The writer’s dad’s house in Kg Sg Dua, Asahan, Melaka. Photo: Kruz Aibrahms
Not many of us had the “luxury” of having more than 10 homes while growing up. I had 16 by the age of 30! That’s about the average of more than two per year. For the most part, I had no choice but to follow my father in his vagrant adventures – minus the begging. He was a cop with uncompromising loyalty to his master – the government.
In the 1960s, transfers were the order of the day for serving policemen. Being in the “field force” or polis hutan, we hardly had a long stay in one place. Not even the general duty cops. I didn’t remember much about Kerayong and Pengkalan Chepa but I could begin to remember Rasa, in Kuala Kubu before moving to Kelian Intan, nearby Kroh, at the Malaysia-Thailand border.
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