THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

350 Memoirs of Mustapha Hussain
started brawling, leading to a chase, followed by a serious fistfight on
the ground. I still remember the horrendous effect the taxi driver’s shoes
(with soles made of used car tyre rubber) left on the face of the poor
Malay man. It was much worse than a punch. I was very sorry for the
trishaw-puller, but as my children were exhausted, I called for another
taxi. I feel guilty to this day. My small heart tells me, “You are cruel.
You allowed a much bigger man to hit a small one. You were the cause
of it.” I hope God Almighty will forgive me.
The house Ibrahim Karim should have booked for us was already
occupied. Ibrahim had not given the landlady my down payment. By
lugging our belongings and asking around in the dark, we found a vacant
unit near a mosque. We took it without question; we were all tired and
sleepy. That was the first time I had rented a space. Although expensive,
the unit had no rooms; just an open space divided in half by a limp cloth
that hung from some crude wires. The landlady – who, like us, was down
on her luck – stayed in the same house.
My legs were still troubling me. Two days after we arrived, we were
visited by none other than Sutan Jenain! To further my political struggles
he had sought former KMM member Idris Hakim to inform him of my
move to Kuala Lumpur. Idris agreed to help by supplying us with rice,
flour and sugar 2 rations from the shop he ran, the Selangor General
Agency (SGA), KMM’s sole economic concern. 3 As the rice supply was
small, we supplemented our meals with wheat flour noodles in a type of
fish gravy. The landlady and her three children joined in our meals as
she was in equally dire straits. When young girls carrying rattan baskets
selling Malay delicacies passed our house, we scraped some coins from
the bottom of my wife’s sewing basket to buy them. To our despair, when
the coins ran out, my young daughters ended up selling Malay cakes
like the girls.
Sutan Jenain called for a meeting of leftist politicians such as Abu,
Kundur, Abdul Aziz (now the husband of Tan Sri Hajah Aishah Ghani,
former Minister of Social Welfare), Badrillah and others living in
Kampung Baru to discuss my situation. They decided to purchase two
trishaws and daily collections would be donated to me. I declined the
sincere offer. Prophet Mohammed s.a.w. chastised any able-bodied
Muslim who begged or expected donations when he could earn a living.
A friend who had been hospitalised with me in the Malay Hospital
just before the war broke out recommended a clerical job at the War
Damage Claims Department. On the day I was to report for work, I
hesitated at the office doorway, turned around and left. I could not bring
myself to serve the colonialists any more. Desperate, I applied for a