THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

84 Memoirs of Mustapha Hussain
to survey his neat, sunny office. A sudden whiff of 4711 Eau de Cologne
and a most delicate Santalia-based fragrance floated across my nostrils.
Folding the recommendation letter carefully, he commented, “According
to this letter, you are a highly intelligent and capable student.” Then,
his large clear eyes fell on my fancy white shoes with bold brown stripes.
He said pointedly, “Next time, buy shoes like this,” with his index finger
pointing towards his own unattractive pair. I hastily replied, “Yes, Sir.”
The next day, I bought a tin of Kiwi brown shoe polish and painted my
fancy shoes brown.
Next, he called Notice Server Jamil. After a brief introduction, he
instructed Jamil, “Take Enchik Mustapha to... Never mind! Early
tomorrow morning, take Enchik Mustapha to Temoh instead. I want both
of you there at 7.00 am.” I was about to protest that I had not been given
a chance to look for a house yet, but had no chance. A large table facing
a bustling main road was assigned to me.
I was anxious; whatever furniture I owned was somewhere at the
train station. Luckily, Jamil accompanied me to the station, lugged the
bits and pieces into a small lorry, and together, we headed towards my
brother’s friend’s house in Tapah town. On the way, I tried to find out
more about my new boss by commenting, “Looks like the boss is rather
strict. He did not even give me time to look for a place. I am already
assigned to do something first thing tomorrow.” “That is all right,”
responded Jamil. “Just wait and see,” he added with a lingering smile.
When I mentioned the same subject to Enchik Dahalan bin Mohd Salleh,
my brother’s friend, his reply was about the same as Jamil’s. “That is
typical of Ariffin. Just wait and see.” I therefore waited for this ‘wait
and see’.
At the crack of dawn the next morning, Jamil and I cycled to Temoh,
a small town with just two rows of narrow wooden shop-houses facing
each other. Shortly after, Ariffin arrived on a motorcycle too small for
its bounteous human load. After assembling the town’s shopkeepers –
mainly Chinese with a smattering of Indians – Ariffin asked me to give a
small lecture, my maiden public lecture.
My first duty as an AA in the Batang Padang District was therefore
to share my knowledge on methods to counter the spread of common
garden snails in the sleepy town. I pointed out that it was best to kill the
snails at night when they came out to feed (during the day, they hid in
undergrowth and dumping grounds). The best way to destroy this pest
was by dumping them in a pail of hot water; the best prevention method
was by clearing undergrowth, enabling the sun’s rays to destroy their eggs,
while leftover food and vegetables should not be dumped indiscriminately.