The writer’s Abah with the bas sekolah van he made a living with. — Photo provided
In my possession are my Abah’s income/expense ledgers from the 1970s and 1980s. I revisit them now and then, and I cry over how hard life was back then and how he was without an income for much of November and all of December for most of those 20 years. There were, of course, people like Che’ Faridah and Arwah Hamid Rahmat, Arwah Datuk Kadir and Datuk Jalil who sympathised with my Abah’s struggles and were always exceptionally generous to him.
I know he had cash savings in banks, an Amanah Saham investment and his RM10 monthly compulsory Tabung Haji savings . But there were also a number of people who would “kapur” the RM8 monthly fee by paying/not paying it as they saw fit. All the evidence is there in his ledgers. In the end, Abah would ferry their kids for free.
I don’t know how he did it but he eventually managed to stockpile diesel and kept it under the stairs in our house, a place we called “kolong”. It was the coolest and darkest area, and I was not allowed anywhere near it. Every other afternoon, Abah would get me to help steady the makeshift metal funnel as he poured the diesel into the van's tank. I can almost smell it even now.
As I study my Abah’s ledger now, I feel ashamed – at how comparatively decadent my lifestyle is now, at how much I waste, and the things I take for granted. But I also love how meticulous he was with his records of how much he earned and spent. I feel especially proud of his grammatically perfect English and how he always balanced his income and expenses every month-end. He was responsible and accountable for every sen.