Tondoyutung

Tondoyutung, a four-syllable word-name for a four-legged nocturnal and very shy tree animal, could be found in the forested areas of Kampung Tintap and forests beyond. It was a black furry rather than hairy animal and its bite could make one be sent hurridly to hospital. Figuritively speaking, anything or anyone shy enough to the point of covering the face could be referred to as a tondoyutung. Metaphorically speaking, too, anything flush black all over could be called tondoyutung as well. Incidentally, way back in the 70s, an uncle, the late Samuel Kinajil, was bitten by a tondoyutung when he volunteered to visit Tintapland to inspect some riping rambutans. Since a tondoyutung roamed its territory during the night, it slept during the day. He saw this sleeping tondoyutung on a branch of a small tree, a gosing tree. That old man, unwittingly, as in ‘silap haribulan’, tried to catch that ‘sure-know-how-to-fight-back’ smallish animal, using his bare hands. He was, so he himself told his own story, back-carried by a fellow kampung man to the main road and was hurridly sent to hospital. He had to spent a few days there.

Dogs were lovely animals. They were bigger, much bigger than a tondoyutung. At one time Tintapland was dogged or guarded by 13 lovely kampung k-nines, 13 – the highest number ever attempted, and because of their number, the likelihood of getting at least one general luck-bringer was great. But, because of their numbers, their toll on the barn was no joke. They had to have nearly 60kg of rice per week and unspecified wieght of freshwater farm fish to go with it. There was ample supply of fish for them but the rice had to come all the way from the towns. There seemed unlimited dog’s name to give each one, one, and no one had to share names. At that time, there were two lovely female k-nines living at Fortuna Garden, in Kota Kinabalu. One of them gave birth to an all black furly puppy. The first impression it portrayed was that it was special in its own ways. The puppy was brought to Tintapland to enjoy the country air and spacious roaming area when it got older. Mr. Ooi brought a small family tourists from Hongkong to visit the countryside. They ended up at Tintapland where they enjoyed picking rambutans. When the young Hongkong Chinese girls saw the black puppy, it became their main attraction during their whole about an hour stay. When they knew that the puppy had not been given a proper name yet, they proposed a name, sounding like, “Bo”, or was it “Bo” or “Bow”. The young girl’s tone, the one who proposed the name, was not crystal clear, very much inclined to the oriental tone. A few digital shots from a couple of 3Gs satellite phones were taken of that “Bo” from Ju’s palm and from their own grasps. As the puppy grew up it could not be easily called with the proposed name which had not been clearly heard. I wanted to call it, “Lucky”, but thought better of the name, “Tondoyutung”. So, Tondoyutung was then his name. His glamour or stage name, as if there was a stage, was Tung. When he was a bit slow in responding to a call, his long name, Yutung, would be used to call him. Sometimes when he was naughty and full of his own tricks, his full name, according to his imaginary National Registration Identity Card (NRIC), Tondoyutung, would be virbatimly ennunciated. When he was naughtily obedient he would be called by his endearing name, Yutie.

It had been said of animals that if one was destined lucky or would bring luck to the owner, it would be the number one envy of the other animals, the like of it. It therefore happened one evening when Galong, a female adult resident of Tintapland, attacked Yutung. It was an attack to devour. Yutung was saved by literally pulling its whole small head out from Galong’s mouth. The myth concerning lucky animals was feared fulfilling itself at that moment. Yutung cried aloud and he cried long. Inspections of his upper extremities revealed that there could be permanent damages. Minyak batu, the very much relied upon embrocation, both for man and animals, was sparingly applied onto the whole head and any thought-of hurting limbs. It helped soothe the pain. He was lulled to sleep that night. The next morning, Yutung still whined a bit and wanted to communicate something by using his paw to rub his left eye. It was understood, he had lost the vision of that eye. Despite of Tung’s puppyhood growing up hardships, it managed to grow up into a young handsome dog with a bionic eye. Tania discerned that while Yutung was nursing the hurt of his left eye, training it to see things sharper than sharp, bionic, he had developed some cybertronic functions of his other eye.

There was a time when young Jonathan and his younger brother, Jerald, came to visit Tintapland. They were with their father. It was during the long year-end school break. If the long school holidays did not happen in December in all the ASEAN Countries, certainly it was the practice in Malaysia and Singapore. So the JETT brothers came to visit Malaysia, in particular, Tintapland, their grandfather’s secluded outback, during their school holidays. Sometimes they did not stay too long at Tintapland for their Dodu would insist taking them back to Fortuna Garden for the night. To her, Tintapland is not meant for city boys to stay the night. During that particular visit, they were with their father and what their father said was final. They all stayed the night at Tintapland. That was a couple of years ago. The early evening weather during that particular JETT Brothers’ Tintapland visit was good and dry but the mosquitoes, as always, were plentiful. The dogs, all of them, were around the rugged ground of Sulap Tintap. Animals and people were around together. They were all compatable, the two-leggeds and the four-leggeds, except for the two-legged Tondu who would scold any four-legged which would come close to the JETT Brothers. The ground was dry but it must have been tai-manuk strewn. That fussy-always two-legged, you know who, ensured and forcefully enforced that the young brothers, both of them, put on slippers when they walk about the rugged ground. Any slippers around, big or small, comfortable or not, the Japanese rubber slippers or otherwise, were forced onto the young brothers to use. Young Jonathan was asked to use a pair of Japanese slippers which colour, size and comfortability were far from the young gentleman’s liking. Somehow, at one particular point in time during the slipper-use ensuring commands and during the mingling of animals and people together, young Jonathan thought that he was not given the proper acknowledgements which he thought he rightly deserved from all the others around. He expressed that dissatisfaction by flinging his slippers, the Japanese rubber slippers, landing them both at a spot not very far away from where the four-legged were lousing. He accompanied each fling of those must-be disgusting foot-wears with some audible signals as he went to sit at a yet rugged seating area under the Sulap Tintap, leaving his Japanese rubber slippers, both of them, not far from where the four-leggeds were. All these happenings were captured and recorded by Yutung’s cybertronic brain. Yutung must have thought what he would do next. But he took his time. As young Jonathan continued to audiblely express his disgust of those slippers, maybe the disgust was more on the persistent use-slippers enforcement commands coming from the Fussy-Always, Yutung smiled, walked to where the slippers were, picked one of Jonathan’s slippers up in its mouth and walked up to him, laying the slipper quite orderly at his feet. He quickly went back for the other slipper and carried it to him in the same way. Yutung could have said, but he did not for he could not, (remember, he was only a dog!), to young Jonathan, “Master Sir, I mean, Boss, that’s all right. No prob! Remember, things sometimes happen not quite the way we want them to... This one? small thing bah – perkara kecil. Come on. Here are your slippers. Just put them on – bukan lama. No fuss, bah! Ingkaa bo! – Like that, bah! Boss?” Young as he was, Jonathan must have approved and appreciated Yutung’s concern for he automatically tuned down his volume and slowly switched it off. Jonathan must have reacted and mused, “What! Clever Yutung? You’re only a dog, bah! I am a ….”, looking at his closed right-hand fist and thinking that he was bigger, much bigger than Yutung. “But, never mind. Good! Thank You, Tung,” Jon said in his mind. He could have really said those words but he did not for he thought Yutung could not understand anyway. Someone, an adult, caught Yutung’s acts on a still camera, got them printed, marvelled at Yutung’s feats, but lost the prints. Sayang!

The years had a toll on the k-nines. They got sick with skin deseases. Much money had been spent on all of them over the years. Packed shot were bought from the Donggongon farmasi or from the Vet’s at Lido. Recommended tablets, sprays and shampoos were administered. Dr. Piusai was consulted over the phone. Their skin deseases deteriorated. As an alternative resort, the employment of Plan B was put to application.

I therefore had to leave Tintapland early in the morning for some living necessities in town. A nieghbour, Michael, also called, Pilaku, had been left with words of instructions as to what to do. When I came back in the afternoon, Michael poured down his verbal reports.

Gakup, the male, was spared. He was at the other nieghbour’s house minding a bitch which was mengawan at that time. Gakup was then the lone guard on Tintapland for a bit of a time.

When Cool knew that Galong was not at Tintapland anymore, she came home. She moved to Michael’s house for about 5 years because of Gal. I did not want to intervene in dog’s tifs too much as I was of the opinion that even the dogs have their own dog’s rights. Cool was acting top-dog on Tintapland since her home-coming. Gakup, the male, due to age, couldn’t care less. He was taking a stride at a time. Ringkui, another otai guard of Tintapland, and Kugie, a kampung k-nines that came home to Tintapland soon after the 2004 general election, together, composed the foursome old-timers presently welcoming visitors to Tintapland. Sometimes they acted as personnels of JPJ (Jabatan Pengangkutan Jalanraya) when they would try to stop every passer-by vehicle.

As everyone took each day-change for granted, the number of k-nines on Tintapland fluctuated. Tintapland proprietor accepted the fact that the status quo of any situation could not last for long. It could be prolonged with Divine intervention, through prayer-appeals. Yutie was a good and fun friend while he was still around. It took me a long time to overcome each lost.

Another four-leggeds around Tintapland were Cool’s number one enemies. The topcat seemed Mayon although Mayon seemed not to bother about the existence of the others. There were 10 live-cats at 10.00a.m. on 9^th March, 2008, the day after the 12^th General Election. If a cat dropped to the ground anytime, be it day or night, that cat would be on a 9 to 8 life estimation, more dead than alive. They were all permitted to live on the ceiling of the car-shed and on the upstairs of Sulap Tintap. There was once an iconic Tintap Mayon, a flush white male cat almost known anywhere around Kampung Tintap, as far away as Kampung Manansawong. It was like a dog, wanting to follow its owner on a walk around the ground. When Tania was back home from her U in KL she borrowed Mayon to Seroja 3 for the duration of her home stay. Mayon seemed to know Fortuna for it went up the stairs ahead of her. It disappeared for a few hours only coming home torn and nearly tartered. That feeling of seeing a fine thing changed to something bad, seeing a beautiful cat hurting itself, hurt. But, when it disappeared the second time and it did not return anymore, that signalled a certainty that it must have met with its fate.

R, a female playful puppy, acted a ‘doctor’ for the present Mayon. Mayon was skin-deseased due to some excessive sharing of fishfeeds. R licked dry Mayon’s under-jaw skin disease and in no time the disease left Mayon. The saying, miaga tingau om tasu (like a dog and a cat) emphasising the noncompatiblity of a dog and a cat, in that case, was a myth. So effectively healing of wounds was a dog’s saliva that it had even been narrated in The Lazurus Story of the Old Testament bible story. Michael accidentally ran over R. Michael and friend were practical kampung economists. They must have said, “Orubat, daging tosonong!” (Don’t waste good meat!) and threw R into the stewing pot.

(I made a trip to the Taman Crocker Range, Keningau, alongside the Keningau-Kimanis Road, on 2^nd January, 2009. I went with Tania who was on her extended leave from her USM, Penang. She may have to catch up with her work and studies when she gets back. It was during this visit that I realised my mistake in assuming that a Tondoyutung was a furry black animal. Actually a Tondoyutung was a brownish hairy animal. I made the mistake when I was reffering to a Monggoluton (a squirel) to mean a Tondoyutung. Sorry, my mistake!)

Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve, Kampung Tintap, Babagon, Penampang

The Kadazandusun word of the Tagahas dialect, Tolungan, meant the deep river pool formed when two rivers merged.

Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve was named as such because of the apealing beauty of the tolungan, the merge-point of the Babagon River and the Moyog River in Kampung Babagon itself. It was applied for from the then Colonial Government way back in the 1950s when Gundohing Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil was then the newly appointed Ketua Kampung of Kampung Babagon, and, at that time, other Kampungs nearby. An application for something so big as that Reserve, in those days, might have taken so many years to finalise especially when ground survey had to be manually laboured by the Lands and Surveys Department surveyors coming from some 22 kilometers away in Kota Kinabalu.. If the time taken to realise the applied for Reserve had extended over to the present Government era, post Independence time, for it was thought it did, then it was quite understandable.

The Factors That Prompted Such Application

In the 1950s, the limited grassy river plains in Kampung Babagon and other kampungs around were flourishing as they were seldom grazed. There were no buffaloes around the area. The people from Kampung Penampang and other kampungs around Kampung Penampang, further down river, therefore used to send their buffaloes to Kampung Babagon to graze soon after the padi planting season. That time was around the month of July. They would seek for their buffaloes and herd them back home to their kampungs just before the padi harvesting season, around the month of December. Comparatively to situations nowadays, at that time, everything was peaceful and there were no cases heard of people involved in buffaloes stealing. The Ketua Kampung of Kampung Babagon at that time, KK Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil, had instructed the locals to refrain from fencing up any riverbank plains for any fencing would become buffaloes’ traps in times of big floods. Such sending up of buffaloes and collecting them down later, was the yearly habitual practices of the padi farmers from further down the Petagas River. They referred to the places in Kampung Babagon as the “sarayo” or “saazo” (upstream) while they were from the “bugus” (downstream). The idea to formally apply for a piece of land from the Government for the purpose of buffaloes grazing ground was collectively conceptualised. The then Ketua Kampung of Kampung Babagon at that time, the now aged Gundohing Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil, became the central player in realising the applied for area.

Heat-hot Ordeal

The actual sending of buffoloes from downstream to the upstream Kampung Babagon took the whole day. One would ride the tired and slow-moving buffalo as it was guided along its path. As experienced, a trip of around 10 kilometers on a tired buffalo’s back was a dreary heat-hot ordeal. “I could not imagine how my class-teacher, at that time, could tolerate the trip. Someone said that he was like a football perched on the back of his buffalo”, Ju once said. Such was the good example of how obedient a son was of his father. He was asked to send the family’s buffalo upstream at that time. Ju was also asked to send his family’s buffalo upstream at the same time. They therefore went together. When they came to a stream, they rested for some refreshments. They were more interested to rest the buffaloes rather than their riders. But whatever it was for, it was a good break. Ju’s teacher asked him as to why the stream was full of stones, boulders. He was the teacher and Ju was the Primary Five pupil! Ju answered, “Because the stream water had washed away the loose soil exposing the hard-to-move boulders.” He said that it was a good answer. At that time KK Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil was relatively a new Ketua Kampung. He used to visit the District Officer frequently regarding matters related to the realisation of the applied for grazing reserve, styled name, Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve. It was popularly called and referred to as, “The Grazing Reserve”. The Trustees of the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve were the Penampang District Officer, the Native District Chief (Kadazandusun) and all the Ketua Kampungs of the Kampungs which used to send buffaloes from downstream to upstream Kampung Babagon, including the Ketua Kampung of Kampung Babagon itself.

Old Man Gilo

To the people in Kampung Babagon, the elderly ones, the ones who knew, they all thanked Gundohing Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil for the existence of the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve. In the middle of the Reserve land, there was a big durian and a bambangan tree. Old man, Gilo, when he was still alive, used to collect some durians and some bambangan and send them to Kampung Babagon for KK Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil. The residents of Kampung Babagon and the other Kampungs around did not know the early history of the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve. They just took it for granted that they had a big plot of a nearly-free-for-all piece of land. The total area of the Reserve was around 300 acres but some area had been execised out to augment the area of the Babagon Agriculture Station. The Ketua Kampung of the Kampungs utilising the use of the Reserve for economic and agricultural activities, especially the present Ketua Kampung of Kampung Babagon, should take the initiative to further find out details about the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve. A copy of the Land Title could be obtained and all its conditions familiarised with. Depending on the outcome of the Ketua Kampung’s search a land utilisation committee could be set up to economically manage and plan the development of the hundreds of acres. The present Ketua Kampung of Kampung Babagon’s plan to apply to degazette the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve should be immediately abandoned. The existence of the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve as a communual agricultural and farmland of the people of the surrounding kampungs had become an envy of other community leaders from other areas in Sabah. It had been cited by other community leaders as the result of the far-sightedness of the Ketua Kampung of Kampung Babagon at that time, Gundohing Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil. An otai Tan Sri from the Interior Residency once said so.

Native Reserve

The whole Reserve area had been opened up. It had been planted with cash crops, the like of pineapples, lemon grass, lengkuas plants and the like. Some parts of the near 300 acres Reserve Land had been planted with rubber trees while others had been planted with local fruit trees. They were semi-permanent plantation and by virtue of such semi-permanency of the vegetation planted, the defined land-areas could not be easily taken over by anyone else. Some areas which had been previously utilised for cash crops plantation and then abandoned, were taken over by others in later years. Some had opened up fishponds on suitable plots of the Reserve Land. It had been utilised for quite a lot of land-use except for its original plans, as a grazing ground for animals.

Grazing Reserve

An idea was therefore once posed to a few locals who had considerable areas planted with pineapples on the Reserve Land. It was suggested that the areas least suitable for any plantation of economic value be utilised for the rearing of mountain goats so as to fulfil, at least in parts, the original purpose of the Reserve Land, a Grazing Reserve. Those locals did not even weigh the suggestions. It was proposed to them because they were very industrious people and any worthwhile undertaking under their overview seldom fail. But, it was negatively shot down. “Cannot be done! Impossible!”, one of them responded. One would be at a lost to imagine as to what would be ‘impossible’, or as to what ‘could not be done’ for any positive thinkers would already be imagining seeing hundreds of mountain goats roaming the noomulok (repeatedly utilised) hill-slopes on hearing such vocalised imagination. Some other extra-positive thinkers might already be enjoying munching a bbq-ed mutton on hearing such posed thoughts.

Gundohing Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil, the sole survivor from among his other fellow farmers and owners of buffaloes in the 50s, who dreamt of this Grasing Reserve as something beneficial to all the people years later, would certainly feel happy to know how the Reserve Land was used for other enonomic endevour. If the land was privately owned it would not have been opened up as how it had been quickly utilised. The locals put to practice the gists of the saying, “The early bird catches the early worms,” and “Siapa cepat dia dapat”. (Whoever was quick would surely get). Such efforts, the application for the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve in 1950s, truly emphasised another result of some far-sightedness of that otai (old timer), ex-KK, then ex-KAN Gundohing Emmanuel Tangit Kinajil.

Nothing further was heard about the, ill-advised and ill-motivated plans the current Kampung Babagon Ketua Kampung’s plan to degazette the Reserved Land! It was incidentally learnt later that what he had in mind, or what had been, perhaps, craftily advised to him, was that when the degazetting of the Reserved land had been approved, the once-gazetted Tolungan Native and Grasing Reserve area would then be opened for all to apply. Kampung Babagon itself, would then be applying a reasonably big area for Kampung Reserve, Graveyard Reserve and other Reserves which purposes would be thought of later. Little did he know that once the area had been legally freed of the magic gazette, anyone, or nearly everyone, had equal rights to send in a land application to own and alienate the opened-up land. There was no, nothing at all, to guarantee that Kampung Babagon, as a kampung, would get an inch, so to speak, of the land which was once their own domain. The land=RM-motivated advisors could have then applied for many land pieces under different names and alienate them all under the term of Country Lease. If that would have been then the outcome of the Ketua Kampung degazetting pride, then the wandering generalities, so to speak, the ordinary kampung people of Kampung Babagon and kampungs nearby, e.g. Kampung Tintap, Manansawong, Timpango, etc., would only do the act of, “gigit jari”.

The enactment, if ever the term Trustees was ever emplaced through an Act of Parliament, of ‘Trustees’ to which authorities over something were vested upon, was an excellent instrument. Whosoever had first thought of the ‘trustee’ idea deserved many congratulations. Coming to think of the truly-not-so-smart ‘degazatting idea’, it could never have gone through even if the Ketua Kampung had done the intricated processes single-handedly, or aided by his advisors, for the members of the Trustee vested with such authorities were quite many. Many of the other young Ketua Kampungs of kampungs further away from kampung Babagon did not even know that the institution which they were sitting on was, from earlier on, a member of the Trustee of the near-300 acres Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve which existence they did not even know. By right, his kampung folks could also enjoy whatever benefits The Reserve Land could provide. There might even be positive thinkers from amongst the kampung youths of the bugus (down-stream) kampungs. They might even think of planting hundreds of acres of Gaharu Trees on a Co’operative Soceity basis. They might want to establish a proper Land Utilisation Committee. They might want to regulate land-use for housing. ‘Outsiders’ should be barred from making houses along the road shoulders which defined the upper boarders of the Reserve Land! Who were the ‘outsiders’? How were they considered as one? Thus, the need for a proper, fair and democratic kampung administration.

Reference:

Joe

Patience is a virtue

Possess it if you can

Seldom found in ladies

But never in men

Patience Strong

1960

PRU 2008

On 8^th March, 2008, every fair-headed registered voters should have come out to cast their votes in the General Election. Days before that date many voters must have complied with the announcement over Radio broadcast and TV telecast that voters could send a request for information as to which polling station they had to go to, through SMS – SPR, new IC number and send to 33333. Tondu and I had complied with such prompt accordingly. I found out that I was, as usually I would, to cast my vote at SRK St. Joseph’s, in Penampang. My assigned row was number one and I was listed as number 144 on the electorol rolls. Despite of these knowledge, when I arrived at the voting station, I was still required, by circumstances, to see the SRP Desk to get a repeat of the information I had already found out. Quite a no waste of time really, save for the SMS service of 50 sen! One would still have to approached the SPR Desk to ask which room was actually room number one. The door was not marked or labelled as room number one. Although I stayed in Tintap, as I had already long moved kampung, I had never bothered to change my voting station. It did not really matter for I was still voting for the ADUN for Moyog and MP for Penampang. I only had to travel approximately 12 kilometers away to my original voting station. I left Kampung Tintap for SRK St. Joseph’s in Penampang at 8.30 in the morning. To cast my vote was the most important duty I had in mind to acomplice for that day. I wanted to avoid the rain and its after effect. The Moyog river was very much suceptable to flooding even after a short downpour. But, on coming to Penampang schools, I made a wrong stop at the SRK St. Joseph’s wing near SM St. Michael’s. That was my wrong place. I did not waste a lot of time as I was immediately informed by fellow fools to proceed to the other school building which was about three hundred yards further up the road. On coming out of my car at that correct destination, I saw a table, not a pondok as it used to be, of a political party, mine to support traditionally, at the foot of the hill. Tondu hung around that place socialising with familiar faces while I went up the hill to cast my vote. There were SPR tagged personnels in yellow around. They all kept quite on seeing me panting my every stride up the hill. I supposed they had to keep quite until spoken to, or maybe, they were all amased to the point they could not speak to see me take things seriously. Arrow signs directing people to room one were nowhere to be found. So I went to the SPR Desk and followed everyone present one’s Personal Identification Card to the personnel on duty. When my turn came the personnel on duty punched my IC number on her laptop and told me details I had already known. She gave me a small piece of paper marked Tempat Mengundi 1. I asked generally as to where Tempat Mengundi number one was. Almost everyone who heard me enlightened me that the row where I was standing, the row nearest the SPR Desk, led to Room Number One, which was the same as Tempat Mengundi 1. When I finally came to the door, I saw that there was no marking indicating that it was Room Number One. But it was Room Number One. Sabina came and went straight to the policeman at the door. Someone must have told her to go straight to the front, jumping the queue. I asked my auntie, John’s mother, who was lined-up on the women’s queue, “Sogiton naku iho? (Is she sick?) I said refering to Sabina, also an aunt to me. My auntie said, “Sohivuton ka iho”. (She is suffering from shingles). Another elderly woman infront of her said, “Asaanang o tubat do sohivut. Onuon po i kinoohusan do vuhanut om soobon no, onuan no do tumau piasau om gigihan noo.” (It is not too complicated to heal shingles. Just get the snake’s self-discarded skin, burn it a bit, mix it with coconut oil and rub it on). The conversation exchanged in small talk, as if everyone knew the maintain-silence rules, was still on when I stepped into the room to do my voting. I missed the rest of the quite-informative exchanges. The whole process of casting votes, for ADUN and Parliament was over in no time. On going down the hill I met quite a number of relatives and people I was familiar with. Tondu had ealier been given two bottles of drinking water from the BN table. They were labelled BN. Earlier, when I was still on line, meaning literally lined-up in the men’s row alongside the women’s row, Eddie, who was a few fellows lined-up behind me, made his communicative starter, ignoring or unaware of the silence-sign prominantly displayed for all to see. He said quite loudly, “Iti no do touvii no do kopongundi zou. Au’ zou nodi kopongundi do songian kivaa vagu’ o pongundian. Mugad zou nodii.” (This is the last time I cast my vote. I would not be voting the next time there is an election. I am going already.) Without turning my head to see the scenario, I heard another fellow acknowledged him by asking, “Dodoo, nombo ngozon nu?,” he asked. (Eh, where are you going?) “Sumampaping”, Eddie answered. (Going to the other side). Meaningless controlled laughters from many directions follwed. Eddie, although a pensioner, was still relatively young. He could be less than 68 years young. Still, comparatively speaking of others around him, he was an old-timer. Those were the two on-going verbal communications I had to leave when I stepped into the room to cast my vote. We then proceded to SRJK Yue Min where Tondu cast her vote. She was at that voting station for just a few minutes. Efficiency in the whole procedure must have improved a lot. After getting a mid-morning refreshment, we did a little shopping before returning to Tintap. On the way back, we stopped by a petrol station to fill-up the car. I met Milin at that station and inquired whether he had cast his vote already. He said, “Au’ po”. (Not yet). “Ba, moi nogi’ haid. Umasam mati’ iho”. (Better go early. It may rain later). I started with this communicative starters quite unaware of possible implications of happenings during the day. He said, “Au’ monguo, okonko ngau’ kivaa pazung”. (It doesn’t matter. There is an umbrella). I knew that he was an opposition voter. He came from the same kampung as the opposition candidate using the umbrella as his election symbol. He wanted to prolong the conversation but it was my turn to cut him short. I did not want to get negative input into my personal computer and allow it to reach my long-term memory. Before the election date, during the 13 days allowed for campaigning, the so-called “Markas” established by a leading political party, had a defeative inclinations. One of the slogan-jokes the workers from the Markas that I knew, a joke-slogan which they must have heard from somewhere, or which their Markas opposition elements could even have planted in their minds and which they were hoped to propogate from their Markas, was, “We want our candidate to win but we ensure the opposing candidates get big votes rendering our candidate a small majority”. When this line of thinking was mentioned to me, either on purpose or accidentally, by a Markas worker, or rather, by a Markas idler, I was quite disturbed and very much worked up. I told that man not to think in such line and to refrain from repeating such words to anyone he would meet in future, even long after the election. I asked one worker as to what the Markas frequenters would do during their time at the Markas. He said, “ Inggaa’ ”. (Nothing). “Minum kupi om aramaiti tu haro nogi 3 sopulu om talak”. “Momoin lap-lap nogi”. They drink coffee, and aramaiti with 3 sepuloh and talak. They even indulged in ‘lap-lap’. Those were the few reports I was fed with by an unsuspecting Markas idler rather than worker of a Markas that I know. Little inefficiencies like these could lead to some big disasters. Were the party workers pre-election duties defined? Did the area campaign managers had some sort of a 13-days scheme of work for themselves and for each Markas? Was there any checklist? But, now I have started a search of my thoughts with some self- searching questions, “Am I a fool of a comformist? Am I a fool when all the others are smart? Am I taking life and everything there is in it seriously?” I waited from early evening on 8^th March to about 3.00 o’clock in the morning on 9^th March for news from the broadcast and telecast. When the election rersults of my constituency, ADUN and MP, had been announced, only then I retired for the previous evening in the following morning.

Jalan Babagon-Timpango, A Public Car Wash?

Direction South East of Kampung Babagon in the Penampang District is Kampung Timpango which engulfs the other smaller kampungs, Kampung Sungoi, Kampung Tintap and Kampung Manansawong. Kampung Tintap which boarders with Kampung Babagon itself, only separated only by the Moyog River, stretches for more than a mile long. It is as long as the Tintap stream, the origin of the name of the Kampung. For ease of reference therefore, Kampung Tintap has an upper region as well as a lower region. The distance of the furthest southern reaches of Kampung Timpango from Kampung Babagon is estimated to be more than ten kilometers, boardering with the frienges of the Crocker Range. The total population of all the kampungs (villages) within the bigger Kampung Timpango is quite considerable, so deserving of the establishment of a Ketua Kampung (Village Chieftan) and a JKKK, (Village Development and Security Committee), like any other big kampungs or groups of kampungs. The economic activities of the people in general are quite varried. Quite a number of them are rubber tappers, tapping their own small-holdings, while the rest are generally cash-crop producers, planters of pineapples, lengkuas, lemon grass, pandan and other generally termed land-produce. They also plant pineapples for the ‘pineapple-flowers’ which are quite on demand especially towards and during the Chinese New Year. They are also required by the regular customers almost every fortnight for their distributions within Sabah and Labuan. They are the essential requirements for some religious purposes. The Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve which covers the whole stretch of areas of Kampung Tintap and Kampung Manansawong is within the administrative sphere of the larger Kampung Timpango. The Reserve as a whole is well-subscribed and utilised by the inhabitants of all the Kampungs within the larger Kampung Timpango. Very few, if any at all, of the residents of Kampung Babagon, save for some people from Kampung Timpoluwon, have gricultural activities in the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve. The Babagon-Timpango road was constructed in 1999 just before 10^th Malayia General Election. It was considered an ‘election-approved’ project and the Chief Minister himself was believed to be resposible for its approval. At that time some of the negative thinkers of Kampung Timpango who were easily influenced by negative outside thoughts, the traditional opposing elements to any status quo, and whose identities had been hopefully made known to the politial leaders, were reported to have said, “Otopot no do oitom ino talun-alun do dumampot doid kampung tokou, nga, hobi po initom do tuhu tuhun mantad Malaya do mikot sumovohi dotokou diti kampung tokou.” What those individuals were trying to express was far from the result of logical thinking. The road, Babagon-Timpango road, is now a reality. It has brought much convenience to the inhabitants of Kampung Timpango and all the other kampungs. It stretches all along the eastern boarders of the Tolungan Native and Grazing Reserve for miles, giving much convenience to the cash-crops planters in the Reserve Land. The people of Kampung Timpango and other kampungs served by the tarred Babagon-Timpango road have bought motor vehicles for their own use. There are not less than 20 motorcycles frequenting the road everyday. They are all owned by the younger people of the area. Extention of the road to Ulu Sungoi, in the East, and, over the hill to Kampung Tulung to the South, have been started. On a good weather, they could even be made use of by any four-wheel powered vehicle. Other long-term economic activties of this area are the Projek Industri Geta (Rubber Industry Project). There are two or three phases of hundreds of acres of land being cleared, terraced, and planted with high-yielding rubber trees. All these activities are fully funded by the Rubber Industry Board. The planted rubber trees are looked after until they have matured. The whole project would then be handed over to the owner to be worked on. The Rubber Industry Board will only require the owner to sell their rubber sheets or rubber latex back to them. With all these almost God-given assistants, conviniences and facilities provided for freely, there are still talks heard around from among some of the ungrateful receipients, “we sell some to the Lembaga Getah but we also sell more to the Persenderian”. Very ungrateful line of thinking! Where on earth, not to mention in the Heavens, can such ‘spoon-feeding’ be found if not in Malaysia only, and in this case, in Timpango only? Yet, the people are not grateful! The river-road fording has been professionally completed and cemented making it convenient for vehicles to cross save during a big flood. It also adds to the beauty of the river. The Moyog river in fact has also been subjected to many cleanliness campaigns and protection. The slogans, ‘Love Your River’, co-sponsored by a Newspaper, the YB of a few years ago and some NGOs, and ‘Don’t throw rubbish into the river!’ does not carry much meaning. Although there are Gotong Royong organised to clean the river banks, cars and big lorries are ‘permitted’ to be washed of their dirt in the river. The whole stretch of the river-width at that river fording is strung with cars and other vehicles, bumper to bumper, being washed in the river. Lorries sometimes are parked in the middle of the river, on the cemented vehicle fording, being washed of their oil-soiled canvas sheet covers in the river water rendering the clear water into something black and murky dirt. There are not less than three kampung community leaders holding responsible positions in Government and at kampung level staying very closeby the river fording. They cannot avoid but notice such ‘throwing of rubbish in the river’, so to speak. One of them has been made aware of the water polution. He had commented, “Otopot, konii! Zinamut do tumau, kapatai do sada!” But, he did not do anything about it. The Government Fisheries Station in Babagon has vested interests in the river pool further downstream from that river fording of the Babagon-Timpango road. It is keeping assorted fish in the river pool under the River Tagal System. Some of the fish, as generally said and feared by the kampung people, have left the pool eversince this deliberate and persistent washing of vehicles upstream was started. In fact, nobody in a position to react is not aware of these almost-every-evening activities. The culprits are mostly outsiders from Kota Kinabalu, presumeably, and beyond. But the local problem, it is again presumed, is the “tidak apa-ism” attitude on the part of so many strata of community leaders. Some years ago this case, the washing of dirty vehicles in the river, was brought to the attention of the elected peoples’ Representative through a reliable ‘inside’ personnel. Nothing was heard of any action taken although pictures a lot of pictures have been handed over as evidence. What was generally heard of coming from nobody in particular was, “bagus gia iho, kita kena bikin tempat umum untuk suci kereta”. (It’s good, we’ve been especially provided with a public place for a car-wash!).

My Gaharu Trees

Herbert Gaban, an old friend, paid me a visit at Tintap for the first time in early 2005. He presented himself in an annoying way. He spoke in Bahasa Melayu using a some sort of a Javanese intonation, not that I knew how a Javanese intonation sounded like. But he did speak in some sort of an intonation strange to Malaysians, the like of an intonation of one of the ethnic groups from Indonesia. He had pulled down his topi thus hiding most parts of his face. “Who are you?” I asked feeling very annoyed. The next thing I would have done was to send him out of my premises. I would have used force if I had to to make him leave. He must have felf such signal for he turned semi-professional by introducing himself. He gave me a strange-sounding name saying that he came from Sandakan. He said that he had come to look for Joe Tangit. It was at that time that the quiver around his mouth betrayed him. “Herbert!”, I shouted as we exchanged friendly soft swings and blows. Our handshakes were quite prolonged. He apologised for his theaterical presentation which I commended as coming from a professional. He said that he had had a practice duping Julius Mojulin in some similar ways. He said that Julius also nearly wanted to throw in out of his deer farm. Our associations together started from way back in 1964 when we were pioneers of the Gaya Teachers’ Training College, Kota Kinabalu, getting our Teacher’s Training Certificate. Both of us were following the P Course, meaning, when we eventually graduated, we would be required to teach the primary schools. We had boyish fun together. We would bet for nothing at all but as to who would be able to run the fastest and tap on Cecelia’s hand. That Chinese girl must have mused and felt elated because two not-bad-looking Kadazandusun boys secretly as well as openly adored her. We were in Gaya College from 1963, graduating at the end of 1964. In 1965, as graduates from Gaya College, we were posted for the first time to SRK Babagon, in Penampang. Both of us were assistant teachers, the headmaster being James Tan a graduate in 1964 from Kent Teachers’ Training College, in Tuaran. That was the second time Herbert and I were together in the same place. In 1968, when the headmaster of SRK Babagon was transfered out of the school, I was appointed the Headmaster by the Education Officer, Encik Asli Luttah. In 1969 both Herbert and myself, for the third time, together with 18 others, were sent to Sydney, Australia, to undergo a Colombo Plan Course in the Teaching of English as a Foreign Language. There were 20 teachers from all over Sabah on that Course of Studies. Justine, Yong, Alfred, Lee from Tenom, Lee Chee Kin from Sandakan, Fidelia, Philomena, Digong, Wahid, Suhaibul, Dolly, Benjamin Kudungai from Tambunan, Herbert and myself. (Six people were missed! Memory! Memory! At stake!) There were two Education Supervisors from among the group, Justine Angkangon from Keningau Education Office and Yong Tet Leong from the Tawau Education Office. But, official letters from the Sabah State Government to the group was addressed to “Joe Tangit & 19 Others”. They were letters concerning matters pertaining to our Living Allowances, Departure dates and other non-academic concerns. There were no letters addressed direct to the group concerning academic matters as such could have been communicated directly to Mr Kopock, the director of the English Teaching Centre, Kalamazoo House in North Sydney. Initially, we were all made to stay with foster families. Coincidentally or good spirit-led, again Herbert and I, for the fourth time, happened to be together staying at 16, Cowles Road, North Sydney. Herbert was well-liked by the family because he was a good barber and he cropped up the boys’ head. There were two boys and a girl in the family. Food was provided and we did not want to disrupt any arrangements they had regarding food. What they ate we could eat. I did not really know about herbert’s food patterns. All I knew was that he did not eat fish without scales. But, rarely or never at all were we served fish. What was popularly served were meat, presumablely lamb, and potatoes. At one time, when we had the chance to put forward suggestions, we we served boiled rice together with the normal others. I for one truly enjoyed the rice meal. I had the guts to ask whether there was still the rice left. I was given another bowl. I shared it with Herbert. It was the first time I perspired while enjoying my meal. The land-lady said that we should have told her earlier of our preference, rice, for it was in fact, cheaper. Such business consideration was international. But it was not the same what was happening at Wahid’s foster family’s house. They somehow refused to eat the food prepared by their foster parents. Wahid, Digong, Suhaibul and Dolly were staying together at their foster family’s house not very far from Cowles Road. One evening they came to visit us, Herbert and myself, complaining that they had not had any food for a few days already. They looked languid and drained. I advised them to talk to their foster parents asking them to prepare food that they wanted and to tell them that they were muslim. I also told them that the meat served could be mutton. Jokingly but seriously, I told them that it was perhaps better to just eat the food than to die of hunger, not knowing any Islamic teaching regarding intake of food. A few days later they came to pay us another visit but that time they were all full of smiles. While staying with the family at 16, Cowles Road, Herbert and I together with the rest of the gang were officially brought to visit a farmer’s private apple farm. We had fun spending almost the whole day at the farm. Lunch was provided for all. When we went back, we were given a galanjang (big roughly-made bamboo basket) full of below-grade apples. At home, we kept our own galanjang under our beds. We were in the same bed room. At 3.00 o’clock in the morning, I would hear Herbert munching his apples. He did it discretely avoiding to wake me up. But on hearing his munching I would stealtily reach for my own apple and munch loudly. That munching sound then created the start of laughters at three in the morning! Members of the group always could meet each other when they turned up for classes at the Kalamazoo House. Plans were finalised to move out of the foster families’. A group of us, Justine, Yong, Alfred, Herbert, Wong and myself moved to Milson’s Point, a walking distance to the Kalamazoo House, housing The English Teaching Centre, and to a Catholic Church. It was also very close to a railway station and the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Justine Angkangon and I used to go to Church on Sundays. During the first time we went to church, we made a wrong turn on the road and arrived at an Anglican Church. We were met on arrival by a Reverend. After exchanging greetings, typical of greetings of people meeting for the first time, the Reverend pointed to us the Catholic Church which was just at the next ground. The Reverend, on hearing that we were from Sabah, known to him as North Borneo, invited us to come for tea at his rectory anytime for, I presumed, a chit-chat. He said that he was in North Borneo during the 2^nd World War. We were bad. Despite of having agreed to come, we never turned up. We had no spare time, I presumed. Others in the group decided to stay on with the families they were initially assigned to. Yes, of course, it was convenient. Food was provided and laundry done. The adventurous ones decided to move out. As we were then responsible to feed ourselves, we had the opportunity to visit the wet market in the suburb of Syndey. We had the opportunity to pay a few cents only for a load of beef bones. Sometimes, it was simply given to us. “Do you have many dogs?” the old man would ask. “Yes! Ooh yes, yes”, we would answer, amused with ourselves. We also found out that ikan kandi was rather expensive. When we asked as to why it was so, we learnt that it was because it was fleshy…less bones. We also found out from the locals that the red hot chilli padi was ground around their house-grounds not for the chilli of it but for its red chilli beauty. On every Wednesday evening a big black Commonwealth Car, as we used to call it, came around to pick us up. We were sent to an Australian family for an evening visit. It was, I was told, part of the Colombo Plan scholarship and arrangement. The car would come round to pick us up again at around 10.00 o’clock. Thinking of the whole idea, now, there was an Australian Policy whereby they collected the children of the Aborigine and gave then proper schooling and foster families. I happened, at that time, to have picked up a magazine where there was a feature story of such. The name given to the native boy was Joe. There was a picture of him together with his foster father. They were laughing together, the father boxing Joe and Joe doing the blocking. Joe was in his navy-blue suit. At that particulat time, I had a navy-blue suit with me. Joe looked very much like me or I looked very much like Joe in stature and facial appearance. Our smiles were the same. Anyone could be duped that Joe, in the magazine was me and I was that Joe in the magazine. I brought that magazine page with me back home to Kampung Dabak. Tondu’s mother said, “Nombo koud’ti”? She thought I was Joe, the Aborigine boy. On coming back to Sabah, we found ourselves, Herbert and I, for the fifth time, assigned together to work at the Education Office, West Coast. We had no proper letter of transfer but we were kept to work there for more than six months. When Headquarters came to know of this unorthodox keeping of personnels in one station without proper letters of transfer, the Education Officer responsible was made aware of the relevant Standing Order. We were therefore immediately sent out, both Herbert and myself, to Government Junior Secondary School Bingkor, in Keningau. It was our sixth time together. I was the Principal and Herbert, together with a few others who were already established in the school, the assistants. That was in 1971. When I insisted for a transfer back to Kota Kinabalu area, I was told by the then Justine Angkangon, turned, Tuan Haji Affandi J. Angkangon, that there was no Principal post for me in or around Kota Kinabalu. I told him that I did not ask for such post. Soon after that I got my way. I was transferred to SMK Putatan leaving Herbert still at SMK Bingkor. We seldom crossed paths until in much later years, when we were then about to retire, that I knew Herbert was at Headquarters doing administrative work, the assigning of personnels to the proper posts, scheme of service and salary structures. At that time I was attached to the Curriculum and Training Sector of the Education Department. He retired about two years earlier than me and moved to the States (USA) to stay with his daughter who was married to an American. He had got his PR already but he still comes back to Sabah once a year. He must have missed Sabah all the while when he was in the States. He vented it therefore on friends he victimised by his crafty practical jokes. He brought me to Jalan Pulutan in Menggatal to visit Encik Philipus Pur, the President of the Sabah Herbal Association. He also managed a Gaharu tree nursery and market himself as a Gaharu planting consultant. I bought 5 Gaharu plants for RM30.00 each during that visit. That 5 Gaharu plants are really florishing and growing well. It was reputed that each Gaharu tree of about 6 years old, when pulped, could fetch between 12k to 14k Ringgit Malaysia. My 5 Gaharu Trees had been augmented to 11 …only 11 trees ! Tondu used to joke that she was looking at a future millionaire because he had 11 Gaharu trees!