Tun Zaidi’s final Indonesian journey

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Leadership is inherent in our nature and is fundamental to our origins, our human makeup — and our destiny.
― Israelmore Ayivo, inspirational writer

To help write Tun Ahmad Zaidi’s memoir, I joined the Governor and his family on a walk down memory lane.

I started by accompanying Tun Zaidi to where he first started out in life — from Kampung Dagang in Sibu, Matu Daro, Limbang and Saratok.

We flew by executive jet to Pontianak and then Ngabang in West Kalimantan for the installation of his son-in-law Drs Suryansah as ‘Raja’ of Nabang.

There was more to come. Next stop was Pontianak where we called on Machrus Effendi who was with the first two groups of ‘information officers’ on a fact-finding mission to West Kalimantan in 1945.

Machrus was with Rahadi Usman’s group which was ambushed by the Dutch. After Rahadi was killed with several others, Machrus escaped to the open sea and was rescued by Zaidi.

We also met another Indonesian freedom fighter Sharif Masyuar who worked closely with Zaidi during the struggle for Independence.

Masyuar’s small abode was like a mini museum bedecked with Indonesia’s heroes such as President Sukarno.

Our Hornbills Skyways executive jet then headed for Jakarta where Zaidi feted me to a side stall selling his favourite dish, grilled goat meat or satay kambing.

Taking me on a city tour in style, I sat in the back seat of the limousine with Tun Zaidi and famous Indonesia singer-cum-actress whose stage name was Dewi Yull.

Born Raden Ayu Dewi Pujiyati, she was Indonesian crooner Broery Marantika’s beau until his death in 2000.

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An Ambonese, Broery or Simon Dominggus Pesulima’s top hits ‘Widuri’ and ‘Angin Malam’ are still evergreen favourites.

Zaidi and Toh Puan Rosmiati youngest sons Nurman and Ehsan joined us on a slow train to Bandung and Bogor where Zaidi was sent to study at the Buitenzorg University.

Charming Bogor’s botanical gardens, deer park and horse carts continue to attract visitors from different parts of the republic.

A week into the tour and on my request, we went to the coast of West Kalimantan where on a good day visitors can see the Anak Karakatoa, a volcanically active island which was created when Krakatoa exploded in August 1883 with tragic consequences.

The world’s deadliest volcano eruption in modern history, an estimated 36,000 were killed in Kratoa from thermal injury as well as the tsunamis that followed the collapse of the volcano into the caldera or large depression below sea level.

Along the way, we visited a unique tribe called the Badui, a community that has a hierarchy system like the Hindus; the highest class, wear white, live on a hill tops and practise an environmental lifestyle.

They use wooden implements, bamboo mugs for clean drinking water conveyed by bamboo troughs, wooden forks and spoons and a large palm leaf for plates.

The lower caste wear black and Malay-type tengkolok headgear and have blowpipes, spears and dogs to hunt for food.

Zaidi told me: “The Badui maintain their mysterious image by preventing communication with the outside world. They are averse to contacts with foreigners and are secretive about the nature of their culture.”

But fortunately, I spoke Indonesia, and got an interesting story.

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On the last leg of our trip, we stopped at Javana Spa and Resort at Cilacap at the province of Sukabumi where the room rate was one million rupiah.

Nestled in the Mount Pangrango Range, the hill resort had a commanding view of hinterland; built from wood and bamboo, it had a unique system of conveying hot water from a nearby spring, running along a canal within the premises.

On a chilly morning, guests have to ask for hot water bottles to go with at least two blankets!

Flying back home, I felt like a VIP as the Governor regaled me with adventures with the normal practice of the using of charms and talisman for protection.

As a young man, his mother handed him a talisman passed down by the famous Sharif Mashor.

My last chat with the Governor was in his room at the Astana where he was bedridden — apparently by a powerful charm from Thailand in the form of an egg with needles, buried in the backyard.

I brought an old Lun Bawang pastor from Ba’ Kelalan who had helped ‘rescue’ him during Confrontation to pray for the Governor.

All his life, Zaidi had lived with health issues, needless to say as a barefoot freedom fighter in the mosquito-infested Borneo jungles while he was in his early 20s.

On May 28, 1953, after three years in Scotland he was invited to represent Sarawak during the coronation of Queen Elizabeth at Buckingham Palace.

On his return to Scotland to complete his final-year exams, he fell ill with ancylostomiasis, chronic anaemia which was contracted by a parasitic worm in Borneo.

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In 1974, he was at his family house in Bandung when he fell unconscious and fractured his lumbar (lower backbone).

After failing to respond to treatment, his family flew him to University Hospital in Petaling Jaya for an emergency operation.

Despite regaining consciousness after the operation, he spent two months recuperating in the hospital.

During the September 14, 1974 state election, Zaidi cast his vote and shortly after fell into a semi-conscious state due to drug-overdose during his two months in hospital.

Four days later on September 18, he was sworn in as Sarawak’s Minister for Local Government and Housing.

Soon after Tun Zaidi’s book ‘Son of Sarawak’ was officially launched by Chief Minister Datuk Patinggi Abdul Taib Mahmud, I received a message that he was seriously ill and wanted to see me.

As I flew to Kuala Lumpur, the family took me to see him at the Petaling Jaya hospital where he was on a drip with tubes.

When I called out his name he opened his eyes and beckoned me to his side.

I bent over and whispered in his ear for him to stay strong for Sarawak and he smiled sadly.

After his passing I reflected on the wise father-like sage.

Late at night, seven days after his passing, I swear the fragrance of frangipani or Bunga Cempaka surrounded my presence in my room.

Did Tun’s spirit come to say his last goodbye?

I shall never know!

The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of New Sarawak Tribune.

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