The RM200 That Was Supposed to Be a Loan
“I don’t have money for the bus fare, Man, that’s why I haven’t been going to campus,” my friend, who lived outside the hostel (dok rumah sewa) , told me. That answered all the questions as to why he had not appeared in class for three days.
Without hesitation I told him, “It’s okay, use my money. We use it for food and to go to class. When both of us have no money left, then we don’t go to class, he he he,” I said, seriously but joking at the same time.
And then I gave him RM200 so that he could `segar angin'. RM200 in 1991 was a lot of money. He considered it a loan, but I already knew he would probably never be able to pay it back... I knew his financial situation. If he didn’t pay, it was okay with me.
So I can say that sometimes I also had no money while studying in UM. Actually, that RM200 was money my father had given me. My father was a district council member, and every time there was a meeting he received RM50, at least four meetings a month. He asked the secretary to bank the money directly into my account. And every month my father also sent me pocket money. At that time, my father was still actively involved with politicians and businessmen.
Sometimes I Had No Money Too
Although I should have had enough money, there were times when I simply did not have enough. So, throughout my years of studying, I also experienced what it was like to be short of money.
Once, I bought one salted egg. I cut it into two and kept it in my locker. One half was for breaking fast, and the other half was for sahur. Tapi adalah lauk-lauk lain juga.
That was how life was as a student. Sometimes we had money, sometimes we didn’t. There were times when even a single salted egg had to be planned properly half for tonight, and the other half for tomorrow morning.
When Perhimpunan Agung UMNO Made Me Rich
But that is how life is, isn’t it? Sometimes we just don’t have enough money. Sedangkan the Sultan of Brunei was doing business and investing bagai, I was doing the same in my own little way. Still nowdays if I didn’t have enough money, I would just buy facial cleanser at Waltson. I wasn’t embarrassed.
Every year, I looked forward to the UMNO General Assembly at the World Trade Centre Kuala Lumpur (WTC KL). I would suddenly become rich. My father would come to KL. He would go to PWTC with his friends, who were businessman. My father considered himself simply a friend of these people.
My father’s friends were very generous, and I would get some money.
The Limousine, Dunhill and the RM700 Jacket
And there was one time when a limousine came to pick me up at Section 17 Hostel and took me to Yohan and Sogo so I could buy whatever I wanted. I wasn’t greedy. I only bought two shirts, two Dunhill shirts, actually. I had been drooling over them whenever I saw them behind the glass. Dia letak dalam almari kaca. They were only around RM245 each. The shirts were very thin and dried quickly.
I also took one Camel jacket. It was quite ugly, actually, but it cost around RM700. My father’s friend paid for everything.
I wore the shirts to lectures and around the hostel.
The Economics Lecturer and My RM245 Shirt
But one day, during a lecture on supply, demand and price determination, my economics lecturer said, “I never buy a shirt that costs more than RM50. That would be a stupid thing to do.”
I felt hurt. I felt wounded there in the lecture hall, with more than 300 students around me... even though I was sitting at the back. He he he.
I defended myself by saying silently in my heart, “But it wasn’t me who bought the shirt. My father’s friend paid for it.”
I also bought kilos of Famous Amos biscuits for my friends.

