©New Straits Times
(Used by permission)
by Melissa Darlyne Chow and S. Arulldas
Tunku Abdul Rahman will always remain in the memories of his personal staff.
The first prime minister earned a place forever in their hearts with his
kindness, love and passion for life, write MELISSA DARLYNE CHOW and S. ARULLDAS
OWEN Chung, 73, remembers Tunku Abdul Rahman as a man of many admirable traits.
The first prime minister was honest, wise, fair and blessed with a sense of
humour that could disarm even the most hostile person. He also had a sixth–sense
for danger.
The Tunku’s one–time bodyguard and later aide–de–camp said "Bapa Malaysia" was
also a person of simple tastes who did not envy the rich or chase after the good
things in life.
He said the Tunku insisted that his children never get special treatment as they
were told to depend on their own efforts to improve themselves.
"He always stressed that his children had to be treated like everyone else. He
did not like his children asking for favours or being treated differently."
The Tunku was also very helpful to those around him, especially his personal
staff.
Owen worked for free as Tunku’s aide–de–camp after retirement as "he was like a
father to me".
"I worked for him out of the willingness of my heart, and did not take any
salary as my son covered my expenses."
The Tunku was very fair to all, irrespective of race. He said the Tunku wanted
the Chinese to play an active role in politics and offered the community the
post of chief minister in Penang and Malacca.
"Luckily, the four prime ministers after him followed in his footsteps and
retained the policy," added Owen, who worked for the Tunku for 18 years until
his death in 1990.
Owen still remembers the Tunku’s wisdom in matters big and small. There was the
time in 1989 when the Tunku organised a doa selamat after Owen returned from
heart surgery in Singapore.
"During the dinner, he told me that God had helped me survive the operation so
that I could fully pay my penance. If you pay your penance, you go in peace. If
not, you have to suffer until you fully pay your penance."
On the Tunku’s sense of humour, he said it was legendary with the leader
cracking jokes when one least expected it.
He remembers accompanying the Tunku to a round of golf one day where many
greeted the bodyguard but remained quietly respectful around the former.
"The Tunku later called me and asked: ‘How come everybody knows you and nobody
knows me?’"
Owen later found out why everyone had greeted him: it was one of the rare
occasions when he had worn his police uniform and this had caught their eye.
On the Tunku’s sixth–sense, he remembers two occasions when it came to the fore.
The first occasion was when they were on a boat not too far off the coast.
"Suddenly, we realised that the boat was leaking badly and water was rushing in.
"The Tunku said we should turn left and head further out into the open sea while
the rest of us wanted to head to shore.
"We listened to the Tunku and soon hit a sandbar where we waited for the arrival
of marine police. If we had gone the other way, we may not have made it to
shore."
The second incident saw the Tunku insisting on walking down the stairs after his
afternoon nap despite always using a specially designed lift.
"We later carried him on a chair down the stairs. As we were about to leave
later for the supermarket, we heard a loud crashing inside the house. The lift
had crashed."
Suffice to say Owen has always lived by the Tunku’s rules: Never take advantage
of people, be humble, be honest.
He always had feelings of the people at heart
A MAN for all seasons.
That’s how the family of R. Kalimuthoo, the driver and friend
of Tunku Abdul Rahman, has always felt about the first prime minister.
They say the Tunku was a wonderful person who always had the feelings of the
people at heart. "He tried to never hurt anyone’s feelings," said his son, Muthu
who served as an aide to the Tunku from 1984 until his death.
Kalimuthoo’s second wife S. Thanam, 63, also served as an aide to Tunku’s wife,
Tun Sharifah Rodziah, for 10 years from 1980.
Another son, Ganesh, became Tunku’s driver when his father retired in 1989.
After the Tunku’s death, he continued driving for Sharifah Rodziah until 1994.
The family lived at the staff quarters in the compound of Tunku’s residence at
Jalan Air Rajah, Penang.
The couple have nine children — Kaliamah, 45, Susila, 44, Balasubramaniam, 43,
Mahandran, 42, Muthu, 40, Markandan@Ganesh, 37, Prema, 35, Shanti, 34, and
Thanaseelan, 30.
Muthu said the Tunku got him a scholarship to pursue a LCCI accountancy diploma
course after his Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia.
"After I completed my diploma in 1985, he asked me to work for him. My duty was
to take care of him, prepare his clothing for events, open the mail and make
sure that he got the newspapers daily.
"I was paid a monthly salary of RM300 and he tested my honesty twice, once by
placing a RM500 note in his nightgown. In the second incident, he placed RM1,000
in it but was happy when I returned the money," said Muthu who is married to R.
Alil Subagari, a teacher.
He said the Tunku always greeted his guests at the door and sent them off at the
door. "He continued this even when he was wheelchair bound."
"I used to sleep outside his room with the door open in case he needed me.
"His old age and sickness did not stop him from performing his religious
obligations. He would be up at 5am to perform the subuh prayers."
Muthu remembers that the Tunku never liked people to refer to themselves as "saya"
in his presence, preferring the royal "patik".
Ganesh, meanwhile, recollected an incident where a cashier at the Penang ferry
terminal had asked him to pay toll for the Tunku’s car.
"I told the man that the Tunku was in the back seat. I ignored his questions and
drove straight into the ferry.
"When we reached home, the Tunku called then Penang Port Sdn Bhd chairman, Syed
Aided Syed Murtaza, and complained about the incident. But he told Syed Aidid to
forgive the clerk concerned."