THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

Arrested Again 321
we need not worry. There is nothing they can do to us!” Raja Omar, also
well-versed in law, was not forthcoming with advice as he felt he would
not even be able to save himself.
So many thoughts flitted across my mind as I stood outside the office,
with no one I knew to help me except a man who wore a leather wristband.
If I am not wrong, he was a son of a Mr Tallala of Kuala Lumpur.
But could he help me? After thumbing through files of reports, an Officer
inside the office shouted to my escort, “No. Sorry. We have got nothing
against him.” What a relief! But it was only a short-lived respite! Within
minutes, I was taken away to yet another place.
British Military Intelligence Headquarters
The British escorting officer took me to a two-storey building set amidst
the greenery of Kuala Lumpur Lake Gardens. If I remember right, it is
where the Parliament stands now. As soon as I arrived under its porch,
several British officers and men shouted repeatedly, “Here he comes!”
They then rushed down the stairs to shake my hand. I did not know what
it was all about. I was confused. Was I dreaming? I was ushered into a
bedroom, which they later locked from the outside.
I took advantage of this privacy to retrieve a handkerchief from my
pocket; it contained a small piece of benzoic already blessed by a religious
man. My friend Hamzah A. Cunard, who had given it to me sometime
ago, had assured me, “You use this, Mustapha. They (the opponent) can’t
do anything to you.” I pretended to wipe my perspiration with the
‘blessed’ handkerchief. Stealing glances in a mirror, I noticed my tired
face turning red. I recited a few Qur’anic verses and repeated my friend’s
mantra, “However big you (the enemy) are, Allah’s Messenger Prophet
Mohammed is greater.” Like magic, I gained a new surge of mental and
spiritual strength; my confidence and resolve mounted. I was ready to
take on several giants, with my heart fearless and my head cool.
Later, I was sent into a room where four senior British officers, the
most junior a major, sat opposite me. They started the interrogation with
questions on KMM before World War II. Was there a KMM branch in
Kota Bharu, Kelantan? What was KMM’s role in the War? Did KMM
bring benefits to the Japanese military? If so, what were they? Was it true
that Fujiwara Kikan was already in Kota Bharu, Kelantan, before the
Invasion? Did KMM contact the Japanese prior to the War? When and
how? Who played a vital role? Their fielding of questions indicated their
legal backgrounds; they were perhaps lawyers and public prosecutors.
The questions seemed straightforward and direct enough, but they were