Monday, 30 August 2021

Straits Echo


THIS IS quite a well-known picture, a three-storey building that once housed the venerated Straits Echo Press newspaper. I have no idea when the newspaper located its operations here but very long ago, it used to operate from a shophouse in Beach Street. In the 1960s, I do remember seeing the building at this spot – the corner of Penang Road and Dato Koyah Road – but never in my wildest dreams then could I foresee that one day in the 1970s, I would have this newspaper as my first employer, albeit only for a short six-month stint.

I said venerated because where the Press was concerned, this English language daily was the pride of Penang. Often, it carried news that the more national-level The Straits Times, with its headquarters in Singapore, was unable to report first-hand. Before the Second World War, The Straits Times occasionally had to rely on re-printing news that had earlier appeared in the Straits Echo. Thus in a way, the latter, despite its regional coverage, was seen as an ultimate source of authority for news about Penang.

Like The Straits Times, the Straits Echo newspaper was a broadsheet which was a large format and somewhat unwieldy to hold. To keep up with the times, but more to challenge The Star newspaper which hit the streets in 1971, the Straits Echo transformed into a tabloid in the 1970s. With it came a new name, The National Echo, and blue was adopted as its colour for the masthead in contrast to The Star’s red. The competition with The Star was keen and at one stage, an evening edition – the so-called street edition – of the newspaper was introduced so that readers could read that day’s news on the same day. Later, The National Echo opened an office in Kuala Lumpur and shifted its centre of operations there. Unfortunately, it could not compete with the likes of New Straits Times, The Malay Mail and The Star, and The National Echo folded in 1986.

When I worked there in the 1970s, the newspaper was owned by someone named KK Liew. The editor was a Eurasian named Wilson de Souza while the senior editors were Cheah Cheong Lin and Sunny Tan. The chief reporter was a very loud man named G Ratnam. Among my peers were people like Kee Thuan Chye, Ung Mah Pheng, Ong Thean Seang and Ooi Kee Beng. The last named is now the Executive Director of Penang Institute.

© Quah Seng Sun

Updates and add-ons:

Lim Siang Jin: 

  • My great grandfather, Lim Cheng How, used to manage the company that owned the Straits Echo. This is from my grandfather’s memoirs: “Attached to the Criterion Press, Ltd, former proprietors of the Straits Echo, the premises of which were at Nos 226 and 228 Beach Street, presumably as an assistant, my father rose to the appointment of manager with, I believe, a salary of $100/- pm which was then considered excellent pay having regard to the fact that the cost of living was cheap”.
  • In the mid-1980s, the late Soo Ewe Jin (later one of the Deputy Executive Editors of The Star)  and I were approached to come up with a plan to revive The National Echo, perhaps take it back to Penang and focus on news from the north again. We were both working for ISIS Malaysia then. Both from Penang, we were quite excited about the project, however, nothing came out of it.

Friday, 27 August 2021

Resilience


THIS WAS a story from The Star newspaper last Wednesday, the 25th of August. Although it correctly stated that Hwang Hong Shi taught at the Westlands School, the translation into SMK Westlands was wrong. SMK Westlands is Westlands Secondary School which opened in 1957. Westlands School was the primary school which is today the Westlands Centre for Sports Excellence, the premises still located in Victoria Green Road. But Master Hwang did indeed teach at both schools: Westlands School in the 1950s and Westlands Secondary School in the 1970s.

GEORGE TOWN: Having hid in the jungles of Sitiawan, Perak, as a child over four long years during the Japanese occupation, octogenarian Hwang Hong Shi has cherished every day of his life since.

Recalling the dark chapter, the 87-year-old retired teacher said he was only eight when he fled into the wilderness with his family.

“We heard they were beheading Chinese school teachers, and both my parents were teachers.

“They weren’t very good at farming and being the eldest, I had to help out as much as I could.

“My father would dig up the ground and I would plant paddy seeds.

“I also learnt to fish in the river,” he said, adding that the family lived in fear inside a hut they had built.

Hwang said there was often not enough food for the family of five.

“We had to make do with what we could get our hands on, like sweet potatoes, tapioca and plain rice to stay alive,” he said at his home in Taman Sri Nibong.

He said he could never forget his anxiety back then.

“The times we sneaked into the neighbouring towns fearing execution, to the times we ate tree roots out of hunger – we had to be resilient to be able to survive,” he said, adding that these were the qualities he applied in his daily life throughout his career as a teacher, then a general manager.

Hwang said that when the British took over, things improved.

“I began my schooling, but it still felt like we were living under someone else’s roof. Our future was uncertain,” he said.

He was a 23-year-old teacher in 1957 when Merdeka was declared.

“I did not know much about national affairs then, so I didn’t understand the political aspect of it, but to me, Independence meant better opportunities for all and freedom from conflict,” he said.

Born in Sungai Siput, the Perakian dedicated 37 years of his life to teaching in several schools, including the then Westland School (now SMK Westlands), Sekolah Umum Permatang Pasir in Seberang Prai, Penang Free School and the International School of Penang (Uplands).

Wednesday, 25 August 2021

Ten Thousand Prosperities

HOW MANY Old Westlanders from both the primary and secondary schools were customers of Ban Hin Lee Bank (or BHL Bank) in the past? I guess many of us were. To a great extent, BHL Bank was part of our daily lives: we either borrowed money from the bank or deposited our money with it. Then there were the coinboxes. Too many to mention but all have become collectors’ items. 

At the height of its banking business in the 1990s, its visibility among the local community was considered second to none. Among my batch of primary schoolmates (Class of 1965), I know of only two – Khoo Kay Liang and myself – who were in the bank’s employment. We joined in the mid-1970s and continued until BHL Bank was merged into Southern Bank in 2000. A total of 23 years in my case, a very long time indeed. I wouldn’t have stayed if working conditions and social activities were not right in this One Big Harmonious Family. In the 1980s and 1990s, many of the staff that joined were barely out from their school uniforms. The bank took them in if their Form Six academic results were good enough but many were also selected for their sport prowess. 

Today, more than 20 years have passed since the merger. With the passing of time, the memories that my friends and former colleagues harbour of the bank are at risk of being forgotten. Recognising that more memories could be lost in the future, I had embarked on a project two years ago to collect a verbal history of BHL Bank’s halcyon days. Penang’s most loved home-grown bank is now remembered in this book which I’ve aptly called “Ten Thousand Prosperities: The Story of Ban Hin Lee Bank.” The “ten thousand prosperities” in the title comes from the literal translation of the bank’s name in Hokkien: 萬興利  

The video below gives a quick flip through my old memories. A small slice of Penang's history. Hope you enjoy it. 

© Quah Seng Sun

Sunday, 1 August 2021

Protecting children: Four disadvantaged groups to focus on

By Jim Lim

MALAYSIA may have acceded to the Convention for the Rights of the Child in 1995 and passed the Child Act in 2001, but key challenges remained and have to date, shown few signs for optimism.

At the heart of the problem lies the country’s vague definition of “nationality” as derived from its founding Constitution, resulting in complex and exaggerated inconsistencies and contradictions over children in general. These problems are particularly acute in marginalised communities and among those from disadvantaged groups.

The difficulties can be seen at the legislative level on private law on children and on public law. This is where the definition of, criteria for and access to fundamental rights and services become even more confusing.

Orang Asli children: The community lacks in educational facilities and development
investments. Source: Muhammad Adzha, Wikimedia Commons

Legal practitioners will attest to the complexities and the absence of transparency in child care law, especially in fundamental rights and duties. For example, there is a disproportionate high number of years for a child to apply for and attain citizenship, only because Malaysia does not grant automatic citizenship by birth and its differential treatment on the sex and national status of the parents.

This private law conundrum above is not the purpose of this paper. However, it is the provisions and the denial of services through a fundamental human rights’ deficit in the public law aspects that is the subject of our current attention.

We refer to the situation of children at greatest disadvantage or “marginalised” by the circumstances of their birth, upbringing or status. The following groups have come to our attention and their current situation:

  • Children, mostly orphans, brought up in state-run children’s homes,
  • Children from the refugee communities,
  • Children from rural and poor communities, e.g. the Orang Asli community
  • Children in wedlock.

Children brought up in care in residential institutions

Orphans raised in care homes are common practice. They are placed in establishments run by private entities, by voluntary (NGO) groups, usually religious organisations, and by the social welfare department.

In general, children who become orphans fall under those abandoned or abused and would normally end up in residential establishments. The length of stay can range from a few weeks to many years, including up to 18 years old. As there is no formal legislative procedure for the rescue and safeguarding of vulnerable or children “at risk”, many different stakeholder agencies intervene in their own way to help.

There is no requirement (legislative compliance) on standards of care for these  establishments looking after/caring for such socially dislocated children. Whilst many home owners and management provide excellent to good care, there is no way to prevent abuse, physical, emotional or sexual, by a minority unsuitable care staff, especially against a backdrop of wider cultural  paternalistic views about children. There have been voices raised by some of the children themselves on their abuse.

Much of these concerns have come from “Perbak” (Pertubuhan Kebajikan & Sosial Malaysia) an organisation set up by an ex-resident child in care. The high-profile leader, Muhammad Khairul Hafiz Abdullah, had stayed at a place where it is alleged that there are hundreds of abused children now adults. They have come to recall their painful experiences. It is the government-run orphanages that Perbak is referring to, in this instance, and the majority are Malay-Muslim boys.

Furthermore, many of these former children in government care are deemed either undocumented or stateless. Being “stateless” means that access to many government services is denied. Moreover, most are left to fend for themselves once they reach the age of 18.

Read more about Perbak here, here and here in reports by The Star. Also a letter by this author here.

Children who have suffered abused whilst in “public care” should be appropriately compensated for the suffering endured. Nothing is worse than having one’s childhood heartlessly taken away. Discharging formal responsibility at the age of 18 or abandoning such young adults to fend on their own and further denying them “citizenship” undermines any concept of civility in a developed nation.

In terms of alternative substitute parenting and care, the concept of “family fostering” or professionally-paid fostering support is not well developed in Malaysia. In many developed countries, such family substitute care is widely promoted through government investment, with its suitability and popularity endorsed by child care experts over often large institutional/residential care.

Children from the refugee communities

Refugees in Malaysia are normally accredited through the UN resettlement programme and almost all are awaiting disposal to a third safe country as Malaysia restricts the numbers it accepts. Therefore, many are resident in situ pro-tem until a country in the West takes them.

Refugee children are sadly denied access to local schools and any education provided to them is from voluntary NGOs or local religious organisations like the church. Adult refugees are allowed to take some employment and local work but on limited reduced hours.

Children from the Orang Asli community

The plight of the Orang Asli (OA) community in Malaysia is well documented and the government’s acknowledgment is a positive sign that some help and resources are available. In short, this indigenous community is widely acknowledged as amongst the rural poor.

However, it remains the case that there is systemic discrimination against the community throughout the country and their resultant marginalisation has a negative impact in aspects of health outcomes, educational and positive social outcomes.

The OA community is largely in rural communities in most states of peninsular Malaysia and in East Malaysia. Most are employed in the agriculture sector although many OA are emerging as community activists campaigning for equal participation and representation and greater allocation of resources for their community. The government’s paid lip service over the years has gone hand-in-hand with the private sector continued labour-exploitation within the agricultural sectors. NGOs have complained bitterly about the disproportionate and unequal allocation of educational resources and lack of investment for the development of the community.

Child marriage

The issue of child marriage is a controversial one. The UN raised this as a concern as far back as 1995. The United Nations Sustainable Development Goals is calling for “global action to end this human rights violation by 2030” (read here). A pertinent matter in many Muslim countries is around the dual legal systems of civil law and shariah law; the latter permitting marriage in exceptional circumstances for a child. A local prominent NGO, “Voice of the Children” (read more here) publicised the issue as recent as 2013, together with “Girls not Brides” (read more here), a global organisation on girls being forced in wedlock.

The PH Government began to address the issue of child marriage, as well as reinforced “Help lines” for child safety. However, with the new PN government’s more conservative outlook, the outright ban widely sought for appears “on hold”.

Child marriages are abhorrent. It is a human rights issue. They deny and take away a child’s right to growing up and there is no rationale for not ending the practice by passing legislation and banning it outright.

Conclusion

It is difficult to defend the government’s record in matters on safeguarding and the protection for children. There remains a lack of regulation for the care of vulnerable groups in our society and much reliance is inappropriately placed on the shoulders of the voluntary or religious groups and where business and profits are to be made, on the private sector. Therefore, enforceable regulation and strict standards in operation when private sector companies provide services is necessary to promote safeguarding and well being.

With regards to legislative framework there is much to be getting on with, the Sexual Exploitation Act 2017 following from laws on prohibitive child employment, care centres, domestic violence etc but there is little evidence of effective co-ordination or collective responsibility on enforcement action. In short, existing laws are not effectively enforced and proposed social policy legislation suffers from inertia and delays.

Strikingly absent is also regulation for those seeking employment as care givers, care workers or wardens in residential institutions. For example, are they suitably qualified to care for children? Are those staff members adequately vetted?

Lack of compliance and enforcement on premises suitable and fit for purpose, i.e. safety access, fire escapes, was a contributory cause to the tragic fire at a tahfiz school or madrasa resulting in the deaths of 21 children and two teachers. Although it was a criminal act, there was evidence of neglect and non-compliance by the building owners. Read more here.

Finally, the much overdue recognition of social work as a profession, the Social Workers’ Act, all up and ready for legislative consent has been delayed yet further as the government ponders and treads along its various priorities.

Besides putting a proper framework for social care and assistance to vulnerable groups in society such as children, there is an equal need to obtain social justice for the country’s disadvantaged children most of whom were brought up in institutional settings as opposed to, in family settings.

  • Jim Lim is a former Director of Social Services in a London Borough, a former CEO of a charity. He is retired and is from Penang. He is a Member of the Malaysian Association of Social Workers. Read more about him here