The Long Road Beyond Tanjung Lobang

My journey into adulthood began in the quiet yet meaningful surroundings of Tanjung Lobang, where the salty sea breeze and long evenings of uncertainty still linger vividly in my memory. This was between 1976 and 1977, the first time I stepped beyond the small world of Mukah, carrying both excitement and quiet fear in my heart.

Like a young bird leaving its familiar nest, I found myself exposed to new people, ideas, and realities far beyond my hometown. Those years widened my horizons and marked the beginning of a lifelong journey of learning and self-discovery.

The two years I spent at Kolej Tun Datuk Tuanku Haji Bujang were among the most formative periods of my life. Tanjung Lobang was not merely a place where I pursued my education; it was where my character, discipline, and aspirations were quietly forged, as iron tempered in fire. The environment was simple, the facilities modest, and life far from luxurious, yet the experiences I gained there became the bedrock upon which I later built my life.

Students from various ethnic backgrounds, including the Orang Ulu community, often shared noodles and bread. Most of us came from B40 families, and that spirit of solidarity and mutual care bound us together like threads in the same woven mat. In that humble setting, my passion for literature and writing began to blossom. We immersed ourselves in works such as Keluarga Gerilya by Pramoedya Ananta Toer and Ranjau Sepanjang Jalan by Shahnon Ahmad, who would later become my dean at Universiti Sains Malaysia School of Humanities after I passed my Higher School Certificate (HSC).

In those days, Miri was still growing, and students depended greatly on self-discipline and determination. We did not have modern technology, digital libraries, or instant access to information as students enjoy today. Learning demanded patience, persistence, and sacrifice. Many of us came from ordinary families and understood that education was the only bridge to a better future. I was among those who believed deeply that knowledge could transform one’s destiny and light a path through even the darkest uncertainty.

One memory remains especially vivid: I had no pocket money, and there were days when hunger, embarrassment, and uncertainty walked beside me like silent companions. Without extra money of my own, even the smallest needs felt like mountains to climb.

Every sen had to be stretched carefully, and many simple comforts remained beyond reach. Life taught me early that hardship could either break a person or shape one into something stronger.

Comforts were few and luxuries even fewer, so resilience became an essential part of daily life rather than something consciously chosen. Yet beneath those struggles flowed a quiet river of endurance. We adapted, supported one another, and carried on without much complaint — not because life was easy, but because giving up was never an option. Like bamboo bending in the wind, we learned to survive without losing our roots.

I always looked forward to weekends because I could stay with my relatives at Kampung Dagang and enjoy better meals. During the weekdays, life often felt repetitive and difficult, but the thought of the weekend became a small lantern of hope at the end of each tiring week.

At Kampung Dagang, the atmosphere felt warmer and more comforting. The smell of home-cooked meals, the familiar voices, and the laughter around the dining area soothed the loneliness I often carried through the week. The meals there were lovingly prepared, and even the simplest dishes tasted richer because they were shared with family. Sitting together, sharing stories over food, and speaking about everyday life created a sense of belonging that I treasured deeply. Those weekends became an oasis amid the harsh rhythm of student life, and even now, decades later, the memory of those simple moments still warms my heart.

Living and studying near Tanjung Lobang also exposed me to a disciplined way of life. The calm seaside environment encouraged reflection and focus. Many evenings were spent revising lessons, exchanging ideas with friends, and quietly contemplating the future that lay beyond the horizon. At the same time, I became increasingly aware of the social realities surrounding us — poverty, inequality, rural underdevelopment, and the importance of leadership. These observations gradually nurtured my interest not only in education but also in social issues and politics.

I often wore shorts while many other students wore trousers, and although nobody openly mocked me, I sometimes felt painfully out of place. At times, I felt like a lone ripple in a sea of conformity. Seeing others dressed more neatly or formally affected my confidence, and there were moments when I withdrew into silence, uncertain of where I belonged.

Yet time, as it often does, became a gentle teacher.

Gradually, I came to understand that clothing does not define a person’s worth or abilities. What truly matters is character, effort, and the kindness we extend to others. Although those experiences were emotionally challenging, they taught me not to judge myself too harshly based on outward appearances. In hindsight, those moments of insecurity became stepping stones towards emotional maturity.

My teachers during those years played a profound role in shaping my ambitions. They were dedicated educators who believed in their students’ potential despite limited resources. Their patience, kindness, and quiet belief in struggling students like me left a lasting impression upon my heart and inspired me to pursue a career in education. I admired the way they nurtured young minds and contributed quietly yet meaningfully to nation-building. From them, I learned that teaching was not merely a profession but a sacred responsibility to society.

After completing my studies, my journey was far from easy. Like many young Malaysians of my generation, I had to struggle and work tirelessly to build my future step by step, brick by brick. There were moments of uncertainty and challenges that tested my perseverance. Yet the values I had acquired during my Form Six years — discipline, resilience, humility, and determination — continued to guide me like stars in a night sky.

I began my career as an educator with a sincere desire to help students discover their potential. Teaching brought me profound fulfilment because I viewed education as a powerful tool for empowerment and social mobility. Over the years, I taught students from diverse backgrounds and experiences. Each classroom became more than a place of academic learning; it became a space where character, confidence, and intellectual curiosity could flourish.

As I gained experience, I eventually moved into higher education and became a lecturer. This transition broadened my perspective and allowed me to engage more deeply in academic discourse, research, and public issues. Being a lecturer demanded continuous learning, intellectual discipline, and the ability to cultivate critical thinking among students. I always believed that education should produce individuals who are not only knowledgeable but also socially conscious and responsible citizens.

Alongside my academic career, I developed a passion for writing. Writing became a natural extension of my interest in education, society, and public affairs. Through articles, essays, and commentaries, I sought to share ideas, analyse issues, and contribute to public understanding. Writing enabled me to reach audiences beyond the classroom and to participate in national conversations on politics, development, governance, education, and social change.

Over time, I also became involved in political analysis. My interest in politics had, in truth, begun during my student days when I first observed the close relationship between leadership and the well-being of society. As a political analyst frequently invited to provide commentary, including live appearances on various television channels, I aimed to offer balanced perspectives and thoughtful interpretations of political developments, particularly during State Elections and General Elections.

Looking back, I sometimes find it difficult to believe how far life has carried the young village boy who once struggled merely to get by. I now realise that my achievements as an educator, lecturer, writer, and political analyst did not materialise overnight. They were the harvest of years of perseverance, continuous learning, and quiet determination. More importantly, they were deeply rooted in the lessons and experiences I gained during my years in Tanjung Lobang. Those formative years taught me the value of patience, self-belief, and lifelong learning.

Teachers such as Matilda Ho, David Wong, Poh, Au, William Laing, Fatimah Uni, Joseph Peter Somon, Joseph Nuing, and Lily Morni left an enduring impact on my life, and their names remain etched deeply in my heart like inscriptions upon stone.
Tanjung Lobang remains a special place in my memory because it symbolises the beginning of both my intellectual and personal journey. Whenever I reflect upon my life, I remember the young student who once dreamed of making a meaningful contribution to society despite limited resources and uncertainty about the future. That young man could never have imagined the many roads life would eventually unfold before him.

Today, I remain deeply grateful for every challenge, opportunity, and individual who shaped my journey. I am especially indebted to all my teachers in Tanjung Lobang. My experiences have taught me that success is not measured solely by titles or achievements, but by one’s ability to contribute positively to others and to society. Education transformed my life, and through my various roles over the years, I have tried to ensure that knowledge, critical thinking, and public awareness continue to benefit future generations.

Ultimately, my journey from Tanjung Lobang into the worlds of education, writing, and political analysis is a story of perseverance, purpose, and the transformative power of learning. It remains, to me, a deeply personal reminder that even the smallest beginnings can carry within them the seeds of extraordinary journeys.

● A message to readers:

To future students facing hardship, insecurity or uncertainty: do not let limited resources define your future. Persevere, learn continuously and believe in yourself. With discipline, resilience and determination, even the humblest beginnings can become the foundation for an extraordinary journey.