The door-gift to commemorate the reunion of 1966-1970 SIS hostel residents.
Hostel Life in the 1960s at Sultan Ibrahim Secondary School
By Mohamad Zawawi
Ahmad
1968 Alumni
Prologue
Accommodation was a major problem for outstation students
attending the only English medium school, Sultan Ibrahim School in Pasir Mas in
the 60’s. Public transport then was inefficient and not many people could
afford personal conveyance like cars, motorcycles or even bicycles like the
present day. The solution to such a problem was to find accommodation in a
relative’s house near the school (if you have any willing to provide), share renting
accommodations with other school friends or stay in the school hostel. In my
case, I experienced all the earlier
mentioned form of accommodations until 1963 until I moved to the school hostel in
1963 while I was in Primary 6 at Sultan Ibrahim Primary School. My
accommodation reverted to the rented house again from 1964 to the middle of
1967 when reverted to staying in the hostel again until the end of my schooling
days at Sultan Ibrahim Secondary School in 1968.
Life in the Hostel in 1963
My elder brother who was a teacher, suggested to my parents that I
should stay in the hostel in order to enjoy a better living condition that will
provide a more conducive environment for me to study. He agreed to support me
with a monthly allowance of RM20 of which RM15will go to pay for the hostel fee
while the remainder was for pocket my money.
It was easy for me to gain permission to stay in the school hostel
as the Hostel Master then, a Mr. Vijaya Samaravickrama, a Kirby trained
teacher, was my Standard 6A class teacher at Sultan Ibrahim Primary School. He
nodded to say yes after a verbal request in class.
So on the same day I carried all my worldly belongings comprising
the essentials; a mattress, a pillow, a single size white bed sheet, a pillow
case and other personal things, to the school hostel. A fork and spoon was a
must have as eating with fingers was not allowed, especially for dinner. I had
to take a trishaw ride from my previous rented home shared with my cousins and
friends at Lorong Pak Nik Man, not very far from the hostel. The bundle of
kapok mattress wrapped in a reed mat was too big for a small me to carry and
hence the need for the conveyance.
The
hostel was located within the school fenced-up compound just next to the school
field and adjacent to the school buildings.
It was a single storey wooden building panted in light blue color equipped with thirty plus double decker Vono steel spring
beds. The beds were arranged in two rows
in a hall making a dormitory. Each of us was assigned a cabinet or a smaller
locker placed above the cabinet. Being a newbie with very little possessions, I
got a small locker.
The same hostel catered for both the primary and the secondary schools.
As such there was a mix of students, the smallest being from Primary 1 and the
biggest being from Form 5 of the secondary school. Either big or small we were all
given the same treatment including doing toilet cleaning and watering the hostel
landscape plants on a rotational basis. We had a mix of various ethnicities
with Malays being the majority, a few Chinese, an Indian and a Thai all living
harmoniously together.
In 1963 Lee Eh Hock who was both the school and hostel Head Boy,
his brother Lee Eh Hong and Lee Boon Lai and another Chinese boy from Tanah
Merah (whose name I could not remember),were the Chinese residents at that time.
G. Palanivel, the younger brother of Mr. G. Thanda whom he had brought along to
study at the school, and little Nik Chanon made up the sole Indian and Thai resident
respectively.
Living in the hostel was the most memorable part of my life. Food,
though some complained of not being tasty, was in abundance and we had four
square meals daily. This was something I could only dream of outside the hostel
or even in my own home in the village. Meals consisted of breakfast, lunch, tea
and dinner. Table manners, especially at dinner time, were strictly observed. Loud
talking and sharp clacking of forks and spoons against the plates often resulted
in sharp rebukes from the Prefect’s table and pin drop silence ensued. For the first time in my life too I learnt
that burping in the presence of others was bad manners.
Till this day I vividly remember the life we lived in the hostel. Life
in the hostel was bliss. It was the life
of brotherhood, irrespective of your skin color or religion. There was bullying
from the seniors and but we the small
kids were left much to ourselves provided we do not break any rules.
Regular night study hours, or preparatory class or better known as
prep time started from 8.00 pm to 10.00 pm.
Several school classes were expended as prep classes. Lights were switched off as we readied for
bedtime at 11.00 pm. However, those who were in major examination year were
allowed to stay up to study for as long as they wish.
Making up bed was the most important ritual in the morning. An
inspection by the hostel prefect on duty with everyone standing by their beds
ensured that all beds were made before residents were allowed to go for breakfast.
Bed sheet must be unruffled and the sides firmly tucked under the mattress.
Dirty bed sheets will not be tolerated. The blankets must also be neatly folded
and placed at the feet end of the bed. Anybody who failed to make up their beds
will be punished. Normally they were made
to clean the toilets the next day, much to the delight of the persons on roster
duty assigned to do the job. The toilets were also inspected too to ensure that
those on roster duty did it properly. Failure means having to repeat the
cleaning before being allowed to go for breakfast. The prefect may also
announce locker inspection and everyone were to stand by their lockers for this
purpose. This ensured that lockers were neatly kept at all times.
The harshest physical punishment meted out by the hostel prefect
was for those punished was to crawl under the steel double decker bed. With
just about a one and a half feet clearance from the floor and having to crawl
under 15 beds from end to end, any knocks of the head against the steel frame
can be very painful. The agony of the crawling was not as bad as the bruise to
your pride as you were being watched by the rest of the residents including the
small urchins from the primary school. Such punishment was meted for the most severe
breach of the hostel rules, such as being caught smoking cigarettes.
The Hostel Master could mete out an even worse punishment like
expelling residents from the hostel. Once a senior resident returning from a
night out for a dikir barat performance
outside the school compound, found his beddings missing. To his dismay, at
daybreak, he found his beddings at the foot of the hostel steps. He had been unceremoniously
expelled from the hostel and had to find accommodation elsewhere.
Such were the regulations in the hostel. The hostel prefects were
the enforcer and not many dared to break the rules. That was how we were
disciplined in those days.
Very few of us could afford to send our clothes to be washed by
the cleaners. We washed our own clothes and weekends were washing days for
most.
Friendly Quarrels and Mischief.
My most unforgettable incident that year was when I set a ‘booby
trap’ to catch the person(s) who had been lying on my bed when I went for class
in the morning. The bed was not remade after I returned from morning class. Due to the shortage of classrooms in the secondary
school, students of the lower forms had to attend the afternoon session class.
It was twice that somebody from the afternoon session had been sleeping on my
bed after I left for school. Upon the advice of a friend, Abdul Halim Abbas, I
planted a pin in my kapok mattress with the sharp end barely protruding from
the mattress. Abdul Halim had even lent me the pin. If anybody were to sleep on
that bed after that, he would have a painful prick on his back. True enough
when I returned from school in the afternoon my bed sheet was disheveled and
the pin was roughly pulled out from the mattress leaving a small torn hole. The
trap worked! I know I now had to face the wrath of the person involved. I was
in fear but there was nothing much I could do about it.
When the afternoon session students returned, I was confronted by
the student who had been my victim. My victim turned out to be the person who
had been the nicest of person to me. He was Wan Hussin Wan Ali! I was expecting
a whacking from him but when told the reason for my placing the pin in my bed, he
felt guilty himself and the matter was laid to rest. I was so relieved that I
slept well that night.
Later in life when I met Wan Hussin and related to him about the
incident, he could not even remember it. I guess the pain was not bad enough to
merit a space in his memory.
Though the camaraderie and brotherhood were evident among the residents,
some serious quarrels did occur. Two such quarrels that led to a fight happened
between Lee Eh Hong and Aziz and another one between students from the higher
forms. Two boys had ganged up on another person. I did not know the reasons
behind their quarrels and only knew about the two fights on the night itself.
For some reasons, Aziz had challenged Lee Eh Hong to a fight which
was accepted by Lee Eh Hong. It was to be on the hostel free night. The area decided
for the fight was at the back of the hostel where there was open. It was a
secluded and dark place and not visible to outsiders especially the teachers. The bare fist fight was watched by most of
the of the residents who knew about it including Lee Eh Hong’s brother, Lee Eh
Hock(the Head boy). We all watched from
a distance and nobody interfered.
Lee Eh Hong had earlier borrowed a Buddhist amulet from Nik
Chanon, the Thai boy. With the amulet in his mouth, Lee Eh Hong fought like a
man possessed. He clearly had the upper hand and Aziz took a beating. When it
was obvious that Aziz was losing the fight, a ring of boys hiding in the
darkness of the night appeared from around the fringe of the fighting area.
They were led by a Hamzah Hussein, an ex-student who led his gang of gangsters
from outside the hostel. Sensing danger to himself, Lee Eh Hong shouted at the
top of his voice that that fight was supposed to be a one to one fight and no
one else should interfere. Fearing that the loud shouts would bring out the
Headmaster from his living quarters nearby, everybody dispersed.
In the other fight the lanky guy had given the two opponents a
good beating. Again Hamzah Hussein and
his gang came to the hostel at night and beat up the lanky guy in the
hostel. Fortunately Mr. Vijaya heard the
commotion and everyone quieted down.
Hamzah Hussin had to call for a truce after the lanky guy sought
the help of his relatives from Sungai Golok, Thailand who came to the hostel to
warn the feuding duo. Peace was restored.
I would consider raiding the teachers’ left over dinner as some mischief
by some seniors. The hostel kitchen did
provide food for the resident teachers. Every day a worker from the kitchen by
the name of Ahmad Danial would deliver food for the teachers and set them up on
a table in the teachers’ side of the hostel. The food were slightly of better
quality than those provided for us. The teachers’
room was accessible from the dorm. It was via this door that some seniors would
sneak in to take the food. It would be alright should these raids happened
after the teachers already had their meals and only leftovers were taken but
sometimes they were late for their dinner. After such a raid, those teachers
who have yet to take their meal, had to walk to town for their dinner. On one
occasion, the teachers set a trap to catch the raiders but the raiders were
usually on the alert and avoided being caught. Those naughty boys.
Sometime in the middle of the year, Mr. Vijaya, left the school
and the hostel for what we believed was going for his university studies. Mr.
Thanda Govindasamy, another hostel resident teacher, was appointed as the
Hostel Master filling the vacancy left by Mr. Vijaya.
A 1963 picture of the hostel dwellers with Mr. Thanda (Hostel Master) and Mr. Peters (a Peace Corp Volunteer) flanking Lee Eh Hock, the School cum Hostel Headboy. The primary school students sat cross legged in the front row with yours truly seated directly in front of Mr. Peters.
I left the hostel after the Standard Six examination and at the
commencement of the end of year school holidays. My reason for leaving was
because I could no longer afford the RM15 monthly hostel fee as my brother who
had been supporting me was getting married. Even though RM15 was dirt cheap as
it covered all the meals and the roof we were under, but for poor families like
mine, it was a small fortune to be paid out on a monthly basis. I went to stay
with my sister who was studying in the same school but renting a house with her
friends.
Seniors enjoying their free time. Recognizable in the above picture:
Sitting
on the grass from L – R, Mohd Ariffin Ibrahim, Wan Kassim (Dato’), Wan Ismail
Wan Ali (Headboy)
Standing:
L – R Mohd Husin, Nik Mahmood, Halim and Hassan Mamat.
Hostel residents at their leisure time. Behind them were the cabinets and lockers lined along the corridor where the residents belongings were kept.
Life in the Hostel in 1967
My second stay in the hostel was in 1967. My classmate Ashaari Amin was instrumental in
getting me to return to the school hostel. Prior to that I was staying with my
foster mother on the fringe of Pasir Mas town. We were in Form 4 then. Reading
story books was my main passion then compared to preparing for my examinations.
Since the Overseas School Certificate
(OSC)/Malaysian School Certificate(MCE) examination was only due in 1968, I
thought preparing for the examination can be done during the examination year
itself. During a Biology discussion, Ashaari asked me to describe the
alimentary system. He was horrified to know that I could not describe it. The
alimentary system was elementary to students of a science class who were due to
sit for the OSC/MCE examination in slightly less than a year's time. He
immediately asked me to move into the hostel and promised to talk to the hostel
master for a place for me. I definitely was qualified to stay in the hostel
with my home located 10 miles away, compared to Ashaari whose home was just a mile
away from the school gate. A short letter addressed to the Hostel Master, Mr.
G. Thanda, and handing the letter personally to him was all it took to enable
me to join the hostel life for the second time. I cannot recall the exact date
of my return to the hostel nor could I recall how I carried my beddings and few
belongings to the hostel.
Squatting
L – R Awang Che Seman, Suhaimi Jaafar, Unknown, Aziz Ahmad, Noorudin Ramli,
Unknown.
Standing
L – R Ghani Senik, Muhamad Jusoh, Mahmood Awang Kechik (Dato’ Dr.) Abbas Akbar(deceased)
Bong Lot (deceased), Unknown, Rahim Jusoh (deceased), Che Ahmad Che Daud.
A 1967or earlier picture of the hostel residents on one of their free days. Only three persons can be identified, Wan Kassim(Dato’), Abbas Akbar (deceased)and Ariffin Ibrahim.
The hostel dwellers having lunch. Being photographed was truly exciting and everybody wanted to be in frame.
Nearest to camera: Che Ahmad Che Daud.
Standing: Nasir Che Mat(deceased), Wan Ali Wan Mat, Wan Kassim
(Dato’)
Being a school prefect I was automatically appointed as the hostel prefect. A prefect had slightly more privileges. Life changed for the better for me since now I will no longer be going to class with an empty stomach. Meals will be regular. There will also be games in the evenings and prep after dinner till 11 pm for the seniors. Those who were in Form 5 and preparing for the OSC/MCE examination will continue studying until the wee hours. A more regimented study hours and studying with my peers helped improve my grades.
Mr. G. Thanda demonstrated how to be an effective Hostel Master. We
rarely saw him around the hostel except during his occasional walk around the
dorm. One night during prep class, Abdul Rahman Hassan Koya (deceased), was
fooling around by going out of the prep class and was making some silly dance
moves. The next minute we saw Mr. Thanda walked over to him and in the sight of
everyone gave Rahman several tight slaps on both cheeks. Rahman felled down and Mr. Thanda helped him
up to his feet and the slapping continued. That was the one and only time that
we saw Mr. Thanda punished any one of us but the impact was long lasting. That
served as a strong reminder to all of us that though unseen, Mr. Thanda could
be somewhere in the darkness watching us.
Playing Pranks
Another memorable incident in my hostel life that year was when one
night I got drenched while in deep slumber. I must have been boastful after prep
class and somebody thought that I needed to be taught a lesson. The way it was usually
done was to place a small container full of water on your mosquito net while
you were sound asleep. The weight of the container filled with water will
gradually lower itself until it finally reached a certain level whereby any
body movement will cause the container to spill its content on you. It was more
like a time bomb that will drench your body,the blanket and the mattress. I got
mine on the night when Pasir Mas was at the height of the monsoon season and
flood water was close to overflowing the Kelantan river bank.
I was so frustrated that I took my revenge on the most innocent of
persons who happened to be sleeping on the bunk above me. The victim cursed
aloud and the dormitory light was switched on. With lots of guilt, I pretended
to be asleep. The person who slept above me was none other than my best friend
Ghani Senik (now Tuan Haji). So Tuan
Haji, I was the one who caused your cold discomfort that night. I believed many
knew that I was the one who did it but they just did not point me out. Snitching was not our way of life in the
hostel.
Later I found out from Ashaari that it was Suhaimi Jaafar who set
the water bomb on me. When I met Suhaimi in London in June 2009 and related him incident, he
could not recall it at all. Suhaimi had then migrated to England.
Meeting Suhaimi Jaafar again (beside me in dark suit) after 41 years. If you are curious about the persons in front of me, they are of Wan Hulaimi aka Awang Goneng the famous Malaysian reporter cum writer based in London and his spouse Kak Teh, another famous correspondent.
The Teachers Went On Strike
There was not really much to recall for the year 1967. The
Teachers Union went on strike over some dissatisfaction over the teachers’
terms of service. The teachers carried
placards and hangout outside the school compound. However, classes were
conducted as usual and there was no disruption to our studies. However, the
teachers boycotted all extracurricular activities and we were left very much on
our own as far as these activities were concerned. There was no Sports Day and
even, Sempana, the school magazine was not published.
The end of year school holidays gave us all a chance to return to
our families. I went back to my village to help my parent plant tobacco, the
main cash crop in Kelantan then. Tobacco planting was a lucrative industry then
and the crop was planted on a large scale with a ready market ensured by
Malayan Tobacco Company.
Life in the Hostel in 1968
The 1968 hostel residents. In blazers, from left, Aziz Ahmad, Mahmud Awang Kechik (Dato’ Dr.) Mr. Loo Hock Guan, Che Ahmad Che Daud, Mr. Thanda (Hostel Master), Ismail Yusoff (Dato’, deceased;the School Headboy cum Hostel Headboy), Mr. Yussof Ghouse (deceased; the school Headmaster), Abas Akbar (deceased), Mr. Maniam, Mohamad Zawawi Ahmad and Mr. Pang Chok Chu (deceased).
The year 1968 was my final year of stay in the hostel. I consider it as the most memorable part of my hostel life.
Some of us were being cheeky. Whenever a group of girls were to
walk along the road in front of the hostel on their way to class, they will be
taunted with marching chants from the hostel residents of ‘left, right, left, right, left, right’ making
it most uncomfortable for them to walk. Most of them ended up running to the
school or avoid that route in front of the hostel altogether.
The
teachers had ceased their boycott of the extracurricular activities after their
Union dispute with the government was resolved. Everybody seemed to be making
up for lost times with the school calendar full of
activities. All school societies were moving at full speed. Every weekend was
slated for at least one activity, sometimes two. So much so that we were hard
up to find a place to hold our activities. Even the hostel dining hall became an
activity venue.
Most of the hostel residents were active in sports and were
represented in almost every sport. An obvious sportsman among the hostel
resident and the school was the late Abas Akbar. He was an icon of a sportsman
and excelled in almost every sport, be it athletics or team events. Later he
played for Malaysia and scored a goal at the Asian Youth Football Tournament in
Manilla Phillipines in 1970.
The Bachang Tree
Once a week we had a free night where we were free to do our own
things and could opt not to attend prep. One particular free night we had
nothing better to do and we were hungry. Some of us decided to collect unripe bachang(Mangifera foetida) fruits, a poor cousin of the mango. The tree was
located at the fringe of the school field on the side of the primary school and
almost immediately in front of the semi-detached quarters occupied by both the
primary and secondary school Headmasters.
Mr. Ahmad Rahman, the primary school Headmaster was the first to
notice our group of raiders and he informed our Headmaster of what we were
doing. The late Mr. Yusoff Ghouse, our Headmaster, came towards us and told us
to go back to the hostel. He told us there were ghosts on the bachang tree which of course we did not
believe. Out of respect we backed off carrying with us the few fruits plucked
by the climbers. Everything would have gone off peacefully if not for the
realization that one of the three climbers was thought to be still on the tree.
He was Ibrahim Hussein.
Some of us decided to go back and to look for him. Instead of just
a few, almost all of the 60 hostel boys followed making a real din that Mr.
Yusoff thought we were defying his orders to leave the fruit tree alone. By
then Mr. Yusoff was already running after us. Pandemonium broke loose and we
ran helter skelter in every directions. He angrily chased after us but we were
too fast for an old man of his age. Further, the school compound was our home
and even in the darkness of the night we can easily outran him to hide behind
the many school buildings. He finally went back to the hostel building, and
surprise of all surprises, he managed to catch hold of Nik Hassan Nik Mat. Nik
Hassan could have easily escaped from the Headmaster’s hold had he wanted to
but out of respect Nik Hassan apologized and followed him. Nik Hassan’s last post prior to his
retirement was the Officer-in-Charge (OCPD) of Shah Alam Police Contingent!
With Nik Hassan in his hold, the Headmaster called the hostel
master Mr. G. Thanda and asked us to gather in the teachers’staff room. Prior
to the gathering, Mr. Thanda asked us to meet in the hostel's dining hall as he
wanted to know the reason for the commotion. He called on me to speak up. I
told him that 'it was sheer panic' that we ran away when the Headmaster came
after us when we were actually on a mission to rescue Ibrahim Hussein from the
tree. He gave us his fatherly smile and we know that he was not angry with us.
After all we were just a bunch of hungry young boys on a free night and not meaning
any harm. The noticeable absence in the meeting with the Hostel Master was a
hostel prefect who chose to escape by climbing over the school fence to avoid
being caught. There and then Mr. Thanda stripped him of the hostel's
prefect-ship.
We were made to gather in the teachers’ staff room. It was almost
midnight. One by one we were made to bend over and had our butt caned by Mr.
Thanda. The number of strokes depended on the age and size of the boy, and at the
command from the Headmaster. The smallest and youngest from the primary school
received one stroke. The bigger ones received more. When it came to Abas
Akbar's turn, the Headmaster said "that boy is a big bull, give him
five". We know Mr. Thanda was pulling the punches because he was using the
middle of the cane instead of the tip of it and the blow was not at full
strength. The Headmaster seemed to realize it and wanted to take over the
caning. "If you don’t know how to cane, let me cane them myself", he
snapped angrily. Of course Mr. Thanda would not let him but instead made it
appear that he was hitting us a little bit harder.
Should the Malaysian Guinness Book of records be already in
existence then, this could have easily be entered as a record as the largest
number of pupils (more than 50) being caned in one session for the same
offense. I dare say that this record will never ever be bettered anywhere
anytime.
At the school assembly the next Sunday, the Headmaster announced
what happened during that week but he obviously omitted telling the real cause
of the pandemonium. He told the assembly that he had never been made to run
that hard in his life. Other than the hostel residents, the rest of the assembly
was very vague as to what really happened
then.
The Night of a Thousand Stars
The highlight of the year was Malam
Seribu Bintang(The Night of a Thousand Stars), a two night stage show where
students’ talents were showcased. The hostel students were allotted a slot to
perform and we chose to perform a dance drama entitled “A Gangfight In Golden
Sand”. It was based on the dance style of West Side Story and without any
dialogues.
The dance drama was
performed with the sound tracks from the film The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.
Since the idea was mine, I took on one of the main roles. The story revolved
around two gamblers, played by a form four student Natpi(deceased) and yours
truly. One of whom cheated the other leading to a gangfight. The gang leaders
were played by Mahmud Awang Kechil(Datuk Dr.) and Ashaari Amin. The original
line was supposed to end with Ashaari being killed by a stab of the knife. Before
that happened, Mahmud had accidentally nicked Ashaari’s thigh with the sharp knife. Blood
oozed out from the wound, dripping to the floor. The audience was unaware that
real knife was used until Mahmud dropped the knife and the knife stuck upright
with the tip embedded on the wooden stage floor. Fortunately, the performers
kept their cool and the show went on unimpeded. Ashaari was helped out from the
stage by his gang members and rushed to the clinic to have his wound sutured.
We were given permission to perform on the second night with the expressed condition that no real knife was to be used. We bought a realistic looking plastic knife as a replacement. The late Abbas Akbar took over Ashaari’s role for the second night’s performance. The audience had a good laugh when the knife bounced off instead of sticking to the floor when dropped during the gang fight like what happened on the first night.
The Examination
This was the year my class of fifth formers was facing the OSC/MCE
examination. Two certificates were awarded for one examination sitting. It was
the second last year that the OSC was awarded as it was discontinued after
1969.The MCE was also replaced with the equivalent Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia (SPM).
Due to peer pressure among the hostel residents, we studied hard
for the examination. Most of us studied late into the night. Towards the end of
the year we could discern each other’s sunken eyes due to lack of sleep.
Particularly noticeable was Ghani Senik's skin which became so loose that it
could be pulled against the flesh. That was really hard work. I took a much
less strenuous approach and did not burn much of the midnight oil until very
near the examination itself. I was too busy with my extra-curricular
activities.
The exam came at the end of the year. We had to sit for the exam
at Sekolah Sultan Abdul Hamid in town. When the result was announced in the
early part of 1969, 13 of us from the hostel passed the exam with a grade one
in at least one or both to be awarded the OSC/MCE certificates. Quite an
achievement for students who were very active in sports and other extracurricular
activities. The hostel provided us with a very conducive environment to develop
ourselves and the best of atmosphere to study.
Armed with our exam results, we went our separate ways in pursuit
of our education and careers in life. Many did very well later in their lives.
The old wooden hostel was later demolished and replaced with a new
double storey building. To many of us and former hostel teachers, the old
hostel building was home for some years of our life. Camaraderie and
brotherhood was instilled among us as a family away from home. Memories of our
life then will forever be cherished.
Front
Row: Shafie, Mohamad Zawawi Ahmad, Che Ahmad Che Daud
Middle
Row: Natpi (deceased), Aziz Ahmad, Abbas Akbar (deceased)
Back
row: Bong Lok(deceased), Mohd Nor Hassan.
Epilogue
In February 2017, about 60 of us who stayed at the old hostel from
1966 to 1970 were reunited at a gathering held at a hotel in Kota Bharu. Present
as our guests of honour were teachers; Mr. Abdul Rahman Ali, Dato Dr. Toh Kin
Woon, Mr. G. Thanda, Mr. Loo Hock Guan, Mrs. Foo (formerly Miss Wong An Yu) and
Chegu Halim Hassan. It was great to reconnect and see each other again after a
span of almost 50 years.
Reunion of the SIS Hostel residents (1966 -1970) on 20.02.2017 at Grand Riverview Hotel Kota Bharu.
Among the teachers present: Dato’ Dr. Toh Kin Woon, Puan Wong An Yu, Mr. Abdul Rahman Ali, Mr. G. Thanda and Mr. Loo Hock Guan.
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