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"Everyone is working very hard because Hari Raya is just around the corner. The extra money will come in handy. But working hard is nothing new to me. After all, I am a woman"


Picture by Humans of Malaya


Sometime earlier this year, in the holy month of Ramadhan, a Facebook friend by the name of Mek Yam whom I came to know through my husband Ahmad Cendana posted the above photo on her timeline. The caption had me frozen for more than a few seconds, not really realising why. But there was something obvious in Mek Yam's comment, something that had inspired me to write this post spontaneously...her acute awareness and consciousness. She wrote:

"She's beautiful! imagine facing that heat and looking this cool, the amazing secret of the Malaysian woman."

Mek Yam posts and shares numerous amazing pictures everyday on her Facebook wall. Some are beautiful scenery from places all over the world, many are of adorable animals or plants, fruits and flowers of very rare species. Occasionally they are of unusual gadgets and foods. But I think, Mek Yam's favourite is photos of people, real people of all races and nationalities, tribes and communities. 

Many would have passed the seemingly blasé  picture above as just a normal, typical face of a Malay woman working for an income. But not Mek Yam...she saw something much more. She sees things in people many don't. And I believe she feels them too. 

The caption above and Mek Yam's comment had struck a chord in my heart and tugged at it, even as I write this. The woman above may be one who enjoys doing what she does and working just to supplement the household income. But there are countless women out there who have to struggle everyday and work hard to bring food to the table, education for the children and shelter for the family. 

Many have to do this without their own transport, equipped with ill-health, lack of sleep, food and nutrition and worse of all, without a husband for support. Some are literally without a husband by status, death or divorce. But the saddest are those who do have a husband, but one that instead of providing for the wife and children, lives off her. Just like a parasite. And the worse of all, men who not only expect the woman to put food on the table, but tops it all off with physical, mental and emotional abuse.

Sometimes I wonder, how the woman gets herself into such a situation. It may have started out as love, pity and then blind submission. I have written about women who can't find it in them to love themselves in my post A Bedtime Story. Either the woman is too weak to refuse her husband's demands and allows herself to be her husband's punch bag, or she is so strong that she is willing to takeover the role the family's breadwinner. I believe, it is the latter.

One thing for sure, many, if not most women would do it for her children. This is where she generates her strength. I suppose this is why God chose the women to carry babies for nine months in their bellies and not the men. Because, as the woman in the picture aptly puts it, "...working hard is nothing new to me. After all, I am a woman".



It's almost the end of October, and my husband Ahmad Cendana's birthday on the 12th of this month came and went without a post here for him. Not that it's in a pre-nuptial agreement or anything, it's just that we had "met" in his Recovery blog and I think it's nice to present him with a post on mine for each of his birthday. 

But things have been quite hectic, with Eidul Adha falling on the 15th, the introduction  of a new product and a few other "excitements" including a break-in at the clinic. Thank God nothing much was taken except for some money in a cash box, and all my remedies and equipment were left untouched by the intruder. 


Besides the time, energy and focus I'd have to give to this commitment, I knew what I would be facing once I start this upgrading exercise...tests, trials and tribulations. But my practice is almost my whole life, I don't know if there is anything that I wouldn't do for it. So I have to accept whatever is in store for me and brace myself. For nothing makes me happier than to know that God Almighty has granted healing and my patients are well after the treatments and healing sessions.

There isn't anyone who knows this better than my husband. And despite being married to him for more than two years now, it still surprises me that he seems to know exactly what I'm thinking or feeling. I hadn't expected him to be so supportive of what I do. I had told him that during the initiation period, I would have to do lengthy incantations after my Subuh prayers, and that it would extend way past dawn. At night I would be on the prayer mat from dusk for the Maghrib prayer right through Isyak prayer about an hour and a half later. 

That meant he'd have to wait for his breakfast which he looks very forward to. And at dinner time, he would have to help himself and eat alone. He would be left on his own while I attended full day classes. Yet he didn't protest or show any displeasure at all. My desire to commit myself further into spiritual healing didn't bother him one bit. In fact he seemed to be in full support of my decision. He was so understanding it moved me and almost made me cry.

I wonder if he realises how much his open-heartedness means to me. I know for a fact that many husbands would not allow their wives to do spiritual healing. Then there are those who are not in the least interested in what their wives do. Not only does my husband allow me but also vehemently supports what I do. Many times he even contributes when he opines on certain difficult cases I'm handling. He is genuinely interested and concerned in everything I do in relation to the practice, no matter how small or trivial. This is so crucial - it provides me the strength, motivation and inspiration I need. And my patients are the biggest benefactors of this synergy between us.


This marriage of ours is by no means by chance or coincidence; each and every happening was charted and planned by the Master of Plans. We both have seen the wonders of His superiority over every matter, at every angle. But the Master plan is far from completion and very much elusive to us. Many pieces in the jigsaw puzzle have yet to be placed and there will be uncertainties, misplacements and misjudgements all the way. 

But we know well enough that God's plans are so perfect we needn't be afraid of what's in store for us, and the pieces will eventually fit to form the big picture. Whatever happens, good or bad, it is, to His profound knowledge, the best for us and exactly what we need. As my husband says, we just have to keep doing the right things. Until we have fit all the pieces together, together.   







Today, the 9th of May is the birth date of my late father, Papak. I had wanted to write a short and simple tribute to him, and at the same time post some pictures of some of his personal mementoes he had left behind. I had promised my sisters that I'd do this, so that they can pick and choose from here, whatever they'd like as a keepsake.    

However, because of the recent developments in the wake of pre and post elections , I decided to reveal a little more about my father and his service to the country. It may not seem too significant to some people and true, there are many, many other government servants who had and are working very hard, honestly, sincerely with utmost loyalty, and to their very best of their ability. Some of the kind of work that they do, many others are not willing to do, and definitely not for the salary being paid. 

For instance, many, if not most people cannot and will not join the security forces. They have to undergo hard training, work under strict orders, be disciplined and most important of all, sacrifice their lives to provide us with security. Many are not willing to sacrifice this much, if only to be ridiculed, mocked and scorned by those who aren't even willing to do the job.     

Papak came from a small village called Kadok, which is in between Kota Bharu and Ketereh, Kelantan. He left his kampung at 18 years of age and got himself through school, after which he became a temporary teacher. He had wanted to pursue his education, but just didn't have the opportunity at that time. He settled for a job as an Assistant District Officer, but he aspired to have something much better for his family. 

He decided to leave Kelantan to work in Kuala Lumpur, and in 1963, with four children in tow, made the move to the big city. 


"Bila malas membaca buku-buku pelajaran samalah dgn tak mau pakai topi ni".
This is the flip side of the picture above. I'm not quite sure to whom he had directed this message to, but it reflects two things: his sometimes caustic ways, and the importance he put in possessing paper qualifications. It is also very possible, and very likely too that he had actually written it to motivate himself.

Papak had always been a civil servant.  On the darkest day Malaysia ever had, the May 13 1969 riots, Papak happened to be attached to the Ministry of Defence. I didn't really understand what was going on during that time but I remember hearing the word "curfew" being constantly repeated, especially by Mama. 

Despite the gravity of the situation I was feeling quite excited because the whole family, with the exception of Papak, was huddled together in front of the black and white television to listen to the news updates. It was read in four languages; first in Bahasa Malaysia, then in English, Mandarin and Tamil.

I remember clearly the superfluous supply of hard, dry, army issue biscuits in big green tins. It turned out that our family was provided with army food supplies because Papak was assigned to some duties which exposed him to danger. Apparently at one point, he encountered the antagonists head-on, but because he could converse in Hokkien and could pass off as a Chinese, he escaped from harm, and possibly even death. For many years after that, he would never allow us to unnecessarily leave the house on May 13.  


The casing which Abang Mat Cendana believes housed a Walter pistol. He never told us when and why he got to keep this but I believe it was during the insurgence. He was given permission to keep it as long as he renewed his licence but Papak surrendered it to the Police soon after he retired. Papak had access to a lot of highly confidential matters but he was so loyal to his Government he never revealed them, not even to us.

When Anwar Ibrahim was sacked smack in the middle of CHOGM in 1998, I was one of those who disagreed and protested, and even rallied with Keadilan Rakyat during the following elections. Papak was dead set against my decision, saying that I didn't know the real reasons why Tun Mahathir took drastic action against such a promising candidate for the next Prime Minister of Malaysia. I begged him to tell me, but he refused, saying that it was a matter of national security.  


I never got to know the truth; he had held it to his death bed. That was how loyal he was to the country. I trust my father and his judgement. More so now that I am more matured and able to see things more rationally. For all the government is worth, I know it is the safest for this moment. 

Maybe it's not the best, but it is up to me to do my part to make it better. I will not just simply forsake what the Government and it's servants like my father have worked so hard for,  just because I am unhappy, disagree and dissatisfied with a few things. 

The freedom and abundance of opportunities I have now weigh far more than the shortcomings. And these are the result of the opportunities my parents had. I am so syukur for that to Allah.  And besides, how am I to be sure that a different Government will make things better than it already is? 

It's true that developing the nation is the responsibility of the Government, but what if the Government isn't responsible? Is there absolutely no bribery, no cronyism, no discrimination, no racism and no sinners in the opposing parties, or could it be worse if they were in power? 


Papak was very strict at home and I believe at work he played it not only by the book but by the sentence and the word too. I dare say that he never condoned bribery and never accepted any form of kickbacks. I was around eight or nine years old when one day, just before the Eid celebration, a huge hamper of foodstuff was delivered to our home. I was watching from a distance away (takut!), and could barely hear his conversation with the sender. Suddenly I could hear his raised voice. He had told the man to take back the hamper immediately. 

During this time, Papak was in the Ministry of Home Affairs, and he was in charge of approving applications for  PR status, a very compromising position indeed. Some of those applying were very desperate, some even managed to find the house address and tried to see him at home, much to his annoyance. 

I remember in particular, a holiday in Australia for two was offered to him. He had turned it down flat. Of course at that time I was furious and disappointed that Papak threw away such a wonderful opportunity and an attractive "gift". Only later did I realise that it was a form of a kickback and as Papa was a man of integrity, he refused to accept it. He was also a man of strong principles and was God-fearing. 


Papa received the AMN medal (picture below) for his service with the Government. Not exactly a big deal as many civil servants are given this award, but I'm so proud of him anyway. Mama used to tell us that Papak would diligently draft reports and such, and  the final copy would always carry someone else's name. Due to the deep-seeded humility in him, he couldn't allow himself to take credit for the work he did. He was one who didn't revel in recognition and attention, and didn't even want or expect it. Someone in the family has inherited this characteristic. You know who you are. :-)  


Epaulettes (above) and buttons (below) from his service uniform.





His collection of cuff links. Papak was very particular with
his clothes and his dressing.


I had thought that Papak only started reading translations of the Quran later in his life, perhaps just before he retired. But apparently not - this copy of a translation dates back to 1953.




A birthday card he had sent to Mama  when she was in the United States studying for her degree at the age of 50. Giving of cards like this may seem pretty normal for many married couples but it is very unusual of  Papak. He normally wouldn't, or couldn't express his affections physically, verbally or even in writing. In this case he must have been extremely happy that Mama was pursuing a degree, despite having to be separated  from her for more than a year. 



Papak never had the opportunity to work in Putrajaya but he  admired Tun Mahathir's foresight and achievements. He made sure he visited the place, and with the help of a brother-in-law he was very fond of, managed to enter the PM's office and stand right beneath the dome. Coincidentally I had a little knowledge on domes and why many mosques have it, so it became a very significant and memorable moment standing beneath it, next to him. 
Papak was very IT-savvy so he appreciated Cyberjaya too, even when it was in the very initial stages. He even expressed interest in buying a smart house  there but he doubted that he would survive the completion of one. 
He was right, yet again.


Al-Fatihah.
May Allah SWT shower His rahmah on your soul Papak, and may you forever rest in peace in the highest of Jannah among the righteous, with the woman you so loved right beside you. 

Ameen, ameen Ya Rabbal a'lameen.


The first day of April may be a day of jokes to many, but for me, this date has become a revered day; it has been nothing less than special, magical even. It was this day in the year 2007 when I had read an extremely crucial article that had actually influenced a critical decision I had to make at that time. A decision that would determine my whole future, and perhaps even more importantly, my  eternal life. Read about the decision here.

And again, on this same date exactly three years ago, in this exact spot where I am sitting as I write this, I discovered the existence of a man, living in solitary 500 km away from me; he was living in sadness, loneliness and bitterness. He was desperate to make amends to the many mistakes he had made and suffering he had caused his children. He was a tortured soul whose life didn't turn out the way he wanted it to be. In fact it had gone terribly wrong. Or could it be that it had been right? He tells his life stories here.

My heart went out to that man and today, he is living with me as my husband. And again on the glorious first day of April, with Allah's Will, we had  made it officially the start of our practice in a brand new premise at a new commercial area in Kota Damansara known as Sunsuria, The Core. 




So many things had happened since 1 April 2010 I feel it's been thirty years that I've been with Ahmad Cendana and not three. But this must be one of the biggest events in our marriage life - it is a project that we had started together and finished together, and made all the decisions in between together. 

Ever since I started practising alternative medicine more than ten years ago, I had always wished that I would be doing it with my husband. I reckoned an ideal situation would be having someone not only as a life partner but also in business. Just a year before I had known and married Ahmad Cendana, I was resigned to the fact that my desire was nothing more than wishful thinking.

I never regarded my practice as a business and for this reason, I was not able to make it a viable entity that could sustain itself in the long term. Though I took the healing part very seriously, the business part was far from  healthyI did most things as I liked, without thinking much about profits.  For instance, the label on my products was designed purely because I liked it that way. I hadn't even considered whether it would appeal to consumers or not. Ahmad Cendana however for one reason or other, saw potential in it, and from very early on, had told me that he would help me develop my products and increase my turnover five-fold. 

"Wow!" I thought...just what I need, a business advisor! But I didn't take his claim very seriously. At that time, my attention and priority was on improving his health and straightening out his life. Not that mine was perfect but I just felt very strongly that I should do everything it takes to get him back on his feet again. 

Nevertheless he had already started thinking of ways to improve the business and was fine-tuning many aspects of my practice. He had thought about a LOT of things. In fact, he never stops thinking about things he would and could do for me.

His presence in my life has given me a lot of strength and confidence to do so much more for my practice. It is his complete support and belief in me, and of course his continuous du'as for me which lift my spirits to a level I had never achieved before.

I must say there were times when I had felt that maybe I should just stay at home and continue my practice at the house if I need to. I could actually just save and invest whatever money I had. After all, not only did I have a business advisor, he was also my own personal financial planner! Abang Mat had once aspired to be a remisier or dealer in the stock market, something I had not known till about a year ago. It's a bit too late for that, but he can now at least get involved again as a trader in the share market. Praises to Allah, The All-Knowing and The Master Planner, our matrimonial union has manifested with both our ardent desires being fulfilled. 

But of course my husband wouldn't hear of me going into early retirement. He knows what Islamic medicine and my practice mean to me. He knows of my intentions and future plans. He has made them important for him too.


Simply furnished without any frills, but with a lot of thought for the comfort of patients.

I have always wanted an office by the window! 


My furniture is almost 10 years old; almost as old as my practice and they've heard and seen many, many stories and incidents. 


My clinic for women only is more than a treatment centre.
It is an experience for the mind, body and soul.  

2007, 2010 and now in 2013, the first of April in these years have been so significant and full of sweet memories for us. But what is sweetest is the fact that all these wonderful things that have happened and are happening to us - they were never planned nor expected. The journey has only just begun but we are thankful for each day we have each other, thankful for this chance to make up for the many first of Aprils we have let slip by.



Mama and Papak, picture taken in the 
early seventies.

It has been almost five months since the passing of my beloved Mama and more than seven years since that of Papak. I had thought that I had more or less gotten over the loss, alas it is not to be. My sister Yan, whom Mama had stayed with after Papak's death, and I, had the task of going through her personal things, sorting them and distributing them so that each of my other siblings would have mementos of her to keep. 


The task was far more daunting than I thought it would be. There were objects, notes, letters that brought on memories and of course, melancholy. There are still many things that I don't know about Papak and Mama; Papak was a very serious man who didn't talk very much and Mama was always occupied with something. She had always kept herself busy with cooking, gardening, sewing, reading, and yes, she wrote too. She and a sister, arwah Hajjah Esah Hamzah, had written two text books for Domestic Science students back in the seventies. 

Going through Papak and Mama's certificates and thinking about their struggles, hard work, commitments and achievements, made me realise that I haven't done any justice to their sacrifices. Papak especially, had made a quantum leap where his standard of living and quality of life are concerned.   

Mek, my grandma
My late grandfather's house in Beta

From a small remote kampung in Kelantan called Kadok, he had risen up the economic strata, managed to save and buy a detached house in Damansara Heights back in 1969, which became a prime location very soon after. He did this by equipping himself with education and knowledge, with honest, hard work and keeping to a very strict money management policy.



Tok Ayah, my grandfather





Though his parents had a lot of land, they didn't have very much money. They (Papak's parents, my grandparents) themselves didn't get any education besides writing and reading in Jawi, but Mek, my grandmother, apparently was a driving force where education for her children was concerned. Her unconventional teaching methods were related in a comment on Facebook where my aunt, Papa's youngest and only sister seemed to reminisce with much wit and warmth, despite the seemingly harsh treatment from her brother and mother. 




My grandma's teaching methods on my aunt apparently were nothing less than effective - she later went on to become the Dean, Faculty of Education, University of Malaya. Read all about Professor Dr. Datin Rahimah Ahmad here. Papak was very proud of his little sister and had once said to me, "Ja, make Ciksu your role model." 

Having been promoted to the status of the eldest child after the death of his oldest brother, Papak had to study and work very hard to make sure that not only he, but also his three younger siblings got their education. At a very young age, he had to ride a bicycle made for an adult so he would be able to use it for many years. The distance to the nearest school was five miles (eight kilometres) and he had to leave home at 5 a.m. in the morning everyday. 

He eventually left home on his own initiative to attend secondary school at the renowned Penang Free School. Despite the odds, he had attained results that were good enough to earn a scholarship for further education. My aunt believes that he was the first Malay student to obtain Grade 1 in the GCE examination at PFE. 


He had wanted so much to go overseas to study. But during the interview the education officer then had told him, "I can't give you the scholarship (to go overseas), I don't know your parents."



Papak was devastated, but the bitter disappointment and humiliation taught him not one but a few important and valuable lessons about life. From then on, it spurred him to make massive changes in his life. He was not bent on being discriminated by being a "nobody" and let it become a reason for not getting an education overseas. He tore himself from his roots and made his own way into the city, where he gained excess to more knowledge and opportunities. He exposed himself to western cultures and adopted the finer things in life as much as he could afford to, and learned the art of of table manners and social etiquette. 



Most of these are Papak's books, comprising the holy Quran, the translations and other kitabs by Muslim scholars and famous ulamas. He had made notes, underlined or highlighted important points just as a student would while studying a text book.  I volunteered to be custodian of these books as they are relevant to my practice. He also had a collection of novels; his apparent favourite was Jeffrey Archer, and possibly had all the titles in his collection. Besides religion and politics, Papak was also very keen on management, namely business and finance.   
  
Papa learnt the English language by reading books, lots of them. He made all his children speak in proper English at home and fed us with reading material only in English. He was passionate about reading right up to his old age. He kept up with the latest in every subject, and was ahead of many people generations younger than his where IT was concerned. He was even reading the newspapers online. At the age of 74 in 2005, he was in contact with some of his grandchildren studying overseas and some friends by Yahoo Messenger.


On a lighter note, I did get quite excited because I had also found things and memorabilia that had escaped my attention and interest before. For instance, I never knew that he had obtained two masters degrees. He was constantly at his study table writing and reading some thing or other, and little did I know that he was doing long-distance learning! 






Mama was no less passionate about learning and education. A teacher herself, she later went on to become a headmistress and then an officer at the Ministry of Education. She was responsible for designing the curriculum, syllabus and the setting up of vocational schools for girls in Malaysia in the seventies. She used to travel all over the country to oversee the running of these schools, often driving in her Morris Mini Minor alone.

Mama went to Kirby Teacher's Training College in.England and my dear cousin and family historian had provided me with this link which leads to an article which mentions her name. This article dated 25th May 1953 was published in The Singapore New Straits Times.

One of Mama's memorable moments was when she was the principal in Sekolah Menengah Batu in KL. She taught the Domestic Science students to make karipap pusing  or curry puffs. When HRH Princess Anne of England came to Malaysia in 1972, she paid a visit to this school. Mama and her students had served her royal highness with these curry puffs and at the end of the visit, her aides had whispered to Mama requesting for more to take back with them. 
Pix of Karipap Pusing taken from Wattie's HomeMade

Amongst their children, it can be said that only my eldest sister Professor Azni follows the tradition in education and academia. She became the Deputy Vice Chancellor of UiTM after Papak's demise, but I know for a fact that he was awfully proud of her even when she had graduated with a PhD. He'd normally not show any emotion, much less pride for any of his children's achievements, but I guess by that time he had mellowed and just couldn't contain his happiness any longer - his eldest daughter had fulfilled his dreams. 

As for me, I was a very late starter; but I do hope it's not too late though. After my SPM, Papak had secretly arranged and literally forced me to attend a  matriculation programme. Little did I realise that I was sitting in a class for pre-medical students until advanced Biology and Chemistry were being taught! I immediately called him and pleaded with him to bring me back home so I could pursue my own choice of studies which was Business.

At that time, to him, anything that's not science, is not studying. My refusal to study medicine was much to his dismay, but he just couldn't see his youngest daughter so forlorn. So he relented, but ironically, twenty years later, I had started attending classes to fulfil an unexpected desire for an education in Alternative Medicine. 

It was the beginning of the turnaround in my life. Of course I realise the wisdom of Papak then, how right he was about the potential and the future of his children.

Papak, I'm sorry but I have not been able to achieve that much, I'm not even anywhere close to what you may have expected of me, but I promise that I will try and do my best in life, that should make you proud just as muchThat would make all your sacrifices worthwhile and all your efforts justified. 

And now, living with a husband who thrives on books, knowledge, literary skills and intellectual stimulation, it's like coming to a complete cycle in my life. I have finally come home. 

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