Dear Dina,

It was in 1982 when I enrolled into a newly completed boarding school in the East Coast; an institution I had been longing to be part of after listening to so many stories and tales from my elder siblings who attended similar establishments years earlier. The very first intake of the school consisted of Form 1 (as I was), Form 4 and Lower 6 students. I entered the school with great excitement; I was going to be the man I aspired to be.

The first couple of weeks, as we settled down in the new environment, there were no curfew, prep classes and sports activities. We were well fed with five meals a day (breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner and supper). Dining hall meals on trays were quite an experience for many of us. Since there were not that many students, we had the luxury of arranging separate tables for each dormitory. Hostel life was fun.

Rules are to be followed

Soon, the strict rules as observed in such establishments were imposed and we duly obliged. Prep class after lunch in our school uniforms; we had to be vacate our dorms during sports activities in the afternoon even though one had no desire to play any; evening prep classes were held and lights off at 11pm after supper.

Most of us enjoyed the jemaah prayers held at every waktu at the surau, led by our respected seniors and on many times, by our warden. To the outside world at that time, and particularly in the region, there was something like a revival of Islamisation among the people. There was a big break up of a fragile coalition in the late 70's and an Islamic party had been aggressively expressing their anger to the governing lot.

Adding to this, in my humble opinion, an emerging religious figure, who was then a leader of the Islamic party for the state indeed played a big role in influencing public views; this persona had been attracting many listeners and followers from his exuberant and eloquent sermons. Muslims on the East Coast state started to get closer to their belief system and a sudden wind of change was clearly seen. The increasing number of females covering their heads was a very obvious valuable indicator of change in society.

The other might be the size of crowd attending religious talks and functions. Unfortunately, there was a clash of ideologies and this weakened the social structure mainly in the two East Coast states where it was predominantly the battleground of the parties involved. People started to accuse others of being impostors, invisible enemies of their sacred religion. This led to so many unfortunate incidents; government-appointed imams were no longer accepted to lead prayers, and marriages administered by them were declared void and null; funerals and cemetery areas were affected, and so many things were self-declared haram , etc. etc. Soon, all these somehow penetrated our school fences and found their ways into our lives.

'Born-again' Muslims

A few seniors became influenced, and a few others became born-again Muslims, if there is such a phrase, overnight. Sport shorts were declared sinful as they exposed forbidden flesh; music was considered intoxicating; female students were asked to cover their heads and talking to them was also forbidden as their voice was said to be part of 'aurat'; jemaah prayers were a must to all, and many more. Little confrontations started to occur when the few holier self-appointed enforcers started to confiscate music cassettes and turned televisions and radios off. Sport shorts wearers were given on-the-spot sermons and asked to cover up. Some 'holy brothers' were kind enough to even lend their spare track bottoms for that purpose.

During every prayer, the holy brothers would do their rounds from one dormitory to another, making sure that we all attended. Short talks or tazkirah were a must after Asar and Maghrib prayers. As a quiet and non-confrontational person, I was (and many others) quickly influenced. I suppose, it made us felt holier.

White 'serban' soon found its way onto my head during prayers; initially lent by a senior, Abang S, who later became our dorm leader and my 'adopted brother'. Abang S was one of the born-agains. He repented; denouncing his previous lifestyle of listening to pop music, wearing shorts, talking to girls, going to the cinema, and many more un-Islamic and impure things.

Every night, before we went to bed, after the lights turned off at 11 pm, he would gather us around and gave a little goodnight sermon. We then, retired to our beds and after reciting a few verses, would reflect on the things we had done wrong on the day and promise to do better on the next day. Once I got praised by Abang S. The girl seated on my left in the class must had put on a rather strong perfume (it was quite a nice smell!), and as we were told many times (through citation of verses), it was forbidden for females to put such things onto them when they left their homes.

Bad boy

Since I had sinned, for smelling the perfume, I recited a few verses and short surah many, many times and the smell was no longer picked up by my nostrils. I felt I had done such a great deed for myself. Abang S smiled and said 'Well done!' to me. Not long after, in the beginning of the second year, table arrangement in classrooms changed. No longer were we, boys and girls seated wherever we wanted. Girls now had to occupy the back part of the classroom as looking at them should be avoided.

Even though the girls were seated on one side, there was a 6-foot partition between us. (Still, some of us had fun throwing banana skins across the partition, only to be them thrown back at us we giggled quietly). Following these, soon we found a 6-foot perimeter corrugated-zinc fence erected around girls' hostel blocks. The main reason might be due to the close proximity of the girls hostel to the public dirt road on the other side of the school fence. Hence, the wall was erected to protect the girls' privacy.

So banyak and panjang lagi ni. Baru nak masuk 2nd year..macam boleh jadi buku ni (A lot more to be told... this could become a book!)

Be good. I'll write more.

DINA ZAMAN welcomes readers' comments, so e-mail her at dina@malaysiakini.com . She lives in KL with her family and books.