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The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 14)

Posted: 06 Dec 2012 05:20 PM PST

By the time the sellers found out whom the real buyers were, it was too late to do anything about it. The money had already been paid and the transfer completed. Masjid Rhusila now owned all the land surrounding the mosque, which used to be owned by Umno people, and nothing was going to stand in the way of the mosque expansion.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

By the late 1970s -- by then I was past my 27th birthday -- I began going to the mosque for Friday prayers. Then I started going to the mosque for my daily/regular prayers, especially Suboh, Maghrib and Isyak, plus during the entire month of Ramadhan for my Tarawih prayers. But I would sit in the rows behind and keep all to myself. I was, after all, a novice and had much to learn about the religion I was born into but hardly practiced.

Apparently, my presence in the mosque -- called Masjid Kolam, in Kuala Ibai, Kuala Terengganu, and not far from my house -- did not go unnoticed. One day, the imam, Haji Abbas Bin Khatib Muhammad a.k.a. Pak Abbas and a few members of the mosque committee came over to my house.

The Chairman of Masjid Kolam was Kol. Haji Zubir, a chap who lived across the road from where we lived, a housing area called Taman Purnama. And Kol. Zubir had just set up an Umno branch with himself as Chairman. And this upset the mosque committee who were all PAS supporters.

They requested that I take over the Chairmanship of the mosque (they told me that they were intending to oust Kol. Zubir). I was quite taken aback. I was a sort of 'newcomer' to Islam -- which is why I refer to myself as a 'Born Again' Muslim -- and could not even recite the Qur'an. And here we had a bunch of hafiz (those who have memorised the Qur'an) requesting me to head their mosque.

Incidentally, just to digress a bit, after I became the Chairman of the mosque, Pak Abbas came over to my house twice a week to teach Marina and me to read the Qur'an and within six months we were able recite it fluently, with maybe some pronunciation errors. Pak Abbas was surprised. He told us that it normally takes a few years but we were able to do it in a mere six months.

After I took over as the Chairman of Masjid Kolam, we embarked upon an expansion exercise. The mosque was an old mosque, three generations old, but there was hardly any progress or development since it was first built. We bought up the surrounding land and expanded the mosque. We also built a school and increased the area for the graveyard. Marina's mother, my mother-in-law, is in fact buried there.

Invariably, without realising it at first, I soon became very involved in opposition politics, PAS in particular. Our area was a PAS area but under Umno. Not long after that, PAS won that area and has held it ever since.

One day, officers from the Terengganu Religious Department visited our mosque to announce that they (the Terengganu Religious Department) were going to conduct an AGM the following week because our mosque had never held an AGM to elect its officer bearers.

There were loud protests from the congregation. Actually, we did hold AGMs every year not only to elect our committee members but to also table our audited accounts and annual reports. We also hold committee meetings every three months and the minutes of these meetings are also made public. We were probably one of the most transparently run mosques in the state of Terengganu.

The Terengganu Religious Department, however, said they did not recognise these elections or the committee. The government must first approve the committee and ours had not been approved by the government.

I happened to be in Kuala Lumpur that week and was not present when this happened. When Pak Abbas came to my house to inform me about what happened it was decided that I should not be present the following week so that I could deny any knowledge of whatever was going to happen. And what was going to happen was not going to be pleasant, maybe even bloodshed, so I should stay away.

The following week, officers from the Terengganu Religious Department came to our mosque with a truckload of riot police. They were not only going to sack the entire committee but the imams and bilals as well. The entire mosque congregation walked out of the mosque in protest and marched to the Rhusila Mosque to pray.

That coup attempt by the Terengganu State Government failed miserably. They eventually gave up and left us alone. However, from that day on, I was a marked man and a target for political assassination. And I would soon learn what happens to a businessman who crosses swords with Umno. But that is another story for another time, though.

I wrote in the previous episode how I first met Tok Guru Abdul Hadi Awang. I soon began to frequent his mosque, Masjid Rhusila, to listen to his lectures and sermons. It was then a small wooden mosque just like Masjid Kolam.

They were trying to expand the mosque but could not because the mosque was sitting on a very small piece of land. And the land surrounding the mosque were all owned by Umno people who refused to sell it to the mosque or to PAS people for any amount of money.

I spoke to a member of the Terengganu royal family to seek her assistance in this matter. She then approached the various landowners to offer to buy up their land. The landowners agreed to sell their land not knowing that I was actually the secret buyer and that this member of the Terengganu royal family was merely my nominee or 'front'.

The price was agreed and I arranged to make the payments, but through the lawyers. And the money would be released once they sign the transfer forms. Only the seller would be signing the transfer forms. The buyer would sign later, which is allowed as long as it is done and the transfer registered within 30 days.

Once the buyers had signed the transfer and the money was paid to them, I collected the transfer forms and handed them to PAS. PAS then appointed three nominees to act as trustees to hold the land on behalf of the mosque.

By the time the sellers found out whom the real buyers were, it was too late to do anything about it. The money had already been paid and the transfer completed. Masjid Rhusila now owned all the land surrounding the mosque, which used to be owned by Umno people, and nothing was going to stand in the way of the mosque expansion.

There was a third mosque I was involved in. And this mosque is located in Cendering, midway between Masjid Kolam and Masjid Rhusila.

There is this 'famous' mosque in Cendering where the Sultan and members of his family go to do their Friday prayers. One day, the committee invited Tok Guru Hadi to give a talk in this mosque and this upset the government. And for this 'crime' the mosque committee was sacked. The government then appointed an 'Umno' committee to take over.

The sacked committee came to see me to tell me that they wanted to set up a new mosque. And they had identified an old dilapidated surau in Simpang Empat, also in Cendering, which could be used for this purpose.

I agreed to help raise the money and they proceeded to take over the surau. Extensive renovations were then done to turn this wooden shack into a proper mosque.

When the government realised that a third anti-government mosque was about to emerge (sandwiched between two other anti-government mosques -- Masjid Kolam and Masjid Rhusila) they sprang into action.

Three truckloads of riot police were sent to the mosque and they used a chain and padlock to lock up the mosque. The kampong folk broke the padlock and 'occupied' the mosque. A couple of thousand villagers faced the police head on and bared their chests (literally). They then challenged the police to shoot them.

The police just stood there dumbfounded. The kampong folks had challenged the police and had won. The police soon left without doing anything and until today that mosque still stands and is a PAS stronghold.

The Special Branch reported to the Menteri Besar, Wan Mokhtar Ahmad, that I was the one who was behind the Cendering mosque. In fact, I was also behind Masjid Kolam and was instrumental in helping Masjid Rhusila acquire its land for expansion.

One day, a judge by the name of Sulaiman invited my business partner to lunch. The judge said he had something very urgent to tell my partner. And what he told my partner was: the government wants to detain me under the Internal Security Act. (Hence the plan to detain me was actually mooted 20 years before they did detain me in 2001).

The judge cautioned the government to tread very carefully on this matter. I was, after all, the nephew of Tengku Ampuan Bariah, the Sultan of Terengganu's consort. Hence that made it very dicey. The judge advised them to talk to me instead.

The Head of the Special Branch summoned me to his office. He then showed me my file, a very thick file indeed, and told me that I was just one step short from detention. He suggested I go meet the Menteri Besar to make my peace with Umno.

The following morning, at 7.00am, I was brought to the Menteri Besar's residence. The Menteri Besar advised me to tone down my anti-government activities and not get involved with the setting up or the expansion of any anti-government mosques. If not the government would be forced to act against me.

And that was when I decided that I had done enough in Terengganu and that it was now time to 'export' PAS to Selangor and Kuala Lumpur. And that would involve the story of Masjid Mujahidin in Damasara Utama that I related in the previous episode.

Masjid Rhusila as it was 30 years ago in 1982

Masjid Rhusila today

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 1)

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 2) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 3) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 4) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 5) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 6) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 7) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 8) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 9) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 10) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 11)  

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 12) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 13) 

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 13)

Posted: 05 Dec 2012 05:26 PM PST

I explained to Tok Guru that for 20 years since Merdeka, PAS has been having an image of a kampong party. In fact, not many people outside Terengganu know Tok Guru and even in Terengganu not everyone knows who he is. Hence PAS needed to be 'marketed' to the urban areas, the big towns and the cities, and places like Taman Tun Dr Ismail, Damansara, Bangsar, etc., are where the crème de le crème live. So Tok Guru needs to have his presence felt in these areas.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

I first met Tok Guru Dato' Seri Haji Abdul Hadi Awang in 1977, soon after he returned to Malaysia after completing his studies in Madinah and Cairo. At that time, Tok Guru was not yet well known and even I had never heard of him. A member of the Terengganu royal family, the present Sultan's aunty, introduced me to him.

I soon began to attend Tok Guru's lectures/sermons at the Masjid Rhusila. That was around the time, as I had written earlier, when I became a 'Born Again' Muslim. I hungered for knowledge and I would visit quite a number of mosques or suraus all over Terengganu to hear popular ustaz or tok guru lecture on Islam.

Ustaz Haji Awang 'Tukul Besi' of Batu Enam was another favourites of mine, as was Ustaz Kassim of Marang. And, of course, my 'resident' tok guru was Pak Abas of Masjid Kolam as well as Tok Guru Abdul Rahman Pattani of Taman Purnama.

Invariably, each tok guru had different approaches and different interpretations on what 'true' Islam is. Hence it was necessary to get a 'balanced' opinion by learning from as many tok guru as possible. Then you had to sieve through the many different opinions and come to your own conclusion.

There was this one chap who would tape-record Tok Guru Hadi's lectures and sell the cassette tapes at the Friday 'bazaar' in Rhusila. I bought a whole box of these cassette tapes and sent them down to my brother, Raja Idris, who was at that time a committee member of Masjid Mujahidin in Damansara Utama.

Raja Idris would play these tapes after the Maghrib prayers and while waiting for the Isyak prayers to start. The members of his congregation were fascinated by Tok Guru Hadi's lectures cum sermons. "Who is this guy?" they asked Raja Idris, "he is good."

Raja Idris replied that he does not know. He only knows that the chap is a PAS member. The congregation then asked Raja Idris whether he could invite this Tok Guru to come down to Kuala Lumpur to give a talk at Masjid Mujahidin.

Raja Idris contacted me and I promised to try to arrange it. I then spoke to Tok Guru Hadi and he told me that he has a full calendar. Anyhow, he will try to cancel one of his programmes and go down to Kuala Lumpur to speak at Damansara Utama.

The date was finally fixed and I bought Tok Guru his plane ticket. I also arranged for someone to fetch him from the airport and to 'look after' Tok Guru Hadi. Raja Idris then arranged to install a new PA system so that they could do justice to Tok Guru's lecture. ABIM placed banners all over Selangor to inform people about the impending talk by Tok Guru Hadi.

On the day of the event, which was a Saturday night, Masjid Mujahidin was packed. Busloads of people from all over Selangor came. The mosque, which normally would not even be half full, was overflowing and the car park had to be turned into a prayer area. People were praying on the grass and in the dirt.

The mosque committee was surprised. Never before had they seen such a crowd. And on that day the people of Selangor got to know, and fell in love with, Tok Guru Haji Abdul Hadi Awang (then not yet a Dato' Seri).

The 45-minute lecture became a two-hour lecture and the mosque committee requested Tok Guru to come again, if possible on a regular and scheduled basis. Tok Guru replied that he only agreed to a one-off thing and he was not sure whether he could devote any time to do this on a regular basis.

I explained to Tok Guru that for 20 years since Merdeka, PAS has been having an image of a kampong party. In fact, not many people outside Terengganu know Tok Guru and even in Terengganu not everyone knows who he is. Hence PAS needed to be 'marketed' to the urban areas, the big towns and the cities, and places like Taman Tun Dr Ismail, Damansara, Bangsar, etc., are where the crème de le crème live. So Tok Guru needs to have his presence felt in these areas.

Finally, Tok Guru agreed to come down to Kuala Lumpur once a month, on the first Saturday of every month. And Masjid Mujahidin would be his base to reach out to the urbanites.

That was 30 years ago.

Soon, the congregation of Masjid Mujahidin, which was practically a wooden shack squatting on a piece of land owned by the Fire Department, grew in leaps and bounds. People from all over went to that mosque. And in time that wooden shack became a multi-million Ringgit structure with air-conditioning – built entirely with non-government money.

Umno, of course, was not too happy with the success of PAS in penetrating the urban areas. And they were even unhappier about the fact that Masjid Mujahidin was being used as the base for this. And Masjid Mujahidin was squatting on a piece of land owned by the Fire Department. It was supposed to be a temporary structure, meaning wooden building. Now it was a lavish and multi-million Ringgit concrete building -- which means it has now become a permanent structure.

The Political Secretary to Anwar Ibrahim, Ibrahim Saad, got in touch with the Religious Department to ask them to demolish the mosque. It was, after all, 'illegal'. This put the authorities in a dilemma. They knew that to do such a thing was going to invite bloodshed.

Instead of demolishing the mosque, as what Ibrahim Saad wanted, the authorities gave the Fire Department an alternative piece of land at Taman Tun Dr Ismail (where the Fire Brigade now sits) and the land that Masjid Mujahidin was squatting on was 'legalised'.

That was about 30 years ago and it took almost 30 years until 2008 before PAS managed to gain acceptance in the urban areas when it won seats such as Shah Alam, etc., which in the past would never have been possible.

There are no short cuts. Change takes one generation or more to happen. The previous generation in 1980 brought PAS into the towns and cities from its 'home' in the kampongs. The present generation gave PAS its support in the towns and the cities.

And it all started because a few boxes of cassette tapes from Rhusila, Terengganu, found its way to Damansara Utama, Selangor. That started the ball rolling. But was that not also how the Islamic Revolution of Iran started, when a few boxes of cassette tapes from Paris found its way to the bazaars of Teheran in Iran?

And now do you know why I am a student of history? Because history has taught us that many times history can and will repeat itself. And those who ignore the lessons of history are doomed to repeat its mistakes.

So, no, 2008 was not an overnight wake-up call, as many believe. 2008 took almost 30 years to happen. And 2008 started in 1980 when we decided that PAS should no longer be a kampong party and a regional player. And when we 'exported' Tok Guru Hadi Awang to the big towns and cities, that began PAS's progression to national politics and launched its Long March to Putrajaya. 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 1)

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 2) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 3) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 4) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 5) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 6) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 7) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 8) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 9) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 10) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 11)  

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 12) 

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 12)

Posted: 04 Dec 2012 03:36 PM PST

But that was not my dream, though. My dream was to ride my motorcycle from Kuala Lumpur to London. Earlier I had become a member of the Automobile Association of Malaysia and had asked them to help me obtain the road maps from India to the UK. My plan was to take my motorcycle on a passenger ship from Penang to India and from India ride my motorcycle overland to the UK.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

I pulled through my MCE exam in 1967 and then decided to retire from studying while most of my contemporaries went on to do their A-level and sit for their HSC exam. There was no way I was going to continue studying and instead I did what my mother used to call 'bumming around'.

That basically means I did nothing for the two years of 1968 and 1969 except to race my motorcycle. And it was that same year, in 1968, when I participated in the Malaysian Grand Prix –- and spectacularly crashed.

I flew through the air and somersaulted a few times before coming to a stop quite a distance from my motorcycle. I rushed back to my motorcycle to continue the race but could not lift my left arm. When I unzipped my racing suit I discovered that my left wrist was broken.

That did not stop me from riding though and I continued riding with my plaster cast on. My arm itched like hell and I could not wait to remove the plaster cast. However, by the time it was supposed to have come off, the whole city was under curfew because of the May 13 riots. So I decided to cut off the plaster cast myself.

Because I had continued riding with the plaster cast on, my wrist had set in a most awkward position. My wrist was actually disfigured. My mother took me back to the University Hospital and the doctor was appalled. He just could not understand why I did not allow my wrist to set properly instead of continuing to ride with my plaster cast on resulting in my wrist being totally damaged.

The surgeon had to break my wrist again (at least this was what he told me he was going to do). When I woke up I felt so thirsty I tried to get out of bed to get a drink but could not move. My hip hurt like hell.

I called the nurse and told her that my hip hurts and she replied that that was because of the operation. What operation? It was my wrist that they were supposed to have operated on. Ah, yes, but to reset the wrist they needed to do bone grafting so they took the bone from my hip to do that.

I was never told they were going to transplant my hipbone onto my wrist. I was discharged after two weeks or so (actually I was thrown out because I was racing along the hospital corridors in a wheelchair) and was warned not to continue riding this time or else my wrist would again be damaged.

This time my wrist set beautifully and the doctor told me they could now remove the wires. What wires? It seems in grafting my hipbone to my wrist they had to use wires to tie it. Hence now they had to remove the wires. So, for the third time, I was admitted into hospital for the wires to be removed.

In 1970, most of my friends went on to university. Some went to University Malaya while those from richer families went to the UK. "What do you want to do with your life?" my father asked me. My father was amongst the first group of Malays to go to the UK soon after the Second World War. He went to Lincoln's Inn and became a barrister. He was hoping I would follow in his footsteps.

But that was not my dream, though. My dream was to ride my motorcycle from Kuala Lumpur to London. Earlier I had become a member of the Automobile Association of Malaysia and had asked them to help me obtain the road maps from India to the UK. My plan was to take my motorcycle on a passenger ship from Penang to India and from India ride my motorcycle overland to the UK.

The road maps were hand-delivered to my house. I suppose the AAM chap was very curious and wanted to personally meet the crazy person who wanted to ride his motorcycle from Kuala Lumpur to London.

I had chosen to take a ship from Penang to India so that I could avoid riding through Burma. From India I would go to Pakistan and Iran and then to Turkey and Europe.

How long this would take did not matter because I had all the time in the world. I would need to just carry spare jeans and a couple of T-shirts in my backpack and would travel 200-300 miles a day depending on the terrain and weather.

I never considered what I would do if my motorcycle broke down, if I had an accident, if I was robbed along the way, if I got sick, where I would sleep, and so on. Those were details and I was not going to allow details to get in the way of my plans. When you are 18 or 19 you tend to think like that and you would let tomorrow take care of itself.

During my two years of bumming around, and when I was not racing up and down Kuala Lumpur, I would take my bike apart and put it together again. Even when there was nothing wrong with it I would tinker with it. I also modified it and tried to make it go faster.

I was obsessed with trying to make my 100cc motorcycle go from 0-60 mph in less than five seconds. The problem with this, though, is that motorcycles in those days, especially Japanese motorcycles, did not handle well. So they were only good if you were going in a straight line. On winding roads it was like a riding a coffin.

Furthermore, the braking system in those days was very primitive. The motorcycles used drum brakes, not disc brakes. Hence, while you could go 0-60 in under five seconds, it was impossible to go 60-0 in also under five seconds. Most times you would have to hit something to come to a stop -- hence the 12 accidents that I suffered during that period.

"Okay," my father said, "since you only want to tinker with engines, I am going to send you to do an apprenticeship." And he phoned Pak Arshad, the manager of Champion Motors, the Volkswagen/Rover distributor, to request him to take me in as an apprentice.

(Those of who had been around in the 1970s/1980s probably remember Pak Arshad, which is another very interesting story).

Pak Arshad was puzzled as to why someone like me and with my family background would want to embark upon such a 'low' career. "You are overqualified for this job," he told me. "Why don't you get your father to send you to England instead to do motor engineering?"

Actually that was what I wanted. But my father did not trust me enough to let me loose in England unsupervised. He knew that the first thing I would do would be to join the Rockers (the early version of The Hells Angels). The fact that I wore a black leather jacket with a Swastika on the sleeve and the 'The Malaysian Hells Angels' painted on the back was a give away.

So my father made a deal with me. I must prove that tinkering with cars and bikes is really what I want to do and if I can survive the four-year apprenticeship he would send me to England. And I would have to serve this apprenticeship with Volkswagen.

I spent my first three months washing cars and was paid RM105 a month. Even back in 1970 that was pittance but that was the deal so I had no choice. Before each Volkswagen is sent into the workshop it has to be washed and after it has been serviced or repaired it has to be washed again.

After three months I was transferred into the workshop and was put under a Hakka mechanic. He was one loud-mouthed chap. I would greet him with 'selamat pagi' and he would respond with 'tiu niamah ka fa hai' or 'tiu na seng' or a host of other 'pardon my French' phrases.

I also had to brush up on my Chinese very fast. He would shout for me to pass him the loh si fai and I would pass him the spanner. He would throw the spanner at me and grab the screw driver and wave it in my face and scream, "Loh si fai! Loh si fai!" Ah, loh si fai, now I understood.

Most of the senior mechanics resented us apprentices. That was because they would train us and in four years we would become service advisers and hence would be their bosses who would order them around. Hence they made life difficult for us while we were still 'under them'.

But my mechanic was a lazy person. So he would train me so that I could take over all his functions. He would tell me what to do and then would disappear. Once I had finished stripping the engine, I would summon him and he would inspect the parts and tell me what needs changing. He would then disappear again.

I had to learn very fast if not I would again get a scolding -- tiu niamah ka fa hai.

It was that same year, in 1970, that almost the whole of Kuala Lumpur was flooded. The whole city practically closed down and invariably Champion Motors was submerged.

When we came back to work I was asked to clean every car on the showroom. The workshop manager, an Indian chap, wanted the cars as good as new, as if they have just come out from the factory.

I tried my best but could not get them, as what the manager wanted, 101% clean. There were still some traces of mud and anyone who has ever owned a 1960s model of Volkswagen would know why.

The manager inspected the cars and he was not satisfied. He handed me a toothbrush and told me to use the toothbrush to clean the cars. I threw down the toothbrush and told him to clean the cars himself.

I was kicked out of Champion Motors then and there. Thus ended my career as an apprentice with Volkswagen -- all due to the Great Flood of 1970.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 1)

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 2) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 3) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 4) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 5) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 6) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 7) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 8) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 9) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 10) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 11)  

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 11)

Posted: 03 Dec 2012 06:33 PM PST

It was a win-win situation. The Minister got to hand over RM6 million worth of engines to the fishermen. The fishermen could get delivery of the engines only when they needed them and not too early. I got my RM6 million order although I did not yet have RM6 million worth of engines in stock. And Barisan Nasional won 34 of the 36 seats in the Kelantan State Assembly leaving PAS with only two seats -- the first time since Merdeka that Umno ruled Kelantan (at least for 12 years until 1990 when they lost the state again to PAS).

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

By 1977 I already owned my first Mercedes Benz, a light blue 204D. A Mercedes is a mark that you have 'arrived'. Nobody would take you seriously if you drove a Fiat like me. That is a playboy's car. So I brought a Mercedes, which I brought second-hand from the Speaker of the Terengganu State Assembly who was given a state car -- so he no longer needed to keep his old car.

I paid RM30,000 for that car, quite pricey for a second-hand or used car. But I was paying for the number more than for the car (TC 848), which the Chinese appeared to like a lot. (They say it means prosperous and even after you die still prosperous -- which means prosperous for many generations). In fact, Dato' Salleh Speaker (that's what they called him) wanted the number back but I told him that I only wanted the car if it came with the number.

That was the car I drove up and down Malaysia and to every fishing village in Terengganu and Kelantan. They just needed to see that car on the horizon when they would shout, "Taukay Yanmar datang!" That car practically became my trademark. And they knew that the owner of that car could give them loans to build their fishing boats and to buy the engines and/or fishing nets.

I suppose I was like Santa Claus coming to town. And I made sure that all those who came out to greet my arrival walked away with something -- caps, T-shirts, calendars once a year at the end of the year (showing half-naked Japanese girls -- a girl for each month of the year), and so on. (Trust me, when it comes to half-naked girls, those Malay fishermen are no racists).

I would walk into the favourite watering hole of the fishermen just off their shift or about to go on shift and would tell the coffee shop owner that everything was on me. No one left that coffee shop having to pay for what they ate and drank. This was not just about marketing my Yanmar engines. This was about 'winning an election' -- me, the new kid on the block, versus the 'old boys'.

It was no longer enough that I was Taukay Yanmar. I had to be the Taiko of the Taiko, meaning the Taipan. And little did I know that in a mere few months I was going to become the Taipan Yanmar and would 'clean up' the market and monopolise the entire industry.

They say 'man proposes but God disposes'. And I learned the real meaning of that phrase that same year, November 1977 to be exact. And this is how the story goes.

In 1973, Barisan Nasional was formed and PAS, an opposition party, decided to join the ruling coalition. Three years later, PAS decided that the relationship with Umno was not working out so they decided to leave Barisan Nasional and go back to being an opposition party. Hence Kelantan, which was part of the ruling coalition, now became an opposition state, the only state under the opposition (since Gerakan still remained in Barisan Nasional).

Umno needed to grab Kelantan. But first they needed to bring down PAS.

A no-confidence motion against the Menteri Besar was tabled in the Kelantan State Assembly. 20 PAS State Assemblymen supported the motion while the 13 Umno and the solitary MCA assemblymen walked out in protest.

However, Mohamad Nasir, the Menteri Besar, refused to resign. He then requested the Regent of Kelantan to dissolve the State Assembly to make way for fresh state elections. His Highness refused and Mohamad Nasir's supporters retaliated by demonstrating in the streets resulting in violence, looting and burning.

(Actually, this whole thing was engineered by Hussein Ahmad, the Umno Kelantan warlord, but made to appear like it was a PAS 'internal conflict'. And the 'looters' and 'rioters' were gangsters brought in from Thailand).

On 8th November 1977, His Majesty the Yang di-Pertuan Agong declared a state of emergency in Kelantan. The State Assembly was suspended and the Emergency Powers (Kelantan) Act 1977 was passed by Parliament the following day giving the Federal Government power to govern the state.

In March 1978, state elections were held in Kelantan (more than three months ahead of the July 1978 General Election). PAS was successfully toppled and Umno took over the state (and held it for 12 years until 1990 when PAS-Semangat 46 ousted Umno).

Now, at this point, some of you would probably be asking: what has all that got to do with me? Well, as I said earlier, man proposes but God disposes.

Meanwhile, a month after the Kelantan Crisis, on 4th December 1977, Malaysia Airlines Flight 653 crashed in Tanjung Kupang, Johor, and in that tragedy the Minister of Agriculture, Ali Ahmad, and a few of his senior officers were killed. His Deputy, Sharif Ahmad, was then appointed the new Minister of Agriculture with Khalid Yunos as his Political Secretary.

Kelantan was about to face a state election in March 1978 followed by the general election soon after that in July. And Umno wanted to make sure that it won both Kelantan and Terengganu, strongholds of PAS. And the critical task of ensuring that the fishermen in both these states voted Umno -- who form a very large number of the voters -- was given to the new Minister of Agriculture.

So they needed to 'buy' the goodwill of the fishermen voters. And to buy this goodwill they needed to give them engines, fishing nets, boats, and whatnot. Basically, they needed Santa Claus to go around the fishing villages with handouts.

The Minister then asked his Political Secretary to find out who the biggest Yanmar engine supplier was. And everywhere they asked the name Raja Petra popped up. In January 1978, out of the blues, Khalid Yunos phoned me and asked me to go down to Kuala Lumpur to meet up with him and his Minister.

I was, understandably, extremely surprised. Never in my life has any Political Secretary phoned me to ask me to make a trip to KL to meet his boss. Very nervously I reported to the Minister's office.

The meeting was about only one thing. They wanted to know how many Yanmar engines I had in stock. I asked them how many they needed. They gave me the figure and it was huge. I would need at least a year or more to supply everything they wanted. But they wanted all that supplied within just two months, a month before the March 1978 Kelantan State Election.

Whether I got the business or not depended on whether I was able to supply their RM6 million or so order in a mere two months. I could not do it, of course, but I told them that I could.

I got the order and went home wondering how I would supply the engines in two months. They then sent me the schedule of delivery. The Minister would be touring from fishing village to fishing village over a period of a month to personally hand over the engines to the fishermen in a handing over ceremony. It was going to be a big show. And my engines were going to be the centre of attraction.

I almost had a heart attack. All I could put together was one lorry-load of engines, not the 20 or 30 lorry-loads like what they wanted. Hence I would have to perform a sort of magic trick to pull the wool over everyone's eyes.

I knew that the fishermen did not really need the engines delivered by February or March 1978. Some were halfway through building their boats while some had not even started construction yet. So, realistically, they would need the engines delivered in six months time or maybe even in a year or 18 months.

I went to meet the fishermen and told them that the engines come with a warranty. But the warranty starts from the day they take delivery of the engines. So better they take deliver only when they needed the engines or else the warranty would be 'wasted' and may even expire before they can install the engines into their boats. As a 'mark' or 'token' of delivery we would hand over just the propellers.

The fishermen agreed and on the day of the handing-over ceremony we parked the lorry-load of engines in front of the stage and handed over the propellers to the Minister who then handed them to the fishermen as a ritual of handing them the engines. We then drove the lorry to the next venue and the following day we did the same thing.

The same lorry was sent from fishing village to fishing village. Actually, it was only one lorry made to look like it was 20 or 30 lorries. No one noticed that the lorry had the same registration number or even bothered to check the serial numbers of the engines on the lorry.

Our explanation to the Minister was that the engines were too heavy to lift and we would need a crane to lift them (which was true). So better he just handed the propellers to the fishermen -- which in itself were quite heavy already. In fact, the Minister could not lift the propellers all by himself. He needed two other people to assist him.

It was a win-win situation. The Minister got to hand over RM6 million worth of engines to the fishermen. The fishermen could get delivery of the engines only when they needed them and not too early. I got my RM6 million order although I did not yet have RM6 million worth of engines in stock. And Barisan Nasional won 34 of the 36 seats in the Kelantan State Assembly leaving PAS with only two seats -- the first time since Merdeka that Umno ruled Kelantan (at least for 12 years until 1990 when they lost the state again to PAS).

And that was the day my friends called me 'The Six Million Dollar Man', a popular TV series at that time. I suppose, in business, you need to show confidence and pretend that you know what you are doing and can handle any assignment they give you even when you do not have the winning cards in your hand. After all, is that not how poker is played?

And now do you know why I do not want too clever people to become Ministers? I could never pull something like that off if smart people ran the government.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 1)

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 2) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 3) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 4) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 5) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 6) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 7) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 8) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 9) 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 10) 

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 10)

Posted: 02 Dec 2012 04:07 PM PST

So, no, I did not make my first million getting contracts from the government, as many people may have thought. I did it by changing the way we did business in the fishing industry. In time, the 'old boys' no longer regarded me as a wet-behind-the-ears new kid on the block. And imagine my pride when the 'old boys' who had been in business before I was born offered me Chinese tea and called me 'boss'.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

I was the new kid on the block. I was only 24 years old. And I was trying to break into the market that is older than I have been alive. And it is a very Chinese dominated market, too, on top of that.

After Michael Toh agreed to create Account A and Account B, I had to now take over the business from my partner who had been running it before me. It is not that I wanted to. It is that Michael had agreed to suspend all my debts and will allow me to stay in business only if I took over the business and ran it myself.

I confronted my partner. I knew I would never get my money back but at least I could oust him from the company. And he agreed to sign all the papers and I took control of the company. Once I took control of the business I now had to make it viable.

I drove up and down Terengganu and Kelantan and visited every single fishing village, even the most remote village along the Malaysian-Thai border. In the beginning it was just that -- 'study tours' of sorts. I needed to not only learn the trade, which I knew nothing about, but I also needed to get to know my potential customers.

Most of them were very nice and humble people. Many were simple fishermen. Some were fishing taukays who had started life as fishermen and now owned a fleet of fishing boats that were operated by other fishermen on a profit-sharing basis.

It was almost like the serf system that the peasants of Europe were subjected to 200 years ago except that they were free to terminate the arrangement any time they wished to and would not be put to death if they 'ran away'. The majority were Malay taukays but there were many Chinese as well although Terengganu and Kelantan were predominantly Malay states.

Breaking into the market was not that easy. These fishermen or fishing taukays had a decades-old relationship with the 'old boys' who had been around even before I was born. Some of the players had been dealing with each other since the first generation so we were now talking about the second generation that had inherited all this 'goodwill'.

I discovered that 'old ties' meant a lot in business. People were not prepared to sever old ties and transfer their business to a still-wet-behind-the-ears new kid of the block. I had to earn their respect and confidence. I had to have something new and something better to offer before people would end 20- or 30-year old relationships and deal with you instead.

I was beginning to wonder whether my effort was futile. An added problem was I could not beat their prices. I was puzzled as to how the other dealers could sell at cost. And if I wanted to beat their prices I would have to sell below cost. This would have been disastrous.

Then I discovered that the others could sell at cost because they were getting 90 days credit and they just wanted the quick cash. They collected cash in advance before they ordered the engines. That gave them an additional 30 days. Then they would 'drag' their payment and get an additional 30-60 days. Then they would pay by post-dated cheques.

All in all they got to use the cash for roughly six months or so. They then lent this cash on a '10-4' basis. Basically, it was a loan-shark operation and it worked like this.

Petty traders who needed quick cash -- and they could not get it from the bank for obvious reasons -- would borrow, say RM2,000, from these money lenders. The borrowers would be charged 4% interest a month or 48% interest a year. (That is why they called it '10-4').

They would then receive the RM2,000 minus the interest. Hence they would not receive RM2,000 but just slightly over half the amount. But the 48% interest a year is charged on RM2,000, not on the RM1,000 or so that they receive.

It was a real cutthroat business (hence it is called 'loan shark' business). And that was why they did not care whether they made any money on the sale of the engines. They were not interested in making money on the sale of the engines. They were using the engine business to raise cash and it was by lending out this cash that they made money.

And we must remember that the cash was 'free', at least for six months.

I needed an incentive to get the fishermen and fishing taukays to give me their business. My competitors were selling for cash. I needed to sell on credit. But I was 'broke' so how could I do that?

One day I saw an advertisement in the newspapers. It was an advertisement by M&F, a finance company wholly-owned by the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation (now called HSBC). I wrote them a letter applying for finance facilities.

The Kwailo running M&F phoned the Kuala Terengganu branch manager of the HSBC to ask him whether he knew whom I was. "I think he may be an old school friend of mine from MCKK," replied the branch manager.

The HSBC manager then phoned me to confirm that I was from MCKK. I replied that I was and he was delighted. "But how come you are not banking with us?" he asked. "I want you to open a bank account with us today."

I went over to the bank and opened an account. In those days you needed RM1,000 to open a company bank account so, invariably, I had to pawn some of Marina's jewellery to raise that RM1,000. I have to admit that walking into a pawnshop was a most embarrassing experience.

A few days later, the Kwailo made a trip to Kuala Terengganu to meet me. He was not only very pleased that the HSBC manager was an old school friend of mine but when he found out that my mother was from his same 'kampong' in London he was so delighted. (Soon after that he visited my mother for Hari Raya and invited her to the Paddock in the Kuala Lumpur Hilton for dinner, with Marina and I as well, of course).

The Kwailo told me he will start us off with RM200,000. Once that is fully used up he would increase it. Eventually I was rolling with RM2 million of the bank's money, a king's ransom 40 years ago.

There was another issue to resolve first, though. The fishing boats that we were going to finance needed to have insurance. But no one in Malaysia does fishing boat insurance. I searched high and low but could not find a company that would issue insurance for fishing boats. It was too high risk.

Unless I could find a company that was prepared to issue insurance for fishing boats my deal with M&F would never get off the ground.

I approached a friend of mine who was one of the leading insurance brokers in Terengganu. He had never heard of any company doing fishing boat insurance but he promised me if there was then he would be able to find one. However, it would all depend on the amount of business I expected.

I promised him RM1 million a year in business (insured value) and fully secured. (Actually, I tembak only because I did not know, but I had to 'play poker' to entice them with the belief that the 'stakes' were going to be very high.)

I then laid out my plan. I would take land from the fishermen as security (almost all the fishermen had land) and with this land as security I would underwrite any potential loss that the insurance company would suffer in the event of a claim. (In all that time we suffered only one claim, less that 1% of the total premium we collected over those many years).

So now I was not only in the engine financing business. I was also in the fishing boat financing business as well as the fishing boat insurance business. I not only gave out 100% financing on the engines. I also financed 50% of the cost of the construction of the boats. Sometimes I even financed the fishing nets, which at times could be more expensive than the fishing boats.

But all this must be backed with insurance plus land, which I valued myself and took at the lower value. Hence if they defaulted I would be able to sell off the land at twice what they owed me. In all that time I never once had to sell off any land to recover what they owed me.

Overnight, our modest business became a multi-million business. I soon had millions floating in the market -- all the bank's money, of course. Each deal gave me a profit of 30-40%, although collectable over 3 years. And from that day on the fishermen in Terengganu and Kelantan knew me as 'Taukay Yanmar'.

Fishermen and fishing taukays lined up to see me, not to buy engines from me but to obtain loans to finance the construction of their fishing boats. However, to qualify for the loan, they would first need to buy their engines from us. And they no longer cared about the price of the engine. I was pricing my engines 25-30% higher than my competitors. But my competitors collected cash in advance. I allowed my buyers to pay me monthly over three years.

The only thing is, I did not charge loan shark rates, though, because we were bound by Bank Negara's rules, which was 10% per year fixed-rate interest, which more or less came to 18% per year based on reducing rate.

Eventually, some of the fishermen offered me shares in their fishing boat. They felt honoured to have the Taukay Yanmar as their partner. At the 'height' of my fishing business I had a stake in no less than five fishing boats. And we ate fresh fish every day because the fish were delivered to our house straight from the fishing boat.

And the irony of this whole thing is I did not like fish. I only ate chicken and beef. Nevertheless, one can't say that my business dealings were not 'fishy'. Whatever it may be, though, that resulted in me making my first million within just three years.

So, no, I did not make my first million getting contracts from the government, as many people may have thought. I did it by changing the way we did business in the fishing industry. In time, the 'old boys' no longer regarded me as a wet-behind-the-ears new kid on the block. And imagine my pride when the 'old boys' who had been in business before I was born offered me Chinese tea and called me 'boss'.

That was worth more than the money I was making. I suppose when money is no longer the criteria you aspire for recognition.

And I never realised the goodwill I had made until I returned to Kuala Terengganu in 2008 to campaign in the Kuala Terengganu by-election. Those who I had known back in the 1970s and 1980s still called me 'boss', even 20 or 30 years later, and they voted for Pakatan Rakyat (PAS) just because 'the boss said we must vote for PAS'.

And when the by-election result was announced I cried like a baby because it was not just about winning the by-election but about the people who voted for PAS did so because I wanted them to. (I think Eechia took a photo of me sitting there and crying).

Ah well, I am a sentimental old fool, am I not?

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 9)

Posted: 01 Dec 2012 07:17 PM PST

My father now had no choice but to buy me that motorcycle he had promised me. And I became the 'King of the Road'. My father received countless complaints from the police and I crashed 12 times during the first two years. My father was so pissed he told me if I want to race then go race in the Malaysian Grand Prix. And in 1968 I did, with my father as my 'pit crew' and timekeeper.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

I had my first girlfriend when I was nine. Well, it was not actually a girlfriend in the hold-hands sort of way. It was more like I would hand her a love letter in class and she would hand it to the teacher.

If you were to ask me when I would consider as my most embarrassing moment in life, I would probably have to reply that that would be when my teacher showed my love letter to another teacher and they both looked at me and giggled.

I was in the Alice Smith School at that time (then behind the Agong's palace and near NAAFI) and the girl of my dream was Sarah Chin. Alice Smith was a Kwailo school and there were only three Asians in that school, two Chinese and one Chap Chong Kui, me.

Invariably, my parents were informed about my 'indiscretion'. I still remember the beam on my father's face as he told my mother, "That's my son," and she responded with, "A chip of the old block, for sure."

It was then that I received my first lesson in philosophy: right and wrong are subjective and mere perceptions.

Actually, my father was more buddy than dad to me. For example, when I raced in my first Grand Prix in 1968 (the Malaysian Grand Prix), my father was my timekeeper. As I did my practice laps, he would record each lap with a stopwatch.

In another incident, my class teacher in VI (Victoria Institution), Miss Siew, who also taught us English, complained to my father that every day I sleep in class. There was not a single day she did not catch me sleeping.

My father came home to tell me about the meeting he had with Miss Siew and about her complaint regarding me perpetually sleeping in class all day long. "Miss Siew is so pretty," said my father, "I just can't understand how you can sleep when she teaches."

I never did understand the relationship between the first part of that statement and the second part.

When I took Marina (now my wife) out on our first date, my father chauffeured the car to take us to the dance (since I was only 17 and did not yet have a driving licence -- although I already had a motorcycle licence). He insisted that I sit behind with Marina, who was then 14, like how it should be when you are chauffeur-driven to a dance and are on your first date.

He then fetched us after the dance and when we reached Marina's house in Brickfields he stopped the car on the corner and did not drive right up to the house.

Marina got out of the car and after the usual exchange of pleasantries she was about to close the car door and walk off when my father said to me, "You are not going to allow her to walk all alone are you? Go walk her to the door."

I was too dumb to realise that my father was giving us some privacy so that I could attempt a good night kiss or something like that. It did puzzle me at first as to why he stopped the car so far from the house.

Anyway, I was not really too interested in girls after that very embarrassing disaster involving the love letter. My real passion was motorcycles.

I rode my first motorcycle when I was ten, a Honda Cub 50cc. This was when I visited my grandfather during the school holidays, who was then the Governor of Penang. I blasted down the Residency grounds and my grandfather was furious. He called motorcyclists 'temporary citizens', probably meaning they die too early.

I kept bugging my father to buy me a motorcycle and after constant nagging he said he would get me one only if I were to pass my LCE (form three) exams. I don't think he expected me to pass my LCE exams because the headmaster, Murugesu, had written in my report card 'the least likely to succeed'. Furthermore, other than perpetually sleeping in class, I failed all my monthly tests and trial exams

When the results came out and were displayed on the notice board, my father scanned through the list of 'fails' but could not find my name. He then looked at the 'C' list and still could not find my name. The 'B' list also did not reveal my name.

"Did you sit for the exam or not?" my father asked me. I then asked him to look at the 'A' list and he gave a grunt that sounded like 'hmph' or something like that. However, lo and behold, my name was on the 'A' list.

"How the hell did you do that?" my father asked, "Did you cheat?" He could not understand how, from primary school right up to form three, my school reports were so bad and yet I passed both my 11-plus (standard six) and LCE exams and got 'A' on both occasions.

It was then that my father probably realised that I was not one for academic excellence but put me through the test and I will sail through with very little effort.

My father now had no choice but to buy me that motorcycle he had promised me. And I became the 'King of the Road'. My father received countless complaints from the police and I crashed 12 times during the first two years. My father was so pissed he told me if I want to race then go race in the Malaysian Grand Prix. And in 1968 I did, with my father as my 'pit crew' and timekeeper.

In 1968 I was already 'going steady' with Marina and she refused to support me or go see me race. In fact, she was very angry with my father for encouraging me. When I crashed and broke my left wrist my father drove to Marina's house to inform her that I was in the University Hospital.

Marina refused to go see me in hospital and my father had to beg her, "Please lah. He is in great pain. Go visit him in hospital." Marina finally agreed but only so that she could gloat and tell me, "I told you so." Until today, "I told you so" is my favourite phrase, in case many of you have not realised this by now.

Marina was fiercely anti-motorcycle. It took a year before she would agree to climb onto the back of my motorcycle. She realised that to love me means you have to also love my motorcycle. Our wedding vows were probably the only one that went "To love, honour and obey Raja Petra Kamarudin and his motorcycle and till death do you part."

I suppose Marina's main concern was that the 'till death do you part' part of that vow may come earlier than planned if you only know two speeds -- full speed and full stop.

Actually, Marina and I met quite accidentally, almost literally, when I almost knocked her down with my motorcycle. I was tearing down the road at full speed and she was running across the road to catch her school bus. I hit the brakes and skidded while missing her by inches. She let fly with a few choice four-letter words (and I don't mean U-M-N-O) and I shouted, "Stupid girl! Nak mati ke?"

I suppose most people will relate their story of love at first sight while ours was love at first fight.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 8)

Posted: 30 Nov 2012 07:02 PM PST

I really did not care too much whether Anwar was going to spend the rest of his days in jail. I felt he deserved jail anyway, if not for sodomy at least for helping Dr Mahathir screw up the country and for making his friends and family rich. But Anwar had started something here, which could be useful to the cause of unseating Dr Mahathir and kicking Umno out. So why not ride on that Reformasi wave and take advantage of it?

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

By mid-1990 I had already wound down most of my businesses or sold off those that could be sold. Fortunately, that was just two years or so before the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis. The bankers I met told me I must be a genius to be able to anticipate this crisis two years before it happened and to get out of the market in time.

The truth is I just no longer had any interest in business. Business sickened me. I felt nauseous when I looked at my business.

Nevertheless, I did not correct this misperception by the bankers. I allowed them to continue to think that I am a genius who anticipated the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis two years before it happened when even the world's best economists could not see that -- or even Malaysia's greatest leaders such as Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad and Anwar Ibrahim.

A friend of mine told me that my enemies had got a bomoh (witch doctor) to charm me with black magic ('kena buat', as the Malays would say) so that my heart 'turned' and I felt 'sick' with business. And that is why I just write and write and neglect my business, my friend said.

That was quite true. I did feel sick with business and I was writing and writing, day in and day out. But I am not too sure whether this was because a bomoh had 'buat' me. Anyway, I have seen stranger things in my 62 years, some which defy explanation. I would like to believe, though, that there were no magic spells involved in my 'change of heart'.

Just to digress a bit, another friend told me that every time I came near him he felt that something was 'wrong' (ada tak kena). He said he suspected I 'kena buat orang'. He insisted he take me to meet a 'gifted' person who is known to have the ability to exorcise 'demons' from 'orang kena buat'.

I have always been a curious person who would not hesitate to try anything new, at least once. So I agreed to the exorcism. The 'exorcist' just touched my big toe lightly and I began sweating profusely and wailed like a banshee. My friend could not stand the sound of my screaming so he left the room. He later told me that the scream did not sound like me one bit. It was a most unusual scream that did not sound human at all, he told.

I am not one to believe in the supernatural. But there you are. Believe it or not, that happened, and I still do not know what to make of it. The church, however, believes in such things, as do the majority of Muslims. As far as I am concerned, though, I had found my new 'calling' -- a political activist cum political writer -- and I found this life more interesting than the life of a businessman, something I had been for 20 years.

I think, at 45, I just needed a change, that's all. Call it mid-life crisis if you wish. Or maybe it was because I was almost the same age as when both my parents died so I wanted to do something different before I died. Or call it possession by demons, if you also wish. Your choice!

Anyway, back to the issue of my businesses. For companies like Maroda Sdn Bhd, the Mercedes Benz dealership, I sold my interest to my partner. That was actually a very profitable company and what I regarded as my 'flagship', as I mentioned in the earlier episodes of this series of articles.

I did not make any profit on those shares I sold to my partner. In fact, I made a loss because I transferred my shares at RM1 per share even though I had held on to those shares for more than ten years and a Mercedes Benz dealership is worth at least a million or two in 'goodwill'. Nevertheless, I took a 'haircut' because my partner could not possibly have forked out RM1 million or RM2 million if I had asked him to pay me that.

I practically 'gave' that company to my partner, a result of my disgust regarding the state of affairs. Hmmm…or maybe it was my partner who had got the bomoh to buat me. Smile (Joke only lah).

Another factor that prompted me to sell off my shares in Maroda is the fact that my partner was an Umno man and he was facing a lot of problems from Umno for partnering with an opposition supporter, meaning me. In fact, Umno was lobbying Cycle and Carriage to terminate Maroda's dealership and to give the dealership to an Umno company. Hence, if I had stayed his partner, Maroda would have probably lost the agency anyway.

In fact, Umno had been trying to block Maroda from getting the Mercedes agency since 1980. Shahrir Samad, the then Deputy Minister of Trade and Industry, can confirm this because he told my partner so. To be fair to Shahrir, though, he did not do what Umno asked him to do -- to deny Maroda the agency. So not all Umno people are scumbags -- at least not Shahrir Samad, whose brother, Khalid Samad, is the current PAS MP for Shah Alam.

By mid-1998 I was totally retired except for a bihun (fine noodles) factory that I still owned. But I was not involved in the running of that factory. I had a manager to take care of it.

The bihun manufacturing business was not too bad, although you can't become a millionaire in that business -- because it was very competitive and monopolised by the Chinese. Around 50% of our market was our own branding while the other 50% was contract manufacturing -- which means we manufacture for others.

You can't really make money in contract manufacturing because the selling price is too low. But it allowed you to cover your fixed costs such as salaries, etc. Hence you can make a decent profit from your own brand -- which you can sell at a higher price -- and since the fixed costs are already taken care of you only need to worry about the variable or material costs.

1998 was also the time that Anwar Ibrahim was sacked from Umno and the government -- 2nd December 1998 to be exact. And that was a day of celebration for me.

You see, over the three years before that, I had been whacking Anwar Ibrahim kau-kau. I condemned him and even exposed his wrongdoings and revealed details of how all his cronies and family members were getting rich. My 'flagship' article was called 'The Rise and Fall of Anwar Ibrahim', which was published in Harakah, the party organ of PAS.

Anwar's people were, understandably, furious.

In that article I had predicted Anwar's downfall. I also revealed why he was going to fall. I revealed that Anwar was plotting behind Dr Mahathir's back and that the old man took two months leave and appointed Anwar the Acting Prime Minister as a trap for Anwar to walk in to. I then predicted that Dr Mahathir would make his move on Anwar and would finish him off, once and for all, once he returns from his two months leave.

Hence, when it happened exactly as how I predicted it was going to happen, I felt that that was a cause for celebration. I was right and now I could tell everyone, "I told you so!" And when Anwar launched his Reformasi Movement on 2nd September 1998, culminating in the massive rally at Dataran Merdeka on 20th September 1998, I did not 'go to the ground'. I stayed home and watched Anwar get demolished by Dr Mahathir.

It was when I saw Anwar's black eye and we were told that he was handcuffed, blindfolded and beaten up by no less than the IGP himself that I became outraged. I was also quite surprised by the massive turnout at Dataran Merdeka on 20th September. It was then that I realised that Anwar had created a wave of dissent and that there was a strong likelihood the Reformasi Movement could be a platform for our opposition to Umno.

I really did not care too much whether Anwar was going to spend the rest of his days in jail. I felt he deserved jail anyway, if not for sodomy at least for helping Dr Mahathir screw up the country and for making his friends and family rich. But Anwar had started something here, which could be useful to the cause of unseating Dr Mahathir and kicking Umno out. So why not ride on that Reformasi wave and take advantage of it?

Okay, maybe my reasons for rallying to Anwar's side were less than noble. It was not so much to see justice for Anwar (who did not understand the meaning of the word anyway) but to 'use' Anwar, the new icon of dissent, to further our own cause, which I had personally been involved in since the 1970s. Anwar was using us anyway to fight the system that he was once part of and which he exploited for his own interests. Hence, since he was using us, it was not unfair if we too used him. It was a win-win situation, as they would say today.

So I decided to come out and become active in the Reformasi Movement. But then that triggered other problems for me. My bihun customers began cancelling their contracts. They were under pressure to kill our business.

I met up with the GM of our biggest customer, Anwar Ibrahim's schoolmate in the Malay College Kuala Kangsar (MCKK), and he advised me to remove my name from the company. As long as my name was still in the company they can't give me any more business.

I discussed this matter with another of Anwar's classmates, Lt Kol Yunos Othman, and he agreed to become one of my nominees. I would transfer 500,000 of my shares to him and another 500,000 to another person. He would also take over the running of the business and I was not to show my face at the factory to prove that I had 'sold' the business.

He then told me he needed RM500,000 working capital to finance the business and he brought me to meet someone high up in the bank, another classmate of Anwar. The banker agreed to give the company RM500,000 but they would need security. His bank would give loans based on 50% of the security value if it is vacant land. So the land must be at least RM1 million in value.

I agreed to lend the company my land and the company got the loan. The bihun contracts were reinstated and with a price increase on top of that. And every month I would receive a 'salary' of RM5,000 as agreed.

After a few months the RM5,000 stopped coming. I then found out that the 500,000 shares of the second nominee had been transferred to Lt Kol Yunos. I spoke to my second nominee and she denied that she had transferred the shares. I then went to meet the Company Secretary, Ong Keng Tong, and he said that my nominee had signed the transfer forms in front of him -- which she, again, denied.

Later, I received a letter from the land office informing me that the bank was auctioning off my land. I found out from the bank that not a single Sen of the loan had been paid.

By then I had other problems on my hand -- my detention under ISA -- so I decided to call it a day and just move on. I never spoke to Lt Kol Yunos again and till today I do not know what happened to my factory. I just did not care any more. To me that was my 'previous life' and I no longer wanted to be concerned about my previous life.

Or maybe it was the charm that the bomoh put on me that made me not care. Smile

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 7)

Posted: 29 Nov 2012 06:57 PM PST

Ibak had been watching this mafia for quite some time and had decided that enough is enough. He opened up the meter business to the non-cartel members and we managed to squeeze in. Within three years we walked away with RM40 million in business. But I was the most hated supplier because I ignored the mafia and refused to join the cartel in the price rigging.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

When I reflect on my corporate life, I can probably summarise it as 20 years of the 62 years that I have been walking the face of this earth. I became a businessman at age 24 and 'retired' at age 44. Considering that my father and mother died at ages 46 and 47 respectively, I regarded myself as almost reaching the end of my life.

Hence, maybe, a change of career was in order.

However, I have to admit that my retirement was not actually my choice but the point of frustration that I had reached. When I first started my business in 1974, you could make it with sheer hard work, ingenuity, and plenty of guts to venture into areas where angels fear to tread. However, by 1994, it was no longer about know-how but about know-who.

If you were not aligned to those who walk in the corridors of power then the doors would be closed to you. And mere 'alignment' was not enough. There were also the contributions you had to make to various political funds, all to be made in cash and not with traceable cheques.

I, too, was not exempted from having to 'buy' contracts. In the beginning it was not too bad. A RM500,000 donation to Umno for a RM30 million contract where you earn at least 8% or RM2.4 million was affordable. You still had some money left in your pocket. But when margins dropped to less than 5% and the commissions (or kickbacks) increased to 10%, it was pointless to continue with that type of business.

My wife, Marina, was actually the one who 'pulled the plug', so to speak. As I wrote in the earlier parts of this series, we became 'Born Again' Muslims in the late 1970s and by the early 1980s I was practically a radical Muslim who believed in the Iranian Islamic Revolution and dreamed of such a revolution in Malaysia.

I also became closer to PAS, although still very much a 'closet' supporter because of my business activities. I so very much wanted to come out into the open but I would first have to get out of business to do that. Hence it would have been just a matter of time before I made this switch.

One day, Marina asked me how we could consider ourselves as true Muslims and at the same time indulge in haram activities. When she said haram activities she meant indulging in bribes and giving money to Umno, the enemy of Islam.

What she said made sense but I needed a 'trigger' to spur me into doing the right thing. And that 'right thing' offered itself in the early 1990s. And that story goes as follows.

By 1990, I felt that a change of course was required. For the past 16 years we had been acting as a mere dealer, distributor or agent. No doubt not all our businesses were government business -- maybe about 20% or so -- but we were just selling 'other people's products' and, therefore, were at their mercy.

We needed a product of our own.

I spoke to a friend in TNB and, interestingly enough, he told me that a certain 'mafia' monopolised the electricity meter business and they had formed a cartel and was rigging the price. TNB, therefore, was at their mercy.

I then spoke to someone in GE Singapore who gave me a list of all the electricity meter manufacturers in the world. I found that one manufacturer, Schlumberger from France, was not marketing their meters in Malaysia. (There were many others, of course, but Schlumberger was the best amongst them).

I flew to Paris and met up with a man named Arman Carlier. I proposed a partnership with Schlumberger to manufacture their meters in Malaysia and to try to break into the TNB market.

Arman did not think it was viable. Even 'strong' companies like George Kent (M) Bhd (a company linked to Prime Minister Najib Tun Razak) failed to break into the TNB market. And their meters are actually very good -- Landis and Gyr. So what makes me think we can succeed where others have failed?

I told Arman that our meters must be fully manufactured in ASEAN, with maybe 30% of the components locally manufactured in Malaysia -- and the local content to be increased as we go along. We must then 'dive' at least 20% below the prices of the cartel (they all tender at almost the same price with a couple of Sen price difference).

I was confident we could demolish the cartel and beat the 'mafia' that was merely importing their meters and doing a 'bolt-and-nut' operation. But Arman was still not sure. He knows the TBN market, as Schlumberger had done other business with them, so he knows the mafia has a strong hold on the meter business.

I told Arman that if Schlumberger agrees to set up a factory in Malaysia and they fail to get any business, I was prepared to underwrite the entire operation and reimburse them for all their expenses.

Arman finally agreed and said that he will give the Malaysian operation one year to get the business and that if we fail he will then close the factory down. We sealed the deal and then went to 'Le Crazy Horse' (SEE HERE) to celebrate our new partnership.

The factory was set up but after one year we got nothing. So much time and money spent with nothing to show for it. Arman told me it was time to close shop unless I could assure him we would be able to get at least some business.

I asked him for an extension of three months and he agreed. But that was it. Another three months and then they were going to close shop.

The mafia was determined to keep us out. In the meantime, the cartel was laughing all the way to the bank. I was bracing myself for bad news at the end of that three-month extension.

As I said earlier, a drowning man can come up only three times before he goes down for good. I had gone down twice so far, once in 1975 and again in 1985-1987. It looks like this time I was going to go down for good.

Then, suddenly, the unexpected happened. The General Manager, who was not supposed to retire yet, retired. He got a 'golden handshake' involving a large coal supply contract to prompt him to retire. His deputy, Datuk Ibak Abu Hussein, took over as the new number one.

Ibak had been watching this mafia for quite some time and had decided that enough is enough. He opened up the meter business to the non-cartel members and we managed to squeeze in. Within three years we walked away with RM40 million in business. But I was the most hated supplier because I ignored the mafia and refused to join the cartel in the price rigging.

What a stroke of luck! Schlumberger was just days away from closing down the operation. And that would have meant I would have lost my pants, for the third time. But fate decided it was not yet time for me to die.

Unfortunately, Ibak did not last long as the head honcho of TNB (the mafia hated him as well). He was 'pushed' into retirement and Ani Arope, a Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad-Anwar Ibrahim man, took over (the first time in history an 'outsider' was appointed as the head of TNB).

And that allowed the mafia to bounce back and go for me with a vengeance.

We soon began to lose tender after tender even though our price was the cheapest by far. By the third tender we lost, the TNB mafia approached Schlumberger and told them that as long as Raja Petra Kamarudin is their partner they are never going to get any business from TNB. We also lost the fourth tender and this convinced Schlumberger that the mafia was serious about it.

The second unfortunate thing was that Arman Carlier had been transferred to another division and was no longer heading the meter business in France. The new chap had no 'history' with me so there was no sentimental attachment. Hence he made the decision to 'file for a divorce'.

Schlumberger took on a new Malaysian partner who was 'highly recommended' by the TNB mafia. I found out later that his new partner was linked to Anwar Ibrahim. So it was an 'inside job' after all.

I was so furious I decided to get out of this whole 'rat race' once and for all. This was getting very stressful. Fighting your competitors is one thing. But when your 'own people' stab you in the back and grab what you painfully built up with a lot of risks involved, there was just no point in continuing.

I never forgave Anwar's people for taking away my last shot at making it in the business world. Anwar was the Finance Minister and TNB reported to him. But I never once walked into his office to ask for any help all that time he was Finance Minister (Anwar actually complained about this to one ABIM chap). But for his people to take away what I felt belonged to me was something so intolerable that I decided to throw in the towel and go for a career change.

And this new career change was to become a political activist and political writer. I was part of the corrupt system. I worked within that system that eventually 'ate' me up as well. Now I was going to fight that very system I had operated in.

That was 18 years ago in 1994. Today, I am still doing what I started 18 years ago back in 1994. I now have very low tolerance for abuse of power and corruption, even when committed by those from Pakatan Rakyat. And trust me, it does happen in Pakatan Rakyat as well. After all, many of those Pakatan Rakyat people are the same people who 'makan' me back in the 1990s.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 6)

Posted: 29 Nov 2012 03:49 PM PST

Actually, I blame the banks for all this. Back in the 1980s, around ten years after starting my business, bank managers were coming to see me to invite me to lunch. They would practically beg me to 'give them some business'. Over lunch they would confirm RM2 million or RM3 million without even asking me what I would do with the money.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

People assume that since I am Malay therefore all my business must have come from government contracts. That is stereotyping and as 'fair' as assuming that since you are Indian you are a drunkard who beats his wife or since you are a Chinese you are dishonest because you worship money.

I do not deny that I did do some government business. Even Chinese and Indians do government business whenever they can. So this is not really a crime. Nevertheless, over 20 years from 1974-1994, my companies did about RM300-350 million in turnover with maybe about 20% of that in government contracts.

And government contracts are really not that profitable, mind you. Sometimes we get away with a profit of only 2.5%. To make 10% or more from a government (supply) job was a rare thing indeed, especially in those 'early days'.

Government jobs are good when you need to go to the bank to raise funds. If you won, say, a RM30 million government contract, this would allow you to borrow RM6 million or even RM10 million.

In those days, even when I did not need the money (since the supplier gave us credit of 60-90 days anyway), I would still go to the bank to borrow. I would use the funds and then pay back what I used within the same month. This would impress the bank like hell -- although they are not too happy with this since they would earn very little when you pay back almost immediately.

The reason I did this was so that, next time, when you really do need funding, you can go back to the bank and get a loan. In the beginning I borrowed RM2 million. By the time I decided to call it a day, I was rolling with RM20 million, all borrowed funds.

Actually, I blame the banks for all this. Back in the 1980s, around ten years after starting my business, bank managers were coming to see me to invite me to lunch. They would practically beg me to 'give them some business'. Over lunch they would confirm RM2 million or RM3 million without even asking me what I would do with the money.

You see, branch managers had a quota to fill and they were trying to use me to fill their quota. So they would offer me facilities in the millions even though I did not need the money and would not have known what to do with it anyway.

Once I was even invited for lunch in the executive suite of HSBC in Kuala Lumpur. The Kwailo then asked whether his bank 'could be off assistance' to me. He then offered me RM3 million and instructed his Chinese officer to follow up on this 'application'.

The Chinese officer followed me back to my office and sat down with me to work out the details. But we had one problem. We could not justify the facilities. In other words, we could not show that I needed the money. After cracking our heads for an hour, I told the officer to just forget it. Actually I don't need the money.

I felt good to be able to tell HSBC that I don't need their money. That boosted my image and even more bank managers came a courting when they found out that I told the Kwailo from a Kwalio bank that I don't need their money.

Yes, bank managers get an orgasm when you tell a bank you don't need their money.

It came to a stage that all I needed to do was to phone the MD or GM of the bank and over the phone I could raise a million or two with no questions asked. Of course, I was not the only one enjoying this VIP treatment. All over town banks were throwing money our way.

Then, in mid-1980, the folly of this attitude hit us. Many of us were over-geared. No doubt our loans were 'backed by assets'. But these so-called assets were 'paper assets'. They were stocks and shares trading at ten or twenty times their value -- or worse.

No one cared about PE ratios. In the UK, you may be looking at PE ratios in the single digit. In Malaysia (plus Singapore and Hong Kong) the PE ratios of the 'darlings' of the stock market were sometimes in the triple digits.

That was crazy. Banks should not have touched such company shares with a ten-foot pole. But who thought that the bubble was going to burst? We were on a roller coaster ride and it was going up, up and up. Then, in 1985, it went down, down and down.

It was then that I understood the meaning of 'fair weather bankers'. They invite you to lunch and beg you to borrow from them when you do not need their money. However, when the market turns, they become your 'wakeup call' early in the morning when they phone you to inform you of the 'margin call'.

If you do not 'top up' by the time the market opens for the day, expect them to 'force-sell' your shares. And the more they force-sell the more depressed the market gets and the more depressed the market gets the lower your shares go and the lower your shares go the more margin you need to top up -- and so on and so forth. It basically becomes a vicious cycle.

Now that you need the money the banks no longer want to deal with you. The banks do not want to give you money because you need the money. They only want to give you money when you do not need it.

I was only 35 then and about ten years in business. But I was very rapidly finding out that another word for 'banker' is 'shark'. When they smell blood they go into a feeding frenzy. And when you are floundering in the water trying to keep your head up so that you do not drown, these sharks come up from behind you and bite off your balls.

Yes, we were greedy. I admit that. We may even have been inexperienced and were taking too many risks. But when you are still quite young and new to business, you tend to be like this. That is what being young is all about.

But the banks were also greedy. These banks that have been around for a long time and have seen many recessions come and go should have practiced prudent banking. They should have known that bubbles eventually burst. And they should not have been the ones to inflate the bubble and then, as soon as it shows sign of deflation, they prick the bubble by pulling the rug from under our feet.

Many suffered. Almost everyone, regardless of race, collapsed. Many saw their companies change hands. Some were even unfortunate enough to end up in jail. As I said, at 35 I could afford to pick up the pieces and start all over again. Those who no longer had the luxury of time chose the easy way out by ending their life.

We would have imagined that by 1985-1987 the banks would have learned their lesson. Apparently they did not -- as 1997 and now, 2012, have proven. Banks will still be banks and risk-takers will still be risk-takers.

I am just glad I am no longer in the game where we live day-to-day with the anxiety that when we wake up the following morning we are going to find out that the bottom has fallen out of the market.

As they say: let the borrower beware.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The journey in life is never a straight line (PART 5)

Posted: 28 Nov 2012 09:56 PM PST

I had never tendered for fishing nets before so I was not too clear of the costing. I sought the advise of a friend who gave me the previous year's prices and asked me to drop my bid 7% below that price so that we can be the cheapest bidder. That was the most screwed up advice I ever received, as I would soon learn.

NO HOLDS BARRED

Raja Petra Kamarudin

Most Malays are Ali Baba businessmen, said Chia Kim Peong a.k.a. Ah Piow. The Chinese use the Malays to get business. You, however, are a Baba Ali businessman. It is the other way around. You use the Chinese to do business. And you do all the work while I just sit back and collect my dividends. Ah Piow probably found that very amusing.

That quip was triggered by an episode involving the fishing net business that I started. I tried to get supplies from the Fusan fishing net manufacturer in Port Kelang but they told me that Nam Lee was their sole distributor.

I tried to meet up with Nam Lee but they refused to see me. They told me they were not interested in my business because they already had more than enough business to handle.

I spoke to Ah Piow who told me that he knows the Nam Lee people very well. He asked me to meet him at their office and he brought me in to meet the Managing Director although we had no prior appointment. I tried many times to meet them but failed and Ah Piow can just walk in unannounced. Clearly contacts are the key to business success.

Nam Lee agreed to supply me the fishing nets on condition that Ah Piow guaranteed my company's debts. Ah Piow told me not to make him 'lose face'. 'Face' is everything to the Chinese so I have to make good my debts to Nam Lee.

Once I had learned the ins and outs of the fishing net business I participated in my first public tender. The tender was for RM12 million and seven companies participated. Amongst the seven were Pernas and Nam Lee plus companies owned by Bank Pertanian and Shamelin, an Umno-linked company founded by Tan Sri Sanusi Junid, the one-time Agriculture Minister.

I had never tendered for fishing nets before so I was not too clear of the costing. I sought the advise of a friend who gave me the previous year's prices and asked me to drop my bid 7% below that price so that we can be the cheapest bidder. That was the most screwed up advice I ever received, as I would soon learn.

The buyer called the seven of us for a meeting and I was informed that our prices were 30% below everyone else. They said I had clearly made a mistake so they were giving me the opportunity to withdraw, leaving the remaining six in the race. The RM12 million contract would then be divided six ways, around RM2 million per bidder.

I refused to withdraw and insisted that we remain in the race. I noticed the others around the table, who had been in this game a number of years, whisper and snigger. I was furious. There was no way I was going to withdraw and 'lose face'. I was going to stay and fight even if I lost my pants. And if they were right that I had made a mistake then I stand to lose quite a bit of money. But then this is about 'face', not money.

Because our price was 30% lower than all the rest, they had no choice but to give us the entire contract. The rest got nothing. With variation orders and a two-year extension, the RM12 million contract became RM20 million.

As luck would have it, Korea, which had many fishing net factories (unlike Malaysia which had only one) saw an oversupply situation when the market for fishing nets coincidentally took a dive. Fishing nets have a short shelf life so they needed to dispose off these nets as fast as possible. So now many factories in Korea were scrambling and were trying to dump their nets at fire sale prices.

The Koreans came to see me to try and get me to buy from them. They told me that based on normal pricing I was going to lose money big time because I had made a mistake in my pricing. However, they were prepared to supply me and would allow me to make 2.5% over the contract price.

I told the Koreans that their price was not attractive enough and that I could get the nets cheaper elsewhere. They told me that that would be impossible because nowhere in the world could I get nets at that kind of pricing. I told them in that case they should sit back and watch me do it.

They went off after telling me they will remain in Kuala Lumpur in case I change my mind because they were still interested in doing business with me.

I never called them back. In the meantime, the clock was ticking. I was supposed to supply the nets within 60 days and now 30 days had passed. If I can't get my hands on the supply I would default and the contract would be cancelled plus I would lose the performance bond of RM600,000.

Five days later, the Koreans called again and said they agree to my terms. They will give me 30% and supply all my requirements. But they will require a Letter of Credit. I told them, "No Letter of Credit." They were the ones chasing me, not me chasing them. If they want me to buy from them then they will have to give me 60 days credit.

The deal was sealed and I made my first delivery after requesting a 30-day extension for the first delivery and then 60 days delivery thereafter.

Fusan and Nam Lee were taught a lesson of their lives. Pernas, which had about RM500,000 in unsold stocks had to write off their fishing nets because the rats and cockroaches had eaten all the nets in their store (nets are perishable items when left in the store).

My satisfaction was not in making around RM5 million on that three-year contract that eventually totalled RM20 million. It was in teaching the 'big boys' a lesson to not snigger at me during a meeting as if I did not know what I was doing.

Well, actually I did not know what I was doing. It was just luck and a game of poker with the Koreans that prevented me from losing my pants, yet again. Needless to say, I never tried that stunt again.

TO BE CONTINUED

 
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