“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.
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
Yee Jenn Jong 