'Stuck in mud with my pregnant wife, a stranger came to our rescue'

OUR MUHIBAH STORY | In April, Malaysiakini asked its readers to share stories about their cherished friendships and relationships that went beyond ethnic and religious boundaries.

Among those submitted were the stories of two servicemen, who forged bonds with fellow Malaysians of different backgrounds from their time in the service.

But interestingly, the stories shared went beyond their time in the service.

For one navy veteran, it was the day a smartly dressed man gave up a precious opportunity to help him in his hour of need.

Another reader, the daughter of a leftenant colonel, shared about her father’s lifelong friendships which “transcended societal norms” - and how the stories shared by these friends when they paid their last respects brought comfort to the family.

These are their stories in their own words.

In service to the nation and each other

A muhibah story by KS Rony Pavdai.

I was in the Royal Malaysian Navy. There, I served alongside all races - Indians, Malays, Chinese, Sikh, Iban, Dayak and others.

We worked together and helped each other as a team, always standing shoulder to shoulder.

We visited each others’ homes and even after retirement, friends of other races would come to visit and even stay with us.

I can share many testimonials of camaraderie beyond race and religion. One memory, involving a stranger in our hour of need, sticks in my mind.

When my wife was six months pregnant, I learnt that my grandmother was critically ill, so I decided to drive from Lumut to Seremban to see her.

We left at 5.30am, and when we reached Teluk Intan, I felt sleepy. I decided to stop by the roadside to rest.

After a while, ready to resume my journey, I started to drive off only to find my car’s back tyre was stuck in the mud.

I got out of the car to push while my wife took the driver’s seat and hit the pedal. Still, the car didn’t move.

A lot of vehicles passed us but no one stopped to help. Then, out of nowhere, a smartly dressed Malay man on a motorcycle stopped by us.

“Abang, you ask your wife to drive and we’ll both push,” he said.

With one strong push from both of us, the car finally moved forward. But we were both splashed in mud.

My wife and I were so sad to see his smart clothes sullied with mud. He told us he was supposed to go for a job interview but decided to help us.

“I’ll cancel and go tomorrow,” he said.

Covered in mud, I took my towel and found a nearby house to ask if I could use their shower. They were kind enough to allow me to use the washroom outside their house.

It was a day I will always remember.

In celebration of my father’s lifelong friendships

A muhibah story by Sumathy Ramasamy.

This is a photo of my dad, Lt Col (R) Ramasamy Velu, and his childhood friends Mui Yoke Loong and Shahruddin Yusof from his hometown, Kamunting, Perak.

Dad and his friends shared a bond that transcended societal norms. As children, they often cycled everywhere to save money, so that they could enjoy an ice cream or a chocolate.

Playing with marbles was their favourite pastime and they shared these wonderful stories with their children and grandchildren.

As they grew older, their paths diverged, leading them to different corners of the world.

My dad joined the armed forces, and moved to Kuala Lumpur, but always took time to drop by for a cup of coffee with his good friends whenever he went to Kamunting.

Yet, no matter how far they travelled, the memories of their childhood and the lessons learnt from their friendship remained etched in their hearts.

Years later, as they gathered once again at their favourite coffee shop, grey hairs and wrinkles serving as markers of time’s passage, they marvelled at how far they had come and how their bond had endured.

Around the table, laughter mingled with shared memories, reaffirming the timeless truth that love knows no boundaries, be they racial, religious, or otherwise.

My dad passed away on Sept 22, 2023. Many of his friends came to say goodbye.

In our grief, we found comfort in the wonderful childhood memories they had with my dad, which they shared with us.

Brothers in arms

My father also made lifelong friends in the service. On Aug 9, weeks before he passed away, he attended a reunion lunch with a group of army veterans.

As they embraced, the years seemed to melt away, replaced by the camaraderie that had defined their time together in uniform.

Memories were shared with both laughter and solemnity, each tale a thread in the rich tapestry of their shared history.

But amid the reminiscing, there was also a sense of gratitude - for the bonds that had been forged, for the lessons learned, and for the enduring friendships that had stood the test of time.

In the quiet moments between stories, my dad found himself reflecting on the journey that had brought him to this place - the sacrifices made, the challenges overcome, and the unwavering sense of duty that had guided him through it all.

As he looked around at the faces of his fellow veterans, he told me felt a profound sense of pride in all that they had accomplished together.

And as they bid each other farewell, they knew that no matter where life took them, they would always be brothers in arms.

Two Chinese boys and a kompang troupe

A muhibah story by Lawrence Quek.

I had a friend during my primary school years at Tranquerah English School in Malacca. His name was Sharif Alwi (fifth from the right, back row).

He was my classmate and also my teammate in the school hockey team. He was our goalkeeper.

In 1974, when we were in Standard Six, he was appointed the leader of the school kompang (traditional Malay hand drum) group.

Along with another friend, Harold Wee Hock Huat (first from left, front row), I decided to join Sharif in the kompang group. So there we were, two Chinese boys in a group of about 20 Malay boys, playing kompang.

The school kompang group was invited to perform at various events throughout Malacca.

Harold and I were always placed in the front row next to Sharif because maybe, we stood out. We had fun then, Sharif, Harold and I.

I am sharing the only picture I have of all three of us in it. We were poor then, so except for school class pictures, we hardly had any taken. I am the second from the right on the back row.

Both Sharif and Harold have since passed on but those fond memories remain vivid with me.

OTHER MUHIBAH STORIES:

‘When I lost my job at 57, these friends buoyed my spirits’

An Indian girl in Chinese school, the only Malay in college

‘14 years of interfaith events a testament to our goodwill’

‘I couldn't afford breakfast so he shared his with me for 6 years’

‘They travelled for hours to celebrate Raya with us’

Treasured memories as the only non-Malay in school

‘Our love for food transcends our differences’

United under the same flag