I don’t know much about my dad. Most of what I know came from remarks by my older sisters and occasionally by my mother. According to them, Dad was a principal in a school in Malaysia (don’t know if it’s primary or secondary level).
Prior to that he was from China, fled with his mother to Taiwan and subsequently to Singapore when the Japanese overran the respective countries. My paternal grandmother died the day I was born having fallen down several days prior. Back to my dad – he was a resistant fighter against the Japanese in Malaya/Singapore in the early 40s during Japanese occupation. His story somehow became muddled after that. Nobody really talks about it in my family except that he was flamboyant and often changes cars and watches.
He subsequently converted to Islam and logically was allowed to marry a second wife (actually I doubt if there was consent by my mother). In my mind, it was a conversion of convenience after all, it made bigamy legal in the Malaysian govt eyes; besides being a Muslim meant easier access to job opportunities in Malaysia – after the Malays had a go first, I believe. At least that was my impression.
He comes back to Singapore about fortnightly albeit juggling between two families who are in essence at odds due to envy as well as anger for obvious reasons. We’ve never met all of our half-brothers or sisters. I remembered only one, that’s all. I must say that my mother was quiet about the whole thing. Never ever have I seen her upset or depressed over this (if she did it never showed). The whole marriage thing must have hurt her badly since my mother prior to her settling back to the role of homemaker, was also a teacher along with my dad. The second wife was also a colleague and good friend of my mother (imagine the sense of betrayal!). Nonetheless mother stoically soldiered on in life.
Dad was hardly home long. Only overnighters when he does come back. He never spent time getting to know us kids (maybe the older siblings). My older brother Fred and I didn’t for sure.
I have only two or three recollection of my personal moments with dad. One was when he stayed overnight and the following morning, gave me a ride to school. I was so overjoyed because dad brought me to school. We never spoke but that ride made my day. I was only primary 2 (second-grade) at age of 7 ½ yrs.
The other memory I had was when I was 11. we were playing football outside the flat along the corridor with neighbors, Ariff, Asli, Tee Kia, Fred, Ah Lek. It was a noisy but fun affair when my dad who was home then, came out without warning and whacked my right arm (cos I was nearest to our door). That effectively ceased all activities as our friends retreated to their own homes and Fred quieted. I didn’t cry nor protest. Only smile in defiance essentially.
Another experience I recalled was when we received word from my uncle (Dad’s younger brother) that Dad has passed away after suffering from lung cancer. We visited him only once at TTSH when he was ill. I didn’t know he was already suffering from cancer but I remember that he cried. Anyway, my uncle told us that my dad’s second wife didn’t want us to know and had wanted to carry on with the funeral without the other children of his around. My uncle couldn’t bear to do that so he came to inform us. We all went to the funeral and the woman was furious and hostile. An old neighbor who used to live in Waterloo Street asked if we wanted to smash up the funeral (he was a gangster) later since such inconsiderate behavior by the woman was manifested towards us -especially my mother whom I was surprised that she was so cool, calm and collected. While my older siblings wailed, my elder brother Fred and I didn’t. We tried to pretend that we did but ended up laughing because it was so silly and pretentious. Thankfully it didn’t incur the wrath of anybody.
I suppose in some ways I was angry with my dad. he was absent from our lives while we were growing up. I used to think how nice it would be if dad was around to provide for us financially – he didn’t. How much a difference it would make if he took interest in our education. He didn’t. He was parent-in-absentia.
I never know what it’s like to ask dad for advice. He was never around long enough to know if I had one. I never know what it is like to disagree with him for the same reason. But I remmeber wishing he was there for us but he didn’t.
We went through hardships but I guess you can say that it fortify us in different ways that was good for us. We can’t help not having dad around. It’s not our fault. Perhaps he has tried but he didn’t have the energy to do so. Would others have forgiven him?
I know I wouldn’t to be like dad. He was absent.
