Malayalee man incident made Lai Beng, Thee Kow and me heroes in our neighbourhood. Women thanked us for taking a stand against the “horrible half-naked Malayalee man” as they described him, while the men told us they should have done something about it themselves long before we did. I was on a high by the time I got home and was not prepared for the reaction of my parents. My mother was in tears, saying I had brought shame to my family by being put in jail. My father wanted to disown me and scolded my mother for spoiling me. The next two days were unbearable because I had to deal with my parents’ disappointment.
Then our exam results were released. Now, parents tend to forgive their children for any indiscretion if they do well in their examinations. I was the only one in the Base who achieved a First Grade, and it made me a celebrity again in our neighbourhood. My father was waiting for me when I came home and that was the one time in my life I remember him hugging me.
“What do you think of my son now?” he asked my mother proudly.
She laughed happily. “Just two days ago, you wanted to disown him. Now, he’s your son.”
The enormity of my academic achievement did not really strike me until Mr Thomas Joy came to our house that night to congratulate me. He was the person who taught me the English alphabet when I was a child. When I saw the tears and pride in his eyes, I was glad I had studied for the exams.
You should not underestimate my Naval Base School experience because, deep inside, I know that the school, along with my parents and close friends, moulded my character. For example, I remember I was the only one from the school selected to play cricket for Bukit Timah District. The rest of the cricket team comprised players from Anglo-Chinese School. Most of them went on to play cricket for Singapore. I suppose to make it look as though the team was not a monopoly of ACS boys, they made me their wicketkeeper. I wasn’t particularly interested in playing cricket for the district, but my cricket master, Mr Van Schoenbeck, thought it was a great honour that I had been chosen to play. It was the first time a Naval Base School student had been selected. He made sure that I went for all the games whether I liked it or not.
At that time, I was already assistant head boy at school and I had no choice but to obey the instructions. The games were played in several different schools in different parts of Singapore. In one game, Bukit Timah District was to play against City District in Monk’s Hill Secondary School.
Mr Schoenbeck asked, “So you’re going for the game at Monk’s Hill?”
“Yes, sir.”
He explained to me the logistics of making it to the game and back home. “It will cost you 25 cents to take a bus to Rex Theatre. From there, another bus ride to Monk’s Hill will cost you 5 cents. So for a return ride, you will need 60 cents. A drink will cost 20 cents. Here’s a dollar. In total you should only spend 80 cents out of it and I expect change of 20 cents tomorrow. It has to go into the kitty for someone else who may need it.”
It was a very long journey from the Base to Monk’s Hill Secondary School. It took me more than an hour to reach my destination. Distances are obviously the same today but somehow those bus trips seemed endless. I suppose it’s because the buses just trudged along at low speeds and made countless stops along the way.
As I was changing into my cricket gear, my teammates started to arrive. Most of them were chauffeur-driven in big cars like Mercedes Benzes and Jaguars. Some even drove their own cars. It seemed to me like they lived in a different world. After the game, I didn’t hang around. I quickly removed my wicketkeeper’s paraphernalia—the pads, the gloves and the box—and hopped onto a bus on Bukit Timah Road heading for the Rex Theatre. I spent my 20 cents on a drink there. Then I made my long journey back to Sembawang. Mr Schoenbeck was waiting for me
Kristen (ILT) Adam-Troy; Margiotta Castro