A life of service and sacrifice

C. Usha has given much to the nation. Both her husband and son died wearing the uniform. On International Women’s Day this year, it is only right we salute women like her.

THE clothes, including the army uniform, are neatly folded, just as they would have been in camp. The military backpack stands by the side, next to the shiny boots, as if ready for action.

Tragically, there will be no action, not anymore.

The clothes, the bag and personal effects, like pens, a wallet and watch, are placed by the side of an altar set up for trooper K. Indran who died at an army camp in Pahang on Feb 18.

His mother, nurse C. Usha, sitting on the sofa next to the altar at her home in Bayan Lepas, Penang, cuts a sad figure.

This is a woman who has lost two of the closest men in her life to the nation: her husband and now, her son. Both had been soldiers.

Her husband, Mejar C. Kayamboo, perished in an air crash in December 2016 while Indran was found dead in an army camp last month. His cause of death has yet to be ascertained.

A mother’s grief: Usha standing beside the altar set up in her home for her son Indran, who died in an army camp last month. It’s the second blow for her after she lost her husband, Kayamboo, in an air crash in 2016.

Life has really asked much of Usha, 51. But as a wife and mother to men who wore the uniform for the nation, she is a strong woman. And she believes in soldiering on.

She still has three children – Varshni, Sarvindraan and Maitraashnni – and two of them still want to wear uniforms.

Varshni, who is studying hospitality, plans to become a lecturer, but Sarvindraan aims to be a police officer while Maitraashnni, the youngest, wants to be a pilot just like her father.

Despite the two tragedies in her life, Usha says she has no objections to either of them going into the uniformed forces.

“They like it,” she smiles wryly.

Life started simply enough for this woman who was born in Taiping, Perak. After her SPM, she worked in a clinic and had friends who worked in factories in Penang. It was the age before computers, e-mails and Facebook friendships. A friend passed her a pen pal suggestion, a strapping young cadet training to join the Air Force.

They wrote to each other, met up – and after an almost 10-year courtship – they were married. By then, the cadet was already wearing the rank of captain.

Life was great – until Dec 21, 2016.

Kayamboo was about to celebrate his 45th birthday on that day. And he was about to be promoted to the rank of Leftenan Kolonel.

He had called the family a day earlier from his base in Subang and Maitraashnni had asked him for a “big cake”.

Kayamboo promised he would buy her the cake at the weekend when he came home. The next day, he was no more.

The Beechcraft B200T plane he was piloting crashed at the Butterworth airbase. Three others onboard miraculously survived.

“He was not supposed to fly that plane,” says Usha. “But he stepped in for someone else to fly it.”

When she heard about the crash, she called her husband’s colleagues and they assured her that “Abang K” would be OK, as he was one of the finest pilots around. Then Usha sat in front of the TV and reality slapped her hard. His death was on the news.

“I called my in-laws and asked them to come over. All I could say was, ‘He is gone’.”

As Kayamboo was laid to rest at the Batu Lanchang cemetery in Jelutong, Penang, they sang Happy Birthday to him.

Life became a struggle. Usha had to raise four children – they were aged 12, 10, eight and two at the time – and she was all alone.

Later, her aged mother, Letchumy, now 77, also became her responsibility.

But she persevered.

Varshni knows of her mother’s struggles.

“Mum had to rush back between work to cook for us, then she would also take us to tuition classes. It was really tough,” she says.

“Many people wrote me off,” adds Usha. “Some even asked my children to come live with them as they felt I could not be a good mother.”

Her children, however, were her strength. “They are all obedient, humble and hardworking. Indran was also very disciplined,” says Usha, adding that the children helped make raising them easier.

A distant cousin, Mathivanan, helped. He has been an integral part of the family for years now.

Just when things were looking up, the second tragedy hit. It had to do with a birthday too.

“We were all at home, playing a card game. Indran video-called us and said he was having a barbecue party at camp. We all asked him when he would come home,” says Usha.

“We had been unable to celebrate his 21st birthday back on Oct 30, and we planned to have a big do during the Hari Raya holidays. He was looking forward to it, too.”

The next day, his usual morning call and “Good Morning” message did not come. Usha did not think much of it, as he may have had a long night after the barbecue party.

By midday, she was busy and then the call came – from the hospital, not the camp.

“He had stopped breathing at the camp, they did CPR and rushed him to hospital where they got him breathing. But it was too late. Only the machine was keeping him breathing,” says Usha.

Now she has to grieve, and overcome, yet again. It takes a special kind of strength to do that. And Usha has it.

She had been planning to get married again, to Mathivanan who has been the children’s father figure for years. But that has to wait now.

Tomorrow is International Women’s Day, and the theme this year is “Give to Gain”.

It is only right that we salute women like Usha and wives and mothers of other servicemen, who have given so much – and usually gained so little.

I really hope there will be more smiles in Usha’s life again.