Akub, the forgotten man

I met this old man while covering an assignment near to his house. He owned this traditional house with delightful ornaments made of plastic. We got into a bad start initially, him scolding me of disrespectful behaviour. He was right, I took pictures of his house without seeking his permission. Me with my own blatant assumption. I assumed that his house was an extension of the house that I was supposed to cover. I was wrong and was rightfully reprimanded. Anyway, the man soften a bit after i apologise profusely and assured him of my intention, not in any way to gain profit from the pictures i took. Then, I asked him of his age and his memory during our independence day. He was 25, when he cycled to the Padang Pahlawan, waiting for Tunku from his mission trip in London. Suddenly this old man cried and babbling about how hard it was back in the old days.

He said money was scarce and many people cant even afford a pair of pants. They survived from poultry they reared and vegetables they planted at the back of their houses. Sometimes they picked fruits like rambutan and durian and sells it to the towkay in the city. Life was hard and they make do, to earn more for their childrens schooling expenses, some of them have to walk or cycle about 20 to 30 kilometers to an estate, doing part time rubber tapping. But the old man, Akub told me on the day of the declaration of independence made by Tunku, all the hardships and sufferings was momentarily forgotten. Hundred thousands of people from all creed and belief congregate and shouted merdeka, merdeka and merdeka and for a moment there they believe that they would have a new start.