60 years ago, 'Malaya was as good as a village on Mars' to Sarawak folk


Desmond Davidson

Ahid Bohari and his daughter, Norasyida, at his laksa stall at Medan Kubah Ria in Kuching. The story of the cook and proprietor of Chef Ahid Laksa is about an East Malaysian’s consciousness of nationhood and of growing into a Malaysian identity. – The Malaysian Insight pic, September 3, 2017.

THE story of a nation is seen in the lives of its people. The Malaysian Insight speaks to citizens who were born in 1957 and are as old as Malaya’s independence. Their stories are a glimpse of what being Malaysian means to them.

Ahid Bohari is as old as Malaya has been independent from the British, but for the cook and proprietor of Chef Ahid Laksa in Kuching, Merdeka was an event he had not heard of until he was in Form One.

Neither did he know about Malaysia’s formation in 1963 until his first year in secondary school.

That was just the way things were in the backwaters of Sarawak 60 years ago, when villages were cut off from the rest of the world and there was nothing that could be called “infrastructure”.

Ahid’s story is about an East Malaysian’s consciousness of nationhood and of growing into a Malaysian identity.

Malaya was as good as a village on Mars. Villagers in my kampung only wanted to go to Kuching,” said the man of Malay-Sambas descent, who is the sixth of eight siblings.

Life was tough, he recalls, as his father, who was a carpenter, earned around 30 Sarawak dollars a month.

“In those days, it was not very much,” said Ahid, who was born and grew up in Kampung Lubok Boyak.

“Things we take for granted now, like a bar of soap, were a luxury then. My siblings and I would often bathe without soap.”

Ahid, a former Tourism Malaysia officer, also remembers the family’s bathroom as the Sarawak River that flows past his village.

“Now, this is the fun and carefree part. Jumping into the river, and swimming and catching fish to supplement the family’s food were some of the joys of my childhood.”

Kampung Lubok Boyak, which literally means “crocodile creek”, is now just 16km from the state capital of Kuching, but in the 1960s, it was in the middle of thick jungle.

In the 1970s, it was a war zone during the communist insurgency.

There was no road in or out of the village, Ahid recalls.

To get to Kuching, villagers would have to first take a sampan upriver, in the opposite direction of Kuching, to the riverine town of Batu Kitang on the Kuching-Bau road. From there, they would then catch Sarawak Transport buses to town.

We were in our own world. We didn’t have TV, and the people in the village were too poor to own a radio and too illiterate to read the newspaper,” said Ahid.

Significant historical events, like Malaya’s independence from Britain, and Sarawak’s agreement to the formation of Malaysia together with Sabah and Singapore in 1963, passed as another uneventful day in the village.

“I didn’t know about Malaya’s independence or about Malaysia until I was in Form One. We just didn’t know what was going on outside our village, except from bits and pieces from those who had returned from Kuching.

“And even if someone mentioned Malaya’s independence, probably no one in Kampung Lubok Boyak knew what it meant.”

There was a sense of change, however, when he began noticing the absence of British soldiers who had patrolled the village during the Confrontation with Indonesia.

In their place were local soldiers, still wearing British-style military uniforms, but bearing a different insignia.

“Malaysia made a difference for Sarawak”

Ahid began learning a little about Malaysia in Form One, when he moved to Kuching to continue his secondary-level education.

Before that, he had only ever been to Kuching twice as a trip there was beyond the means of most villagers.

The first time he went was to watch the now-famous Sarawak regatta, and the second trip was to make his identity card at the age of 12.

“I moved to Kuching to attend Form One. I was actually one of only six people in my whole village who passed the Common Entrance Examination. None of my siblings before me passed the exam.”

A mandatory pass was required in the public exam, which all Year Six pupils had to sit for if they wanted to continue their secondary education in government schools or government-aided schools.

Ahid studied at SMK Tun Abang Haji Openg and obtained the Sarawak Cambridge qualification.

The school was named after the first Sarawak governor upon the state’s independence from Britain and the formation of Malaysia in 1963. Abang Haji was also the father of the state’s current chief minister, Abang Johari Openg.

Despite gaining knowledge, the significance of Malaya and Malaysia did not register with Ahid. He said it was only much later in life, as a working adult, did he begin to understand the country’s history.

“Come to think of it, Malaysia made a lot of difference to Sarawak,” said Ahid, who has also held jobs as a part-time teacher and a clerk with Bank Negara Malaysia.

His first salary as a part-time teacher was RM180 a month.

It was good of our forefathers to agree to Sarawak being part of Malaysia. I see younger Malaysians in rural areas now having a better life than I did. I see a lot of physical development taking place. There are also more opportunities in education locally, unlike Sarawak in the 1970s, when there were no options.

Pursuing a tertiary education back then meant studying abroad, something out of the question for Ahid’s family.

Years later, he was able to sign up for off-campus study at Institut Teknologi Mara (now Universiti Teknologi Mara) to get a diploma, which led to a promotion as a Tourism Malaysia officer. He even landed a plum posting in Australia.

Ahid tasted failure when he left Tourism Malaysia to become a travel and tour entrepreneur. It did not work out for him, and to support his family and six children’s education, he took on jobs as a cleaning supervisor and car salesman, among others.

Now with his children taken care of, Ahid is doing what he says he likes best: cooking.

His eatery serves up one of the most talked about Sarawak laksa in Kuching, and even Prime Minister Najib Razak had a taste of the dish during a visit to the state not too long ago.

Former chief minister, the late Adenan Satem, was also a regular customer.

Ahid’s laksa business helped him support his children’s studies to eventually become an engineer, a teacher and an airline cabin crew member.

He said the family’s quality of life had improved, but as this went up, so did the cost of living and corruption.

His biggest disappointment as a Malaysian is its corruption.

My hope is when they mark Malaysia Day on September 16, the leaders will pledge to get rid of corruption in this country.” – September 3, 2017.


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