THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

308 Memoirs of Mustapha Hussain
A Chinese detainee, accused of caning civilians while serving in the
Japanese Police, was sentenced to ten years. I also came across a Chinese
who was said to have become immensely wealthy while working with
the Japanese Police. I was puzzled to see a new and pretty face visiting
him each day. They turned out to be his ‘wives’. Eleven of them!
Detainees from Sungai Manik 1
An interesting group in the Batu Gajah Prison hailed from Sungai Manik,
Teluk Anson, including my Agricultural Assistant friend, Zakaria bin
Abdul Raof. 2 This group of Malays, who had been transferred to the
prison from the Bidor lock-up, did not socialise with us detainees from
the Ipoh lock-up. They were led by a ‘caliph’, an ancient man not less
than a hundred years old, always seen leaning against one of the shed’s
pillars. When a British officer freely labelled me ‘a Japanese collaborator’,
I asked him, with my finger pointing towards the old man, “But look at
that old man? Don’t tell me he is a Japanese collaborator too?” The
officer responded, also with a question, “So, what is he in for?” I replied,
“It is your job to investigate!”
With some effort, I managed to befriend one young man from this
strange Sungai Manik group. After I swore not to leak his story out, he
told me that they were all rice farmers in Sungai Manik. After the
Japanese surrender, their village was attacked by a group of armed Bintang
Tiga members demanding money, rice and food. Consequently, many
innocent Malays were killed. Enraged, these Sungai Manik Malays vowed
not to be intimidated into submission. Though weaponless, they prepared
to face the Bintang Tiga with bare hands. On a certain day, they stealthily
swam across a river to attack and overwhelm the enemies and their
machine-gun positions. The young man described excitedly, “I was shot
in the head, but it was just like a bee sting. I felt hot in the scalp, but
was not hurt.” He also revealed that my friend Zakaria had, in his
possession, a white robe riddled with bullet holes front and back.
Once, after a maghrib prayer at dusk, soft incantations of Qur’anic
verses floated into my cell from the block that held the Sungai Manik
detainees. It got increasingly louder, and finally, it reverberated as if a
thousand men were chanting. My hair stood on end, my left cheek
thickened, and I was deeply affected by the spirited chanting. I told
myself, “Keep on chanting, Sungai Manik group, keep on chanting. Let
the doors of the prison break down; let the walls crumble; and we shall
be free!” Several warders rushed in with weapons, ordering the chanters
to shut up. Deathly silence fell upon us once again. Only the patrolling