peeped inside and heard my father's chest heaving up and
down rapidly, and with a sudden shout, he stopped moving and
breathing, and indeed something bad had happen, my father was dead.
Due to financial problems, we cannot afford to give him a burial,
so we just buried his body away.
As we buried his body, I remembered about the time, when I was
inured. Having no money to feed ourselves, there were charity
organisations giving out free food, such as bread, to people who
needed them, me and my mother would queue up for free food. That
was how we survived the one week in which we did not have the
ability to earn any money as we had injuries. During that phrase of
time, we had hardly enough to feed even ourselves, until now, I
still think that it was a miracle that we managed to survive that
phrase of time I also remembered that.
When the war was over, we had difficulty finding a school for my
brother, as education was in great need at that time, as the
Japanese had destroyed the schools, and built Japanese schools when
they were occupying Singapore. With much begging and difficulty, we
managed to get my brother in a school, quite far away, I also had a
faint memory about my brother having to walking 2 kilometre
everyday, just to get to the school.
'Life must go on, that's wad my mother said to me when i started to
give up in life. I continued working as a waitress in the city
while my mother did simple jobs, such as washing clothes for
people. Now she has one less mouth to feed as my father is dead,
now, all our family had to pay was the rent and my brother
educational fee. We still did our duty as his children by visiting
his grave together as a family when we have the time. Now, in 2007,
the security of the country is better, with stricter laws
improvised and police given proper training, and even held guns.
Aisyriah comforted me when l told her about my father death. Now, I
feel safe because the security is tight in Singapore and after a
few years after my father's death, my brother passed his exam with
flying exams, I am sure that my father would be proud if he was
alive.
There were many problems my family and I faced together, now we
have gone through the difficult times of post war period. I will
take the experience as a life learning experience and learn not to
take things for granted and appreciate what I have now. I have
better source of income as my brother had a good job and was able
to support the family. I am proud to be the part of the history of
Singapore.
.
THE END
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