My growing up days were actually influenced a lot by 2 amazing women, who were extremely patient with all my quirks and behaviours, of which many difficult to handle. As I look back to my younger days, as much as I don’t think I will change anything (ok maybe some parts of it like maybe try be more popular with girls – hahaha!), I know I wasn’t an angel with a clean sheet especially during my teenage years. I can easily be categorised as one of those rebellious teenager, although at times didn’t seem as one (what I tell myself – probably looked like a typical, annoying brat). It was fun days for me – probably not so much for them.
The women are none other than my mum, Normah and my nanny, Salmah or I fondly call Kak Mah.
I remember my secondary school days where I grew up in the streets of Damansara Uptown, where I would frequent snooker centres after school with my homies (who used to chill and sleepover at my place a lot too) coming home just close to Maghrib. On weekends I will be out till midnight hanging out at “maplei”, which then evolved to the famous Damansara uptown hawkers stalls (it had its high time and was famous at a point in time). Basically we were hanging out at mamak stalls where we would spent a ringgit or two drinking a glass of teh tarik for as long as we can and only catching the last bus home. Sometimes me and good friend Ayol would miss the bus and ended up walking back home from Damansara Utama to Taman Tun Dr Ismail (where I stayed back then) with him ending up sleeping at my place as usual (it was like his second home).
There will always be that legendary night where me and another 5 of my friends (including Ayol) had to walk back home from Stadium Merdeka in KL after watching a football match between Sabah vs. Pahang that extended into extra time (funny thing is that none of us where rooting for any of the teams – but we got our faces painted anyway). Obviously with the game finishing later than expected, we missed the last bus. We only it realised after waiting at “Bus Stand Klang” (near Central Market) for half an hour – one of us finally found the courage (more like the wisdom – so naive back then) to ask one of person sitting around there. I only had RM1 in my pocket, just enough for the bus ride home.
We were 14.
So – with no money, no handphones back then and just a pair of legs each, we walked back home from Stadium Merdeka to Taman Tun Dr Ismail (me and Ayol – the other 4 up to Damansara Utama). It was raining half way. We took rest and naps at few points – the last one at BHP near PJ. It took us about 6 hours to reach home, just after Subuh (as we were walking by Masjid Mujahidin, Damansara Utama – the Subuh azan echoed).
I can only imagine how my mum and Kak Mah was feeling back then – they would have been worried like crazy (I think and hope so). Ruzain’s 14 this year – I can’t imagine how I would feel if I was in the same shoes.
This was just one of the many instances as I was growing up – there were many more. I wasn’t bad or anything – probably just a bit naughty. But definitely, can be a handful.
My mum’s parenting approach was definitely different – not sure whether she purposely intended for it to be that way or it’s because of her timid character. For example is the way she dealt with me hanging out at snooker centres after school, which I only I got to know about when I as much older. Instead of confronting me, she decided to trail me in a cab (she doesn’t drive) and checked out where I went. She never made any appearance – I never knew she was there.
Is her approach right? I don’t know, but against my personality – I think it was the best.
It’s the trust she gave and the loving approach that probably kept me in check at all times. Every time it came to moments of crossing any lines or boundaries, I always held back remembering her. She even extended this approach to my friends who frequent hanging out and sleeping over at my place – no judgements for any of them. There was one instance where Ayol actually skipped school (he would sometimes randomly pull a runaway from home stunt) at my place and I went to school – basically he was left alone at home with my mum and Kak Mah. All my mum did was gave him a nice prep talk – from a basic question of “Why won’t you go to school Ayol?”, with her ever motherly tone. He went to school the next day.
Kak Mah on the other hand supported my mum in raising me up – most times just pampering me. I had all my growing up years eating the most delicious healthy home cooked food. She is a superb cook famous among family and friends. My friends would look forward to the famous “Nasi Goreng Kak Mah” – just simple chilli fried rice with beef and sometimes prawn, which is to die for hungry and hyperactive teenagers like me and my friends. A big bowl of it would disappear in just a matter of minutes. I actually miss those times quite a bit.
But the thing was I didn’t have as much appetite as I have as an adult so I never really ate that much and was skinny – probably underweight. I also had (still have but not so bad) limited choices of food I take – choosy eater who didn’t eat spicy food (now I realised it’s not that I couldn’t, I was just picky). Irony was my late dad was from Kedah (couldn’t live without his curry) and my mum loved the spicy “cili padi”. Because of the various characters in the house with different preferences of food, Kak Mah had to cook a selection of dishes for every meal – and if my dad is around that means 5 meals: breakfast, lunch, teatime, dinner and supper. She juggled cooking with all the other chores at home – cleaning it up (which she technically sweeps the house everyday), washing our cloths, etc. We used to joke that she is the real Superwoman and could take on Superman. I once (actually many times) saw her caught and kill a fly with her barehands – only someone with some sort of super power or special kung fu training could have done that.
She pampered all of us – but more so me. I won’t share the embarrassing details that would depict me as a spoilt brat. In actual fact, I went along with it because I knew it made her happy (again something I tell myself to feel less guilty).
So – what exactly did they influence me with considering all these stories I’m sharing that just embarrassingly reveals how spoilt I was as they dote on me? It’s the unconditional love, non-judgmental approach and kindness they give to everyone around them. Their influence has formed a big part of who I am – and I credit the better parts of me to both of them. I sincerely think if it wasn’t because of them, pulling me back every time I drifted away with their love and patience, providing me that safe place called home – I wouldn’t be where I am, standing as the Najib I am today.
The women that had influenced me – I love you.
