Honouring a debt to all Malaysians

How taxpayers helped the son of a constable pursue education to the highest level.

MANY Malaysians I meet at my speaking engagements ask me why I have taken a road that is not “normal” for a Malay and a Muslim. They are usually referring to the way I write and speak impartially, without taking the side of any race or religion.

My answer is always that there are three reasons why I have done so.

The first is because I am an academician and have learned to present my case as objectively and as clearly as possible.

Secondly, I tell them that the Prophet Muhammad taught Muslims to deal justly with all people regardless of their stations in life, beliefs or cultures. A Muslim stands for what is right and for justice for all – always.

Lastly, I explain that I spend all this time writing and speaking in an attempt to improve Malaysia for all of us and our children simply because I wish to honour my debt to the people of Malaysia, past and present, who have affected me.

You see, I owe a debt to Malaysians of all faiths, cultures and positions in society for efforts made to help me and the financial support I have received.

In Islam, we believe that all debts must be honoured in this world or else they will be owed in the hereafter and our good deeds will have to be spent to repay these debts instead of as our “savings” to enter paradise.

As with all Malaysians, one of the debts that we all owe is to our teachers. My earliest memory of my primary schoolteachers are that they were all non-Malays.

The teachers who taught me, encouraged me, scolded me and caned me with a feather duster or a thick rotan when I misbehaved shaped who I am today, a Muslim, a Malaysian and a professor in academia.

I remember Mr Roberts, the tall and large headmaster of St Mark’s Primary School Butterworth, Penang, who gave us spelling tests by dictating passages in English.

When the bell rang for his period, we would make sure the blackboard was clean, the floor swept and the teacher’s table and chair clear of even a single speck of dust.

Mr Robert could make you wet your pants when he scolded you in his loud and thunderous voice. But when he cracked a joke, he had us rolling on the floor laughing. He was so funny and so strict. I wish I knew his full name and of his descendants so I could give his memory and family a special gift from my heart.

I was only at St Marks Secondary School for two years and my teachers, apart from two, were also mostly non-Malays. I remember clearly a special teacher who I think was named Mr Peter.

He was my English teacher in Form Two and he was blind – though he could recognise most of us from our voices. Once he challenged us with a riddle using English puns and I was the only one who cracked it, for which I received one ringgit from him.

At SMJK Hua Lian in Taiping, Perak, all of my teachers with the exception of two Bahasa Malaysia teachers were non-Malays.

I remember my Form Four English teacher, Miss Lam, who always encouraged me to enter essay competitions and give talks in English, even though I was the only Malay boy in the whole science stream of 140 pupils.

When I returned to the school after I had become an associate professor and donated my books, Miss Lam had become the head teacher.

The last time I saw her was four years ago when we bumped into each other in a supermarket in Taiping when I was on a balik kampung visit. She said she enjoyed bragging to all her friends that I was now a professor and also about my political writings. She still texts me from time to time.

With respect to financial support, I wish to record my gratitude and honour the debt I owe to Malaysian taxpayers who helped the son of a police constable with six siblings further his studies with scholarships.

I was awarded a scholarship in Form Four with RM15 a month. I only knew about it a year after the award and the money had accumulated to almost RM200.

When I came to know of this small fortune, I immediately withdrew some money and bought model answer books on Physics, Chemistry, General Mathematics and Additional Mathematics for the MCE (Malaysian Certificate of Education) exam.

These were my worst subjects and I pored over every page to learn how to “reverse engineer” the problems. With some help from my Chinese friends in class, I managed to learn much from the books and managed to score a distinction in all the subjects.

After my MCE, which I passed with six As, I settled in Lower Six Hua Lian for six months.

I had applied to local universities while my friends went overseas to Britain, Canada, New Zealand and the United States.

One day, while I was in class, my father came to see me and informed me that a telegram had arrived informing me that I had been awarded the Public Works Department Scholarship to study overseas.

Against my mother’s wishes and fears for her boy who had hardly travelled anywhere, my father encouraged me to brave the unknown and take my future beyond what his meagre policeman salary could afford.

I stand now as a recipient of the benefits of the Dasar Ekonomi Baru (New Economic Policy) that was hotly debated and only grudgingly accepted by many Malaysians. For better or for worse, I am most thankful to Umno, MCA, MIC and all the early Barisan Nasional parties for agreeing to this policy that saw one boy become highly educated.

After my six-year stint in Wisconsin, the United States, I got my dream job as a lecturer at Universiti Teknologi Malaysia in 1987. I opted for early retirement in 2015 and received my pension from my service to the nation.

I owe my salary and my pension to the Malaysian people whose taxes are a part of my remuneration. Many civil servants do not seem to understand where their salaries come from and that is why they have a wrong sense of loyalty to one race and one religion.

For me, as long as there is life to draw my pension, I will honour my debt to all Malaysians by hoping for and working towards a better nation with compassion for all, with trust within all, and with dignity for all.

As a Muslim and a Malaysian, I hope I am repaying my debt to my brethren citizens.

Prof Dr Mohd Tajuddin Mohd Rasdi is Professor of Architecture at the Tan Sri Omar Centre for Science, Technology and Innovation Policy Studies at UCSI University. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.