“The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” – William Arthur Ward, American Writer
I received a message on my Facebook a few days ago from a former student of my late dad, Yee Mun Mow (余漫谋). She had attended the recent wake. A classmate who is now based in Indonesia is in town and wanted to meet with me. I agreed. Four of them met with my brother and I at a coffeeshop in Siglap, not far from where my dad used to live in. They were from Yock Eng High School in the 1970s.
The former student is an Indonesian. He had come to Singapore to study in the middle of Primary 4. My dad taught him Math. He shared that dad’s explanation was very clear and laid the foundation for him to do well in Math because he could understand the concepts. What other teachers would take weeks to explain, he understood in a single lesson. In Primary 5, dad taught him again, this time in Art and Moral Education. In Primary 6, he was their form teacher and Chinese teacher as well.
He shared that outside of his own dad, my dad was the one who influenced him the most. I was surprised. Dad only taught him for 2.5 years. He told us that dad taught widely, often beyond the syllabus but in a very clear manner. It inspired him to love the Chinese language. You have to bear in mind that he came at 10 years old to Singapore. The Chinese language was banned in Indonesia since the 1960s from the start of the Suharto’s administration until Suharto fell from power in the late 1990s. It was illegal to sell or distribute any materials with Chinese text in it. Yet he picked up the language fast and excelled in school. He went on to an English medium school, where he naturally topped the school in Chinese. He returned to Indonesia at the end of Secondary 2, where the language continued to be banned. He credited his continued interest in the language to the strong foundation that dad gave him. Other than that, he and the rest too shared that dad took an interest not just in their studies but also in their personal well-being. For another student, he advised her to apply to Nanyang Girls High because he saw the potential in her to do well. She made it to NYGH and remained grateful that dad took an interest in her future.
They shared old memories, including their visit to dad at his home and could even name the dishes that dad cooked for their dinner. They recall his old yellow-coloured round Fiat car and how dad dressed humbly. Dad was strict with his students, yet caring as a teacher.
We parted today’s dinner as new-found friends. One of them texted this to me shortly after:
一位好的老师 不在于他教学生的时间有多长 而在于 对学生好的教诲有多深 影响有多远
纪念我们敬爱的 永远怀念的 小学五、六年级（1975、76） 的华文老师 余漫谋先生
The above translates as a teacher who is good is not about how long he had taught the students, but how deep he had left the impressions and how far the influence had gone. It is heartening to know that dad’s influence had reached far and long. He may have taught them only briefly, but the fact that they sought me out to tell me these really touched me. Thank you.
Ecclesiastes 3:4 “a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,”
There are seasons for joy, and sometimes seasons of sorrow. Being in a large family, dad has his share of sorrow in his earlier years. His elder sister died in her 20s of childbirth after delivering her third child. The child was safe but the mother had lost too much blood and bled to her death. Two of his younger sisters (my 3rd and 6th aunt) died young – one of high fever as a toddler and another as a baby of illness. His 3rd brother was killed in a explosion in a factory near the goldsmith shop in Gopeng at around 10 years old – he was watching workers in a factory do metal work when a furnace exploded near him, causing over 80% burns. Otherwise, those on my dad’s side live to ripe old ages.
My mum’s side has a history of short life. Her dad – my granddad passed away in his sleep of heart attack at around 50. Grandma lived only a few years longer, dying also of heart attack in her sleep. Mum’s youngest brother, died at around the same age as his dad, also of heart attack in his sleep. My mum survived the longest, also suffering a heart attack but at 78 – long enough to see all her grandchildren being born. Mum had early stage dementia too a few years before she passed on. That resulted in some difficult moments for dad too.
The start of my parents’ later years in life was marked by a massive tragedy – the death of my elder brother in his mid 20s. Depression is real and sadly, can be deadly. It changed many things. Mum asked for the earliest possible retirement. Dad, ever the doer, continued to work for as long as he could. It hit them really hard as it would any parent who cares for their children. I think dad continued to blame himself throughout his life, though I do not think it was his fault.
Slowing Down
For the longest time, my parents never travelled beyond Singapore and Malaysia. Malaysia trips were almost always by dad’s driving. There could have been exceptions when I was a baby, because I had to travel between Singapore and Gopeng, where I was cared for. The doctors discovered quite soon after my birth that I had a hole-in-the-heart. Nevertheless, grandparents cared for me but I was told that I had to return to Singapore for medical checks as a baby, none of which of course I can remember. I was only told by relatives that I was the ‘lucky one’ who got to fly.
When I was in secondary school, dad helped mum’s brother with a housing investment in Singapore which he made some money. He rewarded my parents with a trip to Japan. My parents came back so happy with their first ever flying holiday to a faraway place. Thereafter, they travelled more extensively, during the long holidays, to China, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, New Zealand and Europe. When retired, they joined some gardening club and had a super long trip to China and the group kept in touch quite regularly back in Singapore until one by one, they grew old or passed on (We contacted one of the still surviving members of that group for the wake and she left a very emotional voice message in a teary voice for dad). China was their most regular destination. When I started working, I also managed to bring them on shorter trips to Malaysia, Cambodia, Vietnam and Indonesia. They also went with my siblings to many places such as NZ, Japan, HK, Korea, UK (where dad first experienced snow) and more.
He was a doting grandfather. He lived mostly with my brother’s children and helped them with their homework, mostly in Chinese and Art. He would helped them complete their art assignments like how he did for mum when they were still dating at TTC! He also helped occasionally with my children’s Chinese.
Dad, mum, 2nd uncle and his wife and my sister in New Zealand. It was a chanced meeting between dad and uncle as they both booked the travel with different tour companies. Must be the telepathy between brothers that got them to meet while both families were holidaying.
At Hong Kong Disneyland
At Jeju, 2015 with my brother’s children
Dad working on an art piece to help one of my nieces or nephew. His art was self taught.
Calligraphy by dad for one of his grandchild. He was naturally good with his handwriting.
The masterchef at work. He cooked till less than a month before he was rushed to hospital. Only tasty food came out of his kitchen. Mum hardly cooked, except for her specialty Hainanese chicken rice which we will get once in a few months.
Dad drove till he was around 85. We forgot to send him for the annual medical report necessary for elderly folks to continue driving and he decided not to drive anymore. He would often fetch his grand children around when he could drive.
The Celebrations
Dad and mum got to see their remaining three children get married and have a total of eight grandkids. Dad got to see his great grandson from my eldest daughter. In April 2023, he celebrated his 90th birthday with baby Isaiah, who was also celebrating his first month. He also got to see a second wedding of his granddaughter, my 2nd daughter. Whenever his children or grandchildren did well, you can be sure that he would go and tell relatives and you could tell how proud he was.
A growing tribe at first grandchild’s wedding
Tea ceremony at the wedding of another grandchild
A beaming newly minted Great Granddad on his 90th birthday
My graduation with MSc and birth of the first grandchild
First wedding of their children – that of my sister
Dad the Investor
Dad was always cautious. Grandpa and Grandma invested in shares, mostly blue chips in Malaysia and did well. Dad picked up investing and also had some good investments of Singapore and Malaysian blue chip companies. With the economic boom for Singapore and Malaysia in the 70s to 90s, many of his investments did well to see through his retirement and the occasional overseas trips. In his later years, he would chase FD interest rates in banks. Even at 90 before his final illness, he could remember exactly which FD would be expiring when.
When I started an internet education business in 2000, dad readily put in I think $80,000 into it with the pioneer group of investors. I was glad to be able to give him good returns when we sold the business 7 years later. Otherwise, he would never invest in any non-listed companies.
The Worrier
Dad worries over just about everything. It was like that when we were young and probably he grew to worry more as he aged. I recall when I was in secondary school and college, if I forgot to tell him that I would be late, he would start to worry by 9 pm. Several times, he dug up my telephone book (yes, in the old days we do not have handphones and we record house telephone numbers on small books) and start calling all my friends down the list to check if I was with them. When I passed driving and started using his car, sometimes I would go for late night drives with friends, particularly when free after National Service duties. He would sometimes be up walking the nearby streets trying to find me!
The grandkids staying with him all have their share of him worrying over their studies, their sleeping late and all things imaginable. Even with me in my 50s now, he continued to worry over the things that I do. It is just his way.
I think the one that got him the most worried was when I joined the Workers’ Party in GE2011 as its candidate for Joo Chiat SMC, the very ward that they had lived in. I suspected that he might have some objections so I waited till it was quite close for me to be introduced by the Party to the public to break the news to mum and him. Surprisingly, the initial reaction was almost nothing. It would have been a week or more later when my name surfaced in newspapers and I was interviewed by the TV that all the worst possible scenarios came to him. I got a call from him one night after CNA interviewed me. It started with him asking me to pull out. I told him that I could not as I had already been introduced to the public. Technically, nomination was not done yet and the election date not yet announced, so I could actually withdraw. But I felt it was irresponsible of me to do so after committing to the candidacy. He became more desperate in his tone, pleading at one stage with “我求求你…” (I beg you). He said that mum was worried and insisted to him to get me to pull out. He cited how many principals and teachers he knew of were imprisoned or lost their job. That would have included how he ended up filling a teaching vacancy in Lee Hua Primary in the early 1960s because seven from the school were terminated. It was most painful to hear dad pleading so intensely with me. I could only promise him that I would steer clear of things that could get me into libel suits or trouble.
Dad and mum were originally supposed to be on my list of assentors for nomination in GE2011. Every candidate would need a minimum of six voting residents in the constituency to support the nomination. He said he could not do it as mum would be worried. I told him I would be able to find enough assentors. Even in his state of worry on my participation, he offered to be made a backup in case on Nomination Day an assentor fail to show up. He even called me on Nomination Day to check if he was needed. We never had to.
Despite his huge worry over my participation, when the campaign started, he asked for our flyers and went around to give to neighbours whom he knew. He would take these to coffeeshops and give to the stall owners to tell them to vote for his son. A funny story was that I had also gotten a coffeeshop operator in Siglap enthusiastic about our campaign. When dad went to order food from him, the food operator whipped up my flyer and told dad to vote for me. Dad proudly pronounced, “That’s my son!”.
We had a day in which we would visit houses in his immediate neighbourhood. He asked for a WP blue volunteer T-shirt and insisted of going with me to find neighbours that he knew. Such was my dad – even in his worries, he wanted to see me do well and would do what he could.
Visiting neighbours during GE2011 with dad
Dad putting up GE2020 poster outside his gate at Opera Estate. He and mum never voted for any party until GE2011, when I contested in where he lived at. He had colleagues and acquaintances locked up without trial during Operation Coldstore. But since GE2011, he would put up our posters proudly outside his gate which I never asked him to. Dad the worrier who avoided politics like poison, yet proud to tell everyone to vote for his son and team mates.
A Song for Dad
Recently, I heard a Chinese song. I checked out its lyrics. It looked like it was perfectly written for us. We were fortunate that the hospital alerted us on his last moments to come as soon as we could, and gave us a private room. All of us gathered to say what we needed to him. We managed to play this song for him even as he was gasping for breath due to the havoc wreaked by the cancer in his lungs.
The father described in the song is one who is strong, who held up the family by what he did. Yet his hands are gentle and warm. The songwriter wished for time to slow down and not let father age. Watching my dad age and deteriorate so rapidly in the final months had been really painful for us. Dad had been relatively healthy, was walking about the neighbourhood on his own, and had beaten prostate cancer. All of a sudden, he became bed bound, sometimes not even able to feed himself. I feel, and we all felt, we could have done more for him. When I was young, dad was the person I looked up to. He was the strong figure of the house, no doubt strict with us to want us to do well. He was the capable one who could do so many things – cook, write calligraphy, recite poems, play all sorts of sports, take good photographs, drive long distances, fix stuff in the house, and find ways to make money to give us special treats. I wanted to do well to make him proud. Dad, you have spent your whole life worrying for us. You can rest in peace. We have all grown up. You have done what you could. Thank you.
Dad and mum got married in 1960, the same year they graduated from TTC, and became Chinese language teachers in different schools. Mum became expectant the next year. My mum’s dad visited them in Singapore and told dad to buy a house instead of spending a good part of the then-low teachers’ salaries on the rental house on Everton Road (That rental house is today a new condominium, and opposite to the community hospital that dad would eventually pass away in 64 years later). Granddad advised that they would soon have a child and perhaps more. Space will be needed. That was probably the best investment decision dad and mum made. They took a mortgage for a S$20,000 double-storey terrace house at Opera Estate in Siglap. Kg Chai Chee at the back of the house was literally a Kampung with pigs, chicken and vegetable farms until about 10 years after they had moved in. I remembered as a very young child, farmers coming to collect waste food from the back of our house and giving us eggs during Chinese New Year.
My sister was born in 1961, my elder brother in 1963 and I in 1965. Life was challenging for the young couple to teach full time and handle three children. They had to plan their teaching shifts so that one would teach morning and the other afternoon session (schools were double sessions in those days). Grandpa (on dad’s side in Gopeng) offered to look after me. I went off to live in northern Malaysia for over 2 years. I remembered nothing of my stay there other than from photos and what people told me of Gopeng. But my earliest memory of life was when dad and mum fetched me back from Gopeng, brought me to the Opera Estate house and told me that this is my new home and I was to live well with my sister and brother.
Dad with firstborn – my elder sister with his first car in his new house at Opera Estate
Dad with the first 3. Author is on lap. Looks like the age when I finally returned to Singapore to stay for good.
My earliest memory of the schools that dad taught in was Yock Eng High (in the primary section). Mum was then teaching in Kong Hwa Primary. Both were not too far from our home. I remember these because I attended kindergarten in mum’s school and dad would bring me and sometimes my siblings as well to school because he had to work and there was no one else to look after us. Hence, Yock Eng (now CDAC HQ in Tanjong Katong) was a regular playground for me. Sis attended Kong Hwa School, which was then a Chinese medium school. The education policy in Singapore was changing. Dad could speak a little English. Mum could not speak English. Dad recognised that for us to survive in the newly independent Singapore, we had to be good in English. So my brother and I were sent to St. Stephen’s, and we later followed everyone else in class to St. Patrick’s. Dad figured that if they could not teach us English, the school would. We would get sufficient exposure to mandarin at home. Sis however, continued in Chinese medium schools till she entered university, as she had already started from primary one.
I am not sure how long dad taught at the small Wen Xuan Primary at Neil Road. It was not for very long, because the school was small, enrollment was dwindling and dad felt it was better to move to a bigger school. An opportunity opened up in a turbulent Singapore. The principal and 6 teachers at Lee Hua Primary at 7th mile of Yio Chu Kang road were terminated or imprisoned for being involved in alleged communist activities. That was in the early 1960s and some could have been those imprisoned without trial during Operations Coldstore. They were members of the Barisan Sosialis, which was competing for power with the PAP as a split away group. Dad filled one of the teaching vacancies. Hence his aversion for politics. He never told any of us how he and mum voted in each general election when as kids, we pestered them after each GE to ask. I only knew after I had entered politics myself, ironically in the camp that he feared most because he saw for himself colleagues whose lives, careers and sometimes even families were destroyed due to being in opposition politics. He never voted for any political party – he and mum spoiled every one of their votes because they were afraid of being accused by whichever that won if they voted otherwise. It was only when I took part in the GEs that they made extra effort to make sure that they crossed only once and where my name was.
The old Yock Eng High – image from a 1972 yearbook
From a Yock Eng High’s 1972 year book – as a Primary 6 teacher. I remembered dad teaching mainly in Pri 6 or upper levels while mum taught the lower levels at Kong Hwa School.
One of several continuing education courses dad attended while teaching
A new birth – mine, and a reason to go to the photo studio
A final addition to the family and a reason to be at the photo studio again – birth of my younger brother in 1972
Dad taught for a long time at Yock Eng High, until it was about to become a secondary only school in 1985. I think he was transferred to Jln Daud Primary, a government school, which soon merged into Jaya Primary and then into East Coast Primary. After retirement, he continued to teach as a relief Chinese teacher in nearby schools and did examination invigilation in schools and in Temasek Polytechnic.
I am not too familiar with his work because he does not talk very much about it at home. I overheard him once complaining to mum about being passed over for a promotion into a leadership position, perhaps a Senior Assistant or some HOD type of position. I sensed that he had the ambition to go higher but remained a teacher. One of the subjects he would usually teach was art, because he was naturally good with his hands. He taught himself art and was good with calligraphy. Some of his more enthusiastic students would even come to our house to do cooper tooling and other more hands-on art that needed more time. I remember one, around my age, who was not particularly good with his academic subjects. However, he was good with his hands and loved to come to our house to do his pieces. He was one of those that took more years to graduate from primary school. After he had left school, he continued to visit us especially during Chinese New Year. He did well and became the owner of a motor oil distribution company somewhere in Defu Lane. I believe that his was one of the lives my dad had touched and changed. Two of his students (around my age) read his obituary and came to the wake. They shared that dad made a great impact in their lives when they were just 12 years old, helping them realise their potential.
Dad was also the one who saw to our studies. He was strict and no-nonsense. It was fearful whenever my marks dipped below 35 (out of 50) in any of my tests. Initially, I could put the blame on my uncle who was living with us for distracting me from my studies. But when uncle returned home to Gopeng, my excuse was gone and I worked extra hard to ensure that I stayed off dad’s scolding or the occasional canning. Thankfully, my results picked up and I stayed relatively out of trouble. Despite his strictness, he also had a soft side. My youngest brother, 7 years apart from me, came as the baby of the house. The three of us were still schooling, and youngest bro was looked after by a nanny (奶妈) in Chai Chee, walking distance from our house. Whenever youngest bro was sick, dad would go over to Chai Chee to look after him after settling things at home, so that 奶妈 could do her housework. It was from this nanny that my brother picked up Hainanese. Ironically that was the mother tongue of my mother but we never learnt it until we had to speak with youngest bro who could only speak Hainanese when he came home for the weekends.
Mum was quite different from dad. She was contented to just teach, manage less responsibility and opted for early retirement, especially after the death of my eldest brother. She was in Kong Hwa for an even longer period that dad was at Yock Eng and spend a remaining short time of her career with a now defunct primary school in Geylang where the Singapore Badminton Hall now stands. The main benefits we got from mum’s work was she was a librarian for many years with the school and we had endless supply of Chinese books to read. My favourite were the comics ones. The rest were too tough!
Family Treats
Even with four children to manage without any domestic helpers (other than regular part-timers who came occasionally to wash clothes and another to clean the house), dad found time to give tuition, not many, just a couple of students each week. Whenever he got paid, that was the time for treats at the Pasar Malam (night market, which we had in Opera Estate along the canal long ago) or Dim Sum at some nice restaurants. Those were expensive in those days when teachers’ salaries were low. Still, we got to go to restaurants like Oasis in Kallang, Neptune in town, revolving restaurants and a few nice ones which I cannot remember the names. Dad can cook well and when he eats out, it must be at a place where the food is as good as his cooking.
Even at home, dad would be the chef. Every dish was delicious. Even in his old age, he could tell when cooking was off and exactly what was needed to fix it. I remember him to be usually the one doing the afternoon teaching and coming back to rush out the meals. When we were a little older (I was in primary 3), we had to take turns to wash and cook the rice first as the rice would take too long to cook when dad came back. We also had to wash the dishes after meals, not the favourite things for kids to do of course.
The best treats were the drive out to interesting places. We did not have money to fly in those days because air tickets were expensive. Dad’s car was well used, not just for work but also to drive us out to visit places in Singapore or Malaysia. We went to many interesting places in Singapore, such as Nantah campus, Seletar Reservoir Rocket Tower, MacRitchie Reservoir, Zoo, Changi Beach, etc. Dad the photographer would capture these moments, first on his antique twin-lens reflex camera and later on a Nikon FE Manual (which became my camera when I got interested during Junior College). The best were the long drives out to Malaysia to visit relatives (mum was from Muar and dad from Gopeng, but we had many relatives elsewhere too in Penang, KL and JB). In those days when there were no multiple lane highways, we would go on the old highways all over. Places that we have been to are too many to list, including all over Penang, Gopeng, Ipoh, Cameroon Highlands, Genting, Frasers Hill, Muar, Kota Tinggi waterfalls, KL, Port Dickson, etc. He had good stamina to drive all alone with three and later four noisy children behind. Much to mum’s annoyance, I was the naughty one constantly asking him to cut (i.e. overtake) cars and trucks. Overtaking was tricky on the old highway as you will need to drive into the opposite direction.
We did not have many toys. Dad’s cars stayed long in the family until repairs became too high or later when COE was introduced and it became just 10 years per car. My childhood was filled with many of these wonderful memories of special treats and family trips which I am thankful for and which I have learned to model to give to my own children. For this, I have to thank dad for it.
Author with dad in either Cameroon Highlands or Frasers Hill, photo bombed by big brother
On one of our many drive treats – this author as usual, would be the one who was often distracted and looking elsewhere
All kids onboard, ready to explore the back lanes of Gopeng
Batu Caves – How could I forget the climb up and down
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:” – Ecclesiastes 3:1
This series of posts is written as dad lay critically ill in hospital with 4th stage lung cancer that has spread to different parts of the body (Update: Dad passed on just as I published this post around 155pm on 12 January 2024). He had lived a good, long and relatively healthy life. At 90, he would still walk the neighbourhood on his own, albeit weaker since recovering from prostate cancer 5 years ago. His mind was still sharp and alert even in hospital, dulled only recently because of the heavy dose of morphine to mask the pain.
The cancer came suddenly. He felt pain in the chest and hands and some general weakness in early November 2023. We thought it was just part of aging. Then in late November, the pain became unbearable and he had breathing difficulties. We rushed him to A&E where they found the left lung totally filled with fluid and started draining it. Four days later after most of the fluid had been drained, a CT scan confirmed large tumours deep in the left lung. A few scans of other parts of the body showed that it had spread to the brain and liver, and perhaps more as other parts were not scanned. Only palliative treatment was feasible given his age.
Dad was born on 7 April 1933 in Gopeng, Malaysia. He had lived a full life – he lived through the war as a young teen who had to look after young siblings, had a chinese-education at a time when socialist ideas were rampant in Malaysia, came to Singapore to work as a young adult, married, had four kids, a handful of grandkids and a great-grandson and other adventures. He had told us some stories occasionally over the years. I took the chance to talk to him further when he was still sharp in the mind and lying in hospital.
There is a season for every activity under the sun. When you have lived 90 years, surely there were many activities. These posts aim to document these to celebrate his life.
Early Years
Dad’s immunisation at 11 months old
My grandpa with 1st aunt (passed away from a difficult child birth of 4th child in her mid 20s), 2nd uncle (being carried) and dad (in bicycle)
Dad is standing, second from left. He is a natural athlete who can play just about any sport and great at running and jumping.
Dad, front row 2nd from left with trophies. His ancestorial home in Gopeng used to have cupboards filled with all his trophies. I remembered being thoroughly impressed with dad’s prowess when I was a child visiting Gopeng and seeing those trophies.
The Yuk Choy team. Dad is at the back, 5th from left
Home for great grandparents, grandparents, dad and even me (for the first 2 years of my life) in Gopeng. The shop still exists but is modernised and run by my cousin from youngest uncle’s side. Grandma in picture – she lived till around 90.
Dad was the second in a large Cantonese-speaking family with 11 siblings, and the oldest son. My grandpa (dad’s father) had come from Kaiping （开平）, Guangdong province to Malaysia with great-grandpa when grandpa was still a child. It was part of a wave of immigrants from southern China at a time when China was experiencing famine, war and all sorts of hardship. Grandpa later went back to China to marry grandma who was betrothed to him. I was told guys in their village would marry girls specifically from another nearby village, almost always by arranged marriage. I recall being told that grandma was like between 16 to 18 when she got married and came to Malaysia. Not long later, she had her eldest daughter, and a year or so after that, my dad.
Great grandpa started a goldsmith shop. Grandpa tried various work besides helping at the shop. I was told he once sold fish. Unsold fish, probably the worst ones, were eaten by the family. Somehow dad learnt to cook, extremely well. Being the eldest son, he had to do household chores which include cooking. You have to cook well to mask the taste of bad fish! Grandpa (or perhaps it should be great-grandpa) eventually settled on setting up a goldsmith shop though I am not sure when. Probably it was after WW2.
Dad’s large immediate family at his wedding – Great grandpa, Great grandma, Grandpa, Grandma and 7 siblings (4 more had passed away) and (I think) one cousin, the eldest daughter representing my deceased 1st aunt
Dad and mum (extreme left) with great grandma, grandma and grand dad, and my sister and brother
Dad was not yet 9 when Japan invaded Malaya (the predecessor of Malaysia) in December 1941. My grandparents already had 2 sons and 5 daughters by then (though 3rd aunt died as a baby). The entire family ran into the jungle but soon came out when Malaya surrendered. As the eldest son, he had to take care of the youngest siblings in the jungle – 5th aunt was still an infant at that time. During the Japanese occupation, they returned to school but dad said the teachers were not teaching seriously. They had to be taught Japanese. Whatever the teachers could learn of the language themselves, they then taught the students. No one treated school seriously. Dad once told his grandkids that once, Japanese soldiers came to his house looking randomly for Chinese men who could be of threat. My grandpa hid behind the toilet door. Grandma pretended to be doing things in front of the toilet, blocking the door. When the soldiers asked who was inside, grandma and dad told them that there was no one and they left.
After the Japanese surrender in 1945, students returned to their normal school. He completed primary school in Gopeng and went to Yuk Choy for high school in nearby Ipoh. Most were overaged, including dad. Dad was excellent in sports. He represented his school in many sports. He was the interschools champion in long jump and triple jump and held the record at around 21 feet and 41 feet for both (current world record is 29 feet and 49 feet). He also did the sprint at a bit over 11 seconds.
When dad was in high school, there was a movement for students to go back to China. That was in the 1950s when the communist party took control of China and there were strong nationalist sentiments. Some of dad’s classmates planned to move to China, some against their parents’ wishes. Grandpa heard about it and locked dad at home until those who had wanted to leave had left. But I doubt dad actually intended to defy his father and go China because he is the type that avoids risks. Grandpa probably wanted to be very sure of it.
By that time, the goldsmith shop was doing well with the tin mine boom in Perak – my aunt told me the boom started around 1952. Dad said that he helped to sell in the shop and picked up some Tamil words because Indians were regular buyers of gold. He even picked up some skills in making gold necklaces and piercing ears for ear rings. With the shop and economic boom, life became better.
Dad finished high school in 1955 at 22 because of delays due to the war, and taught for around 3 years at his alma mater primary school in Gopeng, where grandpa was a board member of the school (grandpa was already doing better financially then with the goldsmith shop). Dad ended up in the same class as 2nd uncle (2 years younger than him) due to the war. After their high school, both wanted to register for a course to learn English. When registering, the office told them to go away because the school would not accept them. Uncle got up to leave, but dad pulled him back. Dad told uncle to stay and persist because he must make them agree. They spoke earnestly again with the office and were admitted.
Dad said he wanted to go Singapore to study at Nantah (Nanyang University) but grandpa objected, saying that it was not recognised by the government. So he applied to the Teachers Training College (TTC, now known as NIE) in Singapore. He was accepted, so he resigned from his teaching position to go Singapore. Dad led the way for his brother and later 5th sister to come Singapore. He was the first in their family to seek his fortune here.
[Additional post after wake: Dad the Playful Yet Loving Big Brother: At the funeral wake, my aunts and uncle told us more stories of dad as a big brother. My impression of dad has always been one who is strict and non-nonsense. I never realised that he had a playful streak in him, often teasing the younger siblings. Sometimes they would chase him when angry with the teasing, but they could not catch dad who was naturally athletic. Like all youngsters, he got into fights with his elder sister too. I finally realised that my naughtiness and playfulness might have come from dad! But they all told us of how dad looked after them well as a big brother, leading the way in many things. When he started working and returned home each holiday to Gopeng, he would bring them things that they liked. When dad later got married and had a house, at various times, his younger siblings stayed in Singapore at our house when they came here exploring their future. 2nd uncle and his wife moved to live with dad when they were newly married, until they bought their own place. I recall youngest uncle, 5th and 8th aunt also staying for quite an extended period in our house when I was in primary school. Often when whole families came for short holidays, our living room would be filled with mattresses for them to sleep on.)
Dad’s graudation from Yuk Choy – many students were overaged, including him due to the Japanese occupation, during which they were not learning anything meaningful in school.
The Hard Road to be a Teacher in Singapore
Dad had a rough time in Singapore. When he came in 1958, TTC wanted to rescind the letter of offer because he needed to be attached to a school in Singapore. His application was mistakenly accepted because TTC thought that the school he was teaching in was in Singapore. Dad was anxious. He had resigned from his position to seek his fortune in Singapore. He told grandpa. Grandpa had a fellow board member of the primary school, also from Gopeng who happened to be travelling via Singapore to Australia to see to his daughter’s further study. With grandpa’s introduction, dad met this gentleman to get him to refer him to the then-Minister for Education, Chew Swee Kee, who was also from Gopeng. The gentleman wrote a letter for dad. Dad took the letter and camped outside the Minister’s office until he got an audience. I was later told by an aunt that dad had worn out the soles of his shoes looking for the Minister – he must have made several trips there to find him. The Minister listened to his story and asked dad to choose from one of two schools. Dad chose Ama Keng Primary because it had accommodation for staff and he wanted to save money on rental. The Minister wrote on the back of the recommendation letter and dad went off with the letter to the school and became a temporary teacher at Ama Keng.
Unfortunately, the position was only for three months and the school had no vacancy after that. Dad was without a school and in danger of being kicked out of TTC again. Dad went to Minister Chew once more. The kind Minister referred him to Wen Xuan primary, a now=defunct smallish school in shop units along Neil Road and was hired. His place in TTC was saved again, thanks to the Minister and to dad’s tenacity.
A letter for dad and his younger brother (just 2 years younger) to go for a teaching qualification test in Ipoh. Both started off as teachers in Gopeng. 2nd Uncle later studied at Singapore Polytechnic and ran a successful QS company in Singapore until he retired. Dad remained a teacher.
Finding His Soulmate at TTC
At the first lesson as a trainee in TTC, the lecturer was walking around the class and saw my dad’s notes. Dad had fantastic handwriting (I never inherited this gene) and was meticulous in taking notes. The lecturer took up his notes and praised him in front of the class. Right after class, my late mum came up to him to borrow his notes. She stuck with him throughout the two years of TTC – she knew who she could rely on to complete her assignments! Dad told us that for the optional subject, he had wanted to choose Physical Education, because he was an excellent athlete and would surely excel in this. But his then-girlfriend, my mum, persuaded him to do art instead so that she could do the course with him. Dad said for each assignment, he had to do two submission pieces, one for himself and one for her. Thankfully, dad has a talent for art too! He also had a talent for photography which he picked up with a twin-lens reflex camera that my mum’s dad gave to him.
Dad graduated two years later from TTC and married mum right after graduation. They stayed at a rental house along Everton Road next to his school at Neil Road as their first martial home.
Mum attended Nantah before joining a school to teach and attend the TTC course, where she met dad on the first day of lesson and stuck together throughout their studies and got married at the end of the 2-year course.
Mum’s certification to be a fully qualified teacher after 2 years at TTC
Dad and pictures of mum
Serving tea during marriage to Great Grandpa and Great Grandma
A piece dad did in his later years for one of my nieces to help her in her art homework
Video made by my daughter for grandpa, played throughout his funeral wake
Yee Jenn Jong 