THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

Batu Gajah Prison 315
two found out my full name and my pre-war profession, they disclosed
that District Police Chief J. Birch had gone to Taiping to arrest me in
December 1941. But due to the Japanese lightning advance, he had to
leave Taiping. He later rushed to Teluk Anson to take action against Police
Inspector Yahaya who was away without leave but was intercepted by
the Japanese and killed.
My Release
Detained without any mention of a trial, I often asked the FSS Officer
about my case but received no satisfactory answer. I was already looking
like a hippie. One day I was asked to come out. I thought it was my
release, especially when many fellow detainees had already left. The one
with numerous wives was one of the earliest to depart.
After collecting my belongings that were kept in a storeroom, I was
taken in a truck back to the Ipoh Central Police Station lock-up where I
was once an ‘honourable guest’. I was thrilled to see a man I had known
while moving with the Fujiwara Kikan. Hamzah A Cunard was with the
IIL (Indian Independence League) and I with the KMM then. We were
able to talk for only two days because as soon as British Intelligence got
wind that we were birds of a feather, we were instantly separated.
Although they shut our mouths, our eyes played the role of our mouths.
Although we were not allowed to talk, no one stopped us from sharing
food sent by Hamzah’s family. Police constables at the station did not
have the heart to stop me from sharing food because they saw how feeble
I had become. Furthermore, very few senior officers have reported for
duty. Many more had been detained by the BMA on charges of complicity
with the Japanese administration and brutality. Able to enjoy meat and
chicken, my skin-and-bones body began to fill out. I began to recall warder
Mastan’s words often.
After two weeks in the Ipoh Central Police Station, I was invited to
meet the British Military Intelligence Chief in Ipoh. I was made to stand
outside his office for hours to teach me a lesson, to show me who was
master, and to make me a more submissive man by the time I entered his
room. Holding a letter in his hand, he asked if and how I knew Malay
Regiment Education Officer Chikgu Abu Samah. 3 My heart fluttered.
Was the letter 4 from Chikgu Abu Samah, whom I assisted after the fall
of Singapore? He must have written to the BMA! I explained that I
knew Chikgu Abu Samah long before the war. As fate had it, I met him
again soon after the capitulation of Singapore where he was minding
hundreds of hungry Malay soldiers and family members. It was there