Behold the lakins

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There was also some unconfirmed story about a Kayan fleet had set sail to Brunei with intention to defeat the Sultan. If the Englishmen had fought the Kayans with swords not guns and cannons, or had confronted the Kayans head on in the open like a man instead of ducking and throwing missiles from behind a stone wall like a girl, England would have seen many coffins heading home. Behold the Lakins.

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CAUTION:

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The background information upon which the story is narrated is researched from factual historical or biblical information. However, the presentation of this information in this story is heavily exaggerated or altered for the purpose of creating a story line that fits a biased theme of the story which is Tale of a Kayan Prince.

Borneo Four is promoting the author of this book. For full story please visit http://krisiskris.blogspot.com/

Taken from http://krisiskris.blogspot.com/
BEHOLD THE LAKINS!                      
http://knightadventure.blogspot.com/2012/01/jack-lawai-part-2.html

Behold the Lakins.

Historical account telling the Way of the Kayans in the olden days, whether factual, fictional or romanticised, was often passed down from garrulous elders to keen ears among the younger folks. The long-winded narrative from the loquacious mouth could sometime drag on into the night. Nonetheless, the attentive young boys and curious young lassie listened on because the story was exciting, because the chronicle was about their beginning, and because the mooning tale was about the long-forgotten days when the Kayans were lords of the land.

Long before British ships set sail to Sarawak the Kayans had already established a civilization for themselves. Their custom and culture as well as their language had been properly assimilated into their lifestyle. Pagan rituals were aplenty in the old way of the Kayans, some of which rituals required human sacrifices and inhumane measures. Superstitions, omens, spirits were among eccentricity observed in their daily activities. That was way of life in the pagan age. The good influence and the bad element intertwined. The Kayans nation nevertheless prevailed.

While the king maintain law and order in the society, talented individuals –  musicians, singers, dancing girls, tattoo artists, basket weavers, handicraft makers, carpenters, painters, blacksmith and hunters – were given encouragement to excel in their respective field of expertise.

In later years, brass items and beads came to be things of luxury and medium of exchange in trades. A piece of bead namely lukut sekalak can purchase a slave girl, so said the elders.

The ever snooping Englishmen believed that many properties in culture and tradition of the indigenous tribes of Sarawak, including art of boat making and tradition of headhunting, had started from either the Kayan or the Kenyah before other tribes had imitated them. Headhunting for the Kayans was necessitated by the need to find a human head to complete a ritual or to settle a score with the enemies, among reasons. It was not an everyday pursuit, never a hobby, until some other tribes had copied it and turned the headhunting into some sort of a sordid sport.

In the course of fostering the Kayan tribal civilization, much emphasis was however given to military aspect of it. This was understood. The survival of a Kayan kingdom depended largely on the outcome of a big battle. Battles and expeditions were frequent. Way of life in the olden days was military-oriented. Fighting men who had demonstrated extraordinary prowess during battle were honoured. They would soon find their names in songs sung by womenfolk down the hall somewhere.

The Kayans in Baram started their root in Apo Kayan, a plateau straddling Sarawak and Kalimantan. Overpopulation was probably the reason that five Kayan clans from the highland had descended en masse to greener territory in the north in the 16^th Century or earlier. Baram valleys became their new homeland ever since.

As their number multiplied new longhouses were established in four main tributaries along the Baram River. Although separated by many tens of miles, or two days journey by boat, these villages could still relate to one another by their respective original clans: Uma Peliau, Uma Pu, Uma Beluvuh, Uma Bawang, and Uma Pako. Uma literally mean house. Language spoken in these five umas remained Kayan the difference was only noticeable in the accent and a number of slangs.

Thanks to the wise of their kings there was no account of a Kayan longhouse had waged war with another Kayan longhouse. It was said that enemies of the Kayans had been made to understand one crucial thing about the Kayans: an attack on a Kayan mean an attack on the whole of Kayans in Baram valleys; the five Kayan clans will pour on the attackers. When the five banded together for a military purpose it would mean another tribe in Baram would go into extinction. Such was the case with tribe Sibau, tribe Kasau, and a large tribe called Teriang in Tinjar River. The remaining few survivors from the Teriang had to change the name to something else and fled into the mountains after the war.

There was also some unconfirmed story about a Kayan fleet had set sail to Brunei with intention to defeat the Sultan. If the Englishmen had fought the Kayans with swords not guns and cannons, or had confronted the Kayans head on in the open like a man instead of ducking and throwing missiles from behind a stone wall like a girl, England would have seen many coffins heading home.

Behold the Lakins.

It had been said in songs that the Kayan lakins were invincible to blades. When a lakin was in his element he was a sight to behold in the battlefield. Enemy swords can gash his flesh but no sword can enter his body, so said the songs. The lakins were spirited and fearsome warriors whose skills in combat, as remarked by some Englishmen, being second only to none.

Popular folklore mentioned a story of a Kayan lakin. The Lakin and his son were ambushed by some hundreds of Kenyah in a river one afternoon. The enemies lost many men and were retreating to their longboats as the lakin and his son were giving chase.

The lakin had stopped only after he saw his son was lying in the ground with blood oozing from in his head. He did not know the young man was only wounded by a stone hurled at him by the Kenyah during their retreat. Thinking his beloved son was dying he lost the will to live. But he would not let the enemies taking their heads. With his son in his arms he carried them into a rapid where they died together.

Another strange thing happened when their bodies were discovered near a longhouse in the upper stream despite of the river current going down stream. Their death had aroused the anger of his fellow comrades in the lakin battalion; a great battle soon ensued. The enemies were as thick as a colony of rats that when they strung up their cut off penis afterward the rattan string had covered the width of the river from end to end. The lakins had razed to the ground the entire village.

Lakins were gifted warriors. They displayed bodily strength not common in men – moved faster, jumped higher, stayed longer underwater, delivered stronger blows, among unique abilities. When they charged in a large group they were a deadly force. They could die but they could not go down easy. A story about a lakin said he still fought on his two feet in the battlefield even after life had left him.

Not everyone in Kayan armies was a lakin. The lakins were few but the tens of them could do the job in one morning better than a thousand men could do in one day. Not only were the lakins great defenders of Kayan kingdom they were also effective invaders. They helped their kings shaping and expanding their territories in Baram and Belaga in the 19^th Century, although on many occasions the Kayan armies were largely outnumbered.

Another attribute in the Kayan armies was they were well organised. They kept to the chain of command with their king or his heir in the command post. Over the years, the Englishmen, the Malay pirates and the Ibans had posed regular threats to the riverine natives. The Kayans came to be patriotic.

The Kayans had re-established their alliance with their neighbour Kenyahs to counter the threats. Given many similarities found between the Kayans and the Kenyahs, with regard to culture and custom as well as their physical appearance, they were often called Kayan Kenyah. They also equalled each other in combat; now they were allies. Their alliance could be the reason why the Kayan Kenyah, although they made only two-tenth of Sarawak total population, had been able to claim Baram and Belaga which size if combined made one-third of the Sarawak land mass.

Ignoring their past hostilities the Kayans and the Kenyahs, in a renewed spirit of camaraderie, had marched together against a common enemy. They were almost unstoppable.

In Belaga, the Kayan Kenyah’s excursion into lower territories in Rejang River was eventually halted by a punitive expedition organized in 1863 by Englishmen Brooke. Some 100,000 soldiers and mercenaries on Brooke’s side were said to have been involved in that big mission called The Great Kayan Expedition.

A large number of them were killed by rapids during the journey along the long winding Rejang River. Incessant ambushes mounted by the Kayan Kenyah in the rapids had also proved disastrous to the enemies. By the time the Brooke’s armies had breached the Kayan Kenyah’s frontline in Belaga the remaining option available to Brooke was to propose a peace treaty, which the Kayan Kenyah readily accepted for they had not seen enemy forces coming this close to their territory.

Meantime in the north, the five Kayan clans in Baram River had banded together with the Kenyahs to repel the incursion of a large migrating tribe – Iban. Battles between them went back and forth for years as the Ibans moved upriver to claim more territories while the Kayan Kenyah moved downriver to engage the marauders and reclaim the territories. Until the Englishmen put a fort in Lung Meludi and told the Kayan Kenyah not to go further down; the Ibans not to travel further up.

While the Ibans had cooperated with the white government, the Kayan Kenyah did not answer to white men. They attacked the fort. So it was said, if the Englishmen had fought the Kayan Kenyah with swords not guns and cannons, or had confronted the Kayan Kenyah head on in the open like a man instead of ducking and throwing missiles from behind a stone wall like a girl, the Englishmen would have lost the fort, and England would have seen many coffins heading home.

The Ibans made the majority of Sarawak population, nearly half of the total. Their settlements were aplenty and scattered all over the land from Kuching in the far west to Limbang in the northeast. They were always on the move. Unlike the Kayan Kenyah, the Ibans did not keep kings. They followed the bravest one among them until another brave one came along. Often the new brave one had led his followers out of the territory to start another smaller territory elsewhere.

No thanks to their penchant for divisions, that although they had the advantage in number the Englishmen had successfully vanquished their resistances with ease, and consequently subjugated the Ibans under Englishmen’s rule. There was however a story of a ferocious Iban in Betong who put up a stubborn fight against the Englishmen. He was hunted down by the Brooke government for a number of heinous crimes he had committed. Resisting arrest, he had led his men into battle against men with guns and cannons during which he was killed.

Over the years, as the Englishmen tightened their grips on Sarawak, the Kayan Kenyah had eventually submitted, albeit sparingly, to Englishman government. But that was usually accomplished after a long course of patient persuasion.

One leader from among the Kenyah had been observed by the Englishmen as being most resilient in his resisting the Englishmen’s authority over Baram. Many years later Penghulu Gau Asang, a Kenyah king from Lung San, told a British officer: “I am old now but if I were as brash as I used to be, the Englishmen would not have laid their mark in Baram without themselves suffering heavy casualties. The Englishmen may govern the downriver people and the sea, the Ibans and the Malays, they’re formerly under Brunei’s rule and the Sultan had the right to hand them over. But the upper part of Baram is ours; no one had ruled over us, neither can a Brooke rule over us. The black tigers of the jungle that’s what we are and we had never been tamed.”

Brooke or ‘bruuk’ in Kayan means monkey. Black tigers hate thieving monkeys.

The Kayan Kenyah also resisted Malays government when the Malays from Malaya had wanted to amalgamate the Baram valleys with the rest of the country called Malaysia. A battle nearly broke out in Baram River.

Penghulu Anyie Ding did not sign the paper. No doubt he was sometime seen reckless, boastful and stuck-up among his folks, he was nonetheless a hard act to follow in leadership. During one of his justified rages, he nearly overturned a boatful of Englishmen in Lung Meludi in March 1962.

It happened during the time when an English lord acting on behalf of a commission had come to gauge and census the opinion of Baram people over the proposed 1963 Federation of Malaysia incorporating Malaya, Singapore, Brunei, Sabah and Sarawak. The Englishmen were withdrawing from their crown colonies and protectorates throughout South East Asia and had been willing to give these countries their independence. The five countries instead desired a merger. Brunei eventually opted out.

In Sarawak, while the Ibans had supported the Malaysia idea the Kayans and Kenyahs had rejected it. In Baram, Penghulu Anyie Ding was very vocal about not favouring Malaysia, on account of the Ibans. He said the Ibans would be in control of the Sarawak government; they had not been abled to rule over the Kayan Kenyah, maybe this time they could. This had touched on their old sentiment. Elderly Kayans regarded the Ibans as inferior tribe.

On the day when the English lord and his large team journeyed upriver, an army of Kayan Kenyah in a fleet of 600 longboats intercepted the convoy some miles off Lung Meludi. Penghulu Anyie Ding stood in the forefront of his longboat facing the nervous Englishmen.

“You cannot pass!” He bellowed. His men responded by unsheathing their swords and training their spears in the direction of the Englishmen and their escorts. The Penghulu grabbed the side of the Englishmen’s boat and had rudely shaken it as to mean they were serious. The English lord and his commission team together with their escorts quickly retreated. They never returned. In their reports they had marked Upper Baram as non- conformer.

The Sarawak Chinese, too, were in disagreement with the formation of Malaysia.

Nevertheless, the proposal pushed through. On September 16, 1963 the Federation of Malaysia was created. The commission sanctioned by the United Kingdom reported one-third of Sarawak populace had supported Malaysia without qualms, one-third had supported it on conditions, and another one-third had opposed it flat out. The general suspicion was the Iban and Malay’s votes had overwhelmed all other opinions.

The Ibans had ruled over Sarawak for a number of years after the independence. They had been fair to the Kayans and Kenyahs under the administration of two Iban chief ministers consecutively. But then the Ibans made the slip-ups like they often did during the Brunei and Englishmen’s reign, given way for a minnow tribe Melanau to take over.

The Melanaus may not have the ferocity of the Ibans or the prowess of the Kayans but they had the brain of the Englishmen. It was since then the minnow Melanau had ruled over Sarawak. So it was said in songs sung among the Kayans, the Ibans got their asses handed to them. They tried to topple the Melanau government in 1987 but the Chinese and the Kayan Kenyah had rallied behind the Melanau chief minister. The Ibans kept on trying, but it was only natural the Ibans did not have a lasting sense of solidarity, and they had failed each time.

In Baram River it had taken nearly a decade for the Kayan Kenyah to come to term with the 1963 forced independence. In Penghulu Anyie Ding’s perspective the Upper Baram was already an independent territory for as long as he can remember. The envoys from Brunei Sultanate were only visiting; the Englishmen had not exactly ruled over them. They only had introduced their white man’s rules and white man’s religion, and then off they went leaving the Kayan Kenyah minding their own business. Otherwise the lakins had been mobilised.

A notable Iban leader from Betong by name of Alfred Jawing – he later appointed deputy chief minister of Sarawak by the Melanau government –, had made several attempts to befriend the Kayan penghulu. The efforts had proved fruitful. However, despite of their friendliness, Penghulu Anyie Ding had continued to remind Alfred Jawing about the sovereignty of Upper Baram – “You cannot pass.”

Behold the Lakins.

* * *

Veronica Mujan was a lady pastor ministering a church in Lung Tebangan, a small village in Akah River in Upper Baram. She was aged 25, unmarried, although she was a fine looking Kenyah woman originally from Lung Tap. In 1990, she assisted Reverend David Lawai during a Christian missionary work in Lung Sayang in Silat River where she chanced upon his son.

Several weeks later gossips reached the reverend’s ears that the clergywoman and his son could be having a romantic relationship. When relatives from Lawai and Bungan’s side suspected their relationship could become fortuitously permanent, as in marriage, talks were rife concerning another aspect of their coupling. She was a ‘panyin’; he was a ‘maren’ – equivalent of a slave girl and a prince, laterally.

The Kayan Kenyah orthodox worked overtime. They pressured the Lawai to put a stop to the implausible relationship on account of their caste. The reverend obliged. But that was not the only reasons why the reverend had banished his son from the face of Baram. Vee was still ministering in Lung Tebangan, broken hearted and lonesome.

Reverend David Lawai had forgotten about the scandal some years later when he decisively told a crowd of people that everyone, maren or not maren, is equal before God. His son had interjected, saying maren or not maren is not equal before man, and when there was a conflict of interest between God and man the opinion of the latter prevailed. Before he could respond to that his son said he was only speaking for himself, about himself; his personal take. But he had caught his son’s paradox.

Although he was always 23 years older than his son, the younger man’s acumen, or rather unholy-wisdom in his school of thought was not to be underestimated. His son can talk as good as he can preach. God help me. That’s not the only thing that boy is good at.

He held his breath but he held his head high nevertheless. He shall not falter. The Lord God will confer him strength. The importance of his works must not be eclipsed by the sins of his son. He prayed silently. This is my purpose from Christ Jesus, I shall see to His love being conveyed to everyone and may they receive the eternal salvation in His grace.

He had been the servant of God since 1975, thanks to a Christian revival congregation in Lung Meludi.  During the prayer and worship, he felt His presence over him, overwhelming him, filling him, and it was since then he knew He had spoken to him.

Later in the day, he was baptised by a charismatic Englishman. The clergyman told him he was now a new man; the blood of Jesus Christ on the cross had cleansed him. Reverend John Wright Samuel gave him a Christian name ‘David’, after King David of the Old Testament, the man chosen by God to save Israel. Reverend Samuel asked him if he would like to save Telang Usan. He felt as if God was speaking to him through Samuel.

Sidang Injil Borneo in Miri who organised the Lung Meludi event needed someone they could communicate with to spread the Gospel to the indigenous populace in Baram valleys, particularly the Telang Usan part of Baram. SIB or Borneo Evangelical Church was one of the largest Christian denominations in this country. While the Roman Catholics Church had amassed huge followings in Kuching Division in Sarawak and the Methodist Church had taken Sibu Division, the Protestants turned their attention to Miri Division. Lawas, Bario and Baram were open territories with great potentials.

The white Christians gave him a King James Bible for they knew he can read English as good as a white man can. He was schooled for seven years in a mission school when he was a teenager. As soon as he reached Lung Dara, he broke the news to his pagan wife Bungan.

She became a Christian soon after, baptised and given a new name Helena. They owned a timber sawmill in Lung Dara and a number of workers. He was overjoyed when Helena was willing to join him in devoting the remaining of their life to a work God had chosen for them. Hence they closed the business, surrendered the concession to the Sarawak government. They embarked on his new career as preacher man in churches in Baram River.

Their economy was difficult but God was merciful and generous to them. After the birth of their third child, Josephine, the family moved to Miri. SIB Miri sponsored him to a two-year study at Sarawak Bible College. He finished his study and was immediately assigned to Subis district in Miri Division to serve as church pastor.

A few years later he and Helena returned to Lung Dara, this time as Principal of Sekolah SIB Pertama. The SSB academy was established ten years earlier. Under his charge it saw to its great potentials. The academy recruited and trained cadet pastors to cater for the unprecedented growth in number of SIB churches and born-again Christians throughout Baram River and beyond. As the academy gained popularity, it had inspired many souls to devote their life to a career with Jesus and they had applied for years training at the academy.

In 1986, he quit his job at the academy as he embarked on another greater pursuit – tertiary studies with a university in Atlanta via long-distance correspondence course over the next three years.

He did his studies from home in Daleh Kayan in Lung Dara while he continued to play active parts in missionary works in Baram. In middle 1989, he graduated with a Master of Theological Studies. He and Helena flew to Atlanta in the United States for the convocation where they had chanced upon several Christian activists who were very interested with his work in Baram River. It must be by the will of God that they had met.

Quickly they took him with them in a huge non-governmental organisation, U.S-based Ambassadors for Christ Worldwide Society. He was placed under their payroll, earning him a salary of RM7, 000 a month. He reported to their South East Asia head office in Singapore. Now known as Reverend David Lawai, he worked as their operative in Sarawak Malaysia, specifically Miri and Baram. He was also given a special project – Penan.

His ministering and missionary works then prioritised on developing growth of Christian faith among the semi-nomadic Penans, at the same time encouraging them to settle permanently at one place. The Penans like their church, so they stayed.

He relocated his office from Lung Dara to Miri town in 1993. The family rented a considerably big house in Holiday Park in Bakam where they lived for many years. By this time many places in the interior were accessible by a network of timber roads, connecting Miri and Upper Baram. He bought himself a four-wheel drive to convenient his frequent travels. He was often on the road, not only as ambassador for Christ but also for Malaysia Government.

The government had appointed him and given him authority to solemnize and register marriages between Christian couples in churches in Baram valleys. Often he spoke at major Christian events in Miri town. By 1996 he had gained a huge popularity among the God-fearing community in Baram valleys. He heard the people said Reverend David Lawai is a one-strong force who can do in one year what 1000 local Christians could do in twenty years; Reverend David Lawai was a successful Christian story.

He believed God had been with him and his family all along since the day 21 years ago he and Helena committed their destiny to Him. They had their highs and lows in life but He was always there to lend them a breather when they needed a break and strength when they needed to muscle through many uncertainties. The Almighty watched over them and He had blessed them.

God’s blessing was also evident in his firstborn, a young student of high intelligence. He knew the little boy was genius since the beginning. He seemed to have all the abilities and talents stuffed up inside him until not much was left for his brother and sister. God must have spent extra time making him, for a purpose which only He knows best.

As for him, after two decades of administering people’s faith he had been having a notion lately that he could probably serve the people as their elected representative in Sarawak House of Common at the same time.

He had always been the leader of the people. He was a shepherd. He led the masses in moral leadership. Why not lead them in politics as well. He had the popularity, the respect from the people and the education. On top of that, he knew his prestige in the Baram society was further galvanised by the fact he belonged with a Kayan elite breed called ‘maren’.  The Kayans and Kenyahs looked up to the marens in the area of leadership, because traditionally the marens were the aristocrats in Kayan Kenyah social hierarchy. In Belaga, maren was also called ‘lajak’, meaning king.

He hailed from family of leaders.

* * *

So it was talked among a group of elderly women that night about the Kayan caste.

A crowd of Kayan Kenyah people gathered around them as these knowledgeable old women rummaging in the recess of their memory for some information they had memorised as it was passed down to them by their seniors some 60, 70 years earlier. The memory was still as valid as their medulla oblongata.

The Kayan hierarchical social structure some 300 years ago, they said, either in Baram or Belaga was stratified into four ranks. The hereditary strata, shaped by order of seniority: Maren—Hipun Uma—Panyin—Dipen.

Marens, commonly grossed as aristocrats, were a family of nobles who chose among themself a penghulu or chieftain to whom they gave all respect, privileges and authority merited a king. This supreme leader ruled over the villagers as well as any villages related and allied with the principal village. Him in command, he had large say in the movement of the people as well as their tradition and religion. The Way of the Kayans was centred on his vested interest in maintaining control of the community. The folks were not allowed to build a new village unless they were accompanied by a member of the marens from their natal village, so said the Kayan law. This maren would become their village chief; he answered only to the king. Not everybody can become maren just as not every maren can become king. Maren status was hereditary thus why lineage was a matter of great esteem to the Kayans. King lineage was most esteemed maren, was fiercely protected.

Hipun Uma or Hipui was comparable to vassals for they can own properties, servants, and an army of workers. They also supplied the king with fighting men in the event of tribal war. The hipui men were generally excellent combatants. In the Kayan pyramid, the hipui were minor aristocrats or lower marens with kinship relations to the king. In social arena, given their kinship, the marens and the hipui were generally looked upon as equal. They shared a number of privileges and respect with the marens, limited only in a few areas. The hipui can easily ascend to the maren rank through intermarriages between these classes.

The marens and the hipuis led the villagers in establishing trades with other villages and maintaining diplomacy with other tribes namely Kenyah and Penan. They also played central roles in festivities and pagan rituals. Their knowledge of the tradition and flair for songs, music and dances added value as well as merriment to cultural activities in the village. Their opinion mattered in the Kayan society; their say carried much weight in public opinion.

The eldest son of a maren king was a likely successor. If he refused or was too young to lead, his most qualified uncle would take over. The selection of a king among the marens in Kayan social hierarchy was a delicate matter, public opinion being serious consideration.

Panyin, loosely translated as slaves but in effect, commoners, made the bulk of the village population. They belonged with and served in the households of the Hipui. They worked in fireplaces and farms or hunted animals for food for the large household. They can own some properties or apartments of their own, subject to approval from their Hipui. They can choose spouses for themselves, as long as the partner was from the same class with them, or lower but never higher. Despite of their given status, they were not mistreated or demeaned. Their movement and opinion in the village society were restricted only in certain areas exclusive to the Maren and Hipui.

Dipen sat at the bottom of the Kayan social strata. They were commonly referred to as war captives. Notwithstanding their former standing in their original village, now defeated, were given status Dipen. Dipens of high standing in their former village were usually made to serve in the apartments of the marens, further aggravating the humiliation suffered by survivors in the defeated village, if any had survived.

Nevertheless, dipen status was temporary. Over times they could ascend to the Panyin class. Under no circumstance can a panyin ascend to hipui or maren. But they kept on trying – intermarriage. But such effort was not to become, because in the festooned corner of the society the marens guarded their lineage insistently against impurity.

A hipui was permitted to marry a maren. A panyin or dipen was prohibited from marrying a maren – it’s almost a tribal sin. Public opinion barrelled down on the couple could not be pleasant. The couple suffered emotionally or be forced to separate.

Socially, Maren held in place other caste in the Kayan Pyramid. Spiritually, Maren was venerated and its value hyped up not without reasons. Back then in the pagan age ‘tulah’ or outlandish punishment from the unknown often came into play. Oddly but not scarcely, it was often prompt.

Married couple who committed the tribal sin had suffered from a prolonged sickness. Non-maren couples must not hold their wedding in a manner of a maren wedding, or serious illness could befall them afterward, if not immediately. Couple of lower maren must not hold a wedding as grand as that of a king’s wedding or sickness could come to either one of them. Only a couple of high maren was fit to sit atop a big gong during their wedding. A child must not walk over a maren while he was sleeping or death will take the child.

Maren was encouraged to marry a fellow maren, either from their village or neighbouring village. Kayan maren were allowed to marry Kenyah maren. But a marriage between two marens who were closely related was off-limits.

Incestuous relationship in Kayan society was a matter of grievous offense. It could result in misfortune at the expense of the village such as poor harvest, flood, fire, disease, or mysterious death of villagers. When the villagers suspected something amiss they quickly investigated. Often they caught the offenders and hurriedly put them to death in order to see the calamity disappear. Oddly but not uncommon, things returned to normal afterward. Hence why the villagers were refrained from misconducts or behaving shamefully for fear it could evoke the wrath of the unknown. Public opinion mattered in a Kayan community.

Divorce was infrequent among the Kayans. The luxury of having multiple wives was understandably available only to the marens, given their fame and wealth. Yet even the maren men needed to be wary of the public opinion.

Kayan folklore made a mention of a terrible disaster that had happened to a longhouse.

A group of villagers, in haste to complete a burial for their king, had mistaken a young child for an expendable dipen or war captive held in the village. They had killed the child in a pagan ritual. She was made the king’s companion in the hereafter.

But her grandmother knew they had taken the life of their fellow villager. In a fit of anger she dressed up two frogs and released them among the people while they were gathering in a veranda that night. As the frogs jump about in their funny clothes the longhouse was filled with uproar of laughter. The grandmother had long gone, running away from the village as fast as she could because she knew it was wrong for people to kill their own people. It was also wrong to laugh at animal. Then it happened. The sky opened up and down come hailstorm. The entire village and its surrounding were buried under a pile of stone. What remained of the place today was a stone mountain.

“But that was a long time ago before Borneo Island put immigration checkpoints all over the place, before Sarawak found Jesus,” said a young man from among the Kayan Kenyah crowd, as soon as one of the old women had finished her rambling.

They could expect to hear sharp criticisms from this young man for he was known for his candour, as well as his sarcasm, but no one had asked him to relinquish his right to speak in their midst, because he was a maren and the maren always had the right to speak in public.

He grinned, knowing his leverage. As soon as that lopsided smile had disappeared he continued his speech. “After the arrival of Christianity, the pagan belief collapsed – thank you, no more hailstorms. Hoorah! The Kayan social ranks also collapsed. Hallelujah! Politics, religions, education, Chinese, Malays, Indians, money, football, disco, condoms, this and that thrown into the same blender and out come a new batch of Kayans who desired freedom of movement and equality. Welcome to Malaysia everyone!”

The young man swaggered to the centre of the hall as all heads trailed him. He continued in Kayan language, “They freed the slaves. The swordsmen left the field. The king lost his crown. Kingdom of the Kayans collapsed!  One thing had survived, though – the dancing girls!”

He could hear small laughter from among a group of youth. His sister who was sitting in one of the main tables waved at him, signalling him to quit his speechmaking. He ignored her.

He lifted a finger, pointed it to the ceiling and said, “Behold! There’s one other thing that had survived the conversion of Lakin Kayan to Begging Kayan.” His remark had forced some people to laugh audibly. But some other people were already showing displeasure. They suspected he was a bit drunk.

He said in the modern days, maren existed only in name. Yet the respect for lineage lived on. Its precious property, the pedigree, was not forsaken, especially when it concerned marriage between two Kayans. Family tree, genealogy, who’s-your-grandfather were among background information asked before a marriage could take place between Kayan couples. The issue of maren or not-maren was still relevant; it could make or break a marriage made in heaven. A panyin was not fit to marry a maren; maren can only marry a maren. A panyin was not fit to become a leader; a maren must lead. A panyin was not fit to tell the marens this and that. These rules were not written on paper whatsoever yet the enforcement of it seemed evident – aha, Public opinion.

“The funny thing is, ladies and gentlemen, the same public opinion was no where can be felt when the prettiest of the maren girls was married to the ugliest of the Chinese coolies or the blackest of a black man whose Negro forefathers were slaves in America. Public opinion applied only to the Kayans apparently. Boo!” He announced confidently.

Some women covered their mouths with their hands. They were either in shock or trying not to laugh. Again, they suspected he was a bit drunk.

This 300-strong group of Kayan Kenyah, majority from maren and hipui class, most of them Kayans, gathered in Park Hotel ballroom in Miri that night to celebrate 1996 New Year merriment. It was a joyful night, casual mood, plenty of food and gossiping, until some verbose woman brought up the topic maren, until the young man opened a can of worms.

They suspected he was a bit high. But there was no alcohol served in the house that night.

The man suspected-to-be-drunk continued his rant. “Spare everyone the trouble! Cancel out the maren-panyin because it’s not fair to everyone. If it was in the teachings of the religion we had created this division among ourselves, very well, what you are waiting for, cancel out Christianity, too!”

The people laughed, not because it was funny but because they thought they just heard a rant from a drunk.

At this point some people had wanted to interject. He ignored them. The young man raised his voice. “You’ve tried to become a Christian at the same time you’re a maren. The Christian side of you said everyone, black or white, is equal before God. The maren side of you said yuck that’s girl is only a panyin what right she has in my home.”

He pointed a finger in the direction of the crowd and said, “Apparently we cannot be Christian and maren at the same time. So choose, you want to become a Christian or a maren? It’s your call!”

They hated him.

They liked him.

They remembered his father.

David Lawai Anyie made a perfect profile for Kayan maren. He did not have to worry about hailstorm, his maren was pure. In 1968, he married Bungan Karing, a Kenyah maren, the eldest child of Penghulu Gau Karing first son of Penghulu Gau Asang of Lung San. Along the course of time down to Bungan’s mother, the San nobles had taken great care of the bloodline and had been unwilling to compromise the maren pride with introduction of lesser rank, confirmed or suspect, into the lineage.

Gau Karing, while acknowledging the force of wind of social change brought about by modernisation, had made room for a little exception. His daughters can marry commoners. But his eldest daughter, his firstborn, must preserve the tradition. She was symbolic. When David Lawai Anyie asked for his permission to take his daughter Bungan as his rightfully wedded wife Gau Karing knew the public-opinion would be smiling as broadly as he was beaming.

Lawai Anyie equalled Bungan as ‘maren ayak’ or higher maren. He was born to Penghulu Anyie Ding and Bulan Laing of Lung Liam. Bulan was Anyie’s second wife. His first wife had given him three daughters before a son was born to them. In that respect, Lawai was not his firstborn; neither was he the first son. The order of seniority in Anyie’s crowded household did not favour Lawai. It was his mother Bulan who bolstered his right to become Anyie’s first. Gau Karing and the San nobles were not paying attention to his father’s lineage; they were looking at his mother’s.

Bulan Laing was a higher maren – the first born of the first born of the first born of the old king of Liam. Of all the maren in Lung Liam she was ranked first in the maren class. In the eye of the San nobles their first born was marrying the first born in the house of Bulan Laing the granddaughter of the old king of Liam.

Penghulu Anyie Ding was a lesser maren in comparison to his wife. Any man for that matter was a lesser maren in comparison to Bulan Laing. The one man who can surpass her in the maren standing would be her first grandson. The purity in Bungan Karing’s bloodline and that of Bulan Laing’s would hail him as the highest of maren in the whole of Baram in front of the Kayans and Kenyahs alike. As symbolic as that, a supreme maren would soon come to be. San and Liam celebrated.

Lung Liam in downriver and Lung San in upriver were neighbours, separated only by a treacherous rapid. Upriver from Lung San, the territory belonged to the Kenyah; downriver from Lung Liam, the Kayans occupied the territory. In the old days before the Kayans and the Kenyahs become allies, Lung Liam and Lung San were their battleground. Throughout the conflict neither the Kayans nor the Kenyahs had retreated. Neither could they advance. Gau Asang from Lung San and Lake’ Nyipa, king of Liam, meted out a truce between them. Lung San and Lung Liam took new roles since that day – place for meeting, trades, intermarriages and sports.

They had been numerous of intermarriages taking place between Lung Liam Kayans and Lung San Kenyahs over the last 50 years. This marriage between a Liam noble and a San noble would permanently seal their kinship. San and Liam could now come under one king, as symbolic as that. But Lawai was not to be. It had to be his son.

A son was born to Bungan Karing and Lawai Anyie Ding in 1971, their firstborn. Gau Karing and Anyie Ding together with their folks quickly travelled down to Lung Dara to bless their grandson. His parents had named him Jack Lawai. The two penghulus named the boy ‘Lejau’, meaning tiger.

He will walk graciously like a Kenyah and run gallantly like a Kayan, said Anyie to Gau, to which Gau had replied, because to say Kenyah cannot run is like saying Kayan cannot walk. The two men laughed. They had not been seen as cheerier as that before. Gau Karing, known for his wits and shrewdness, passed away in 1979. Anyie Ding breathed his last a year later. He was known for his flair for oratory as well as his fierceness and history with women.

By the time the lejau was only nine-years old, the Kayans and Kenyahs in Baram had spoken proudly of their supreme maren. His academic performance in school’s examination was no match for anyone in his class, said the womenfolk. He’s showing mental development faster than boys his age, said the menfolk. He can also draw and paint well!  He’s cute, too! News about the boy travelled from mouth to mouth. Often they mentioned he walked like Kenyah run like Kayan. Another crowd would disagree, saying he walked like Kayan run like Kenyah. The first crowd would disagree.

In 1982, the boy delighted everyone once again. He scored five A’s, the maximum high, in a general examination ‘Peperiksaan Penilaian’ for primary schools across the country. It was record high for the Kayan Kenyah in Baram. In 1984, he was among a handful of students selected from across Sarawak to continue their secondary level in Kolej Cemerlang Tanjong Lobang in Miri, a prestigious college that had the right to brag for having produced many brilliant students over the years who later had became doctors, engineers, academicians, as well as politicians who worked as ministers in Sarawak government.

That college boy was the young man who now spoke in front of everyone in the hall. He was neither a doctor nor a minister. Their Supreme Maren was a drunk.

The people murmured. Some showed annoyance, some were awe-struck. Jack Lawai’s antic was equivalent of a Lord of Rochester insulting Buckingham Palace. But this young lord had also insulted their religion. What with him suggesting Christianity had made the Baram folks so lame in the guts they forgot how to fight for their rights already.

Helena Bungan quickly walked over to her son, politely whispered something to him as she consciously ushered him to main exit, out of everyone’s view. She asked him to leave the hotel at once.

Reverend David Lawai watched from his seat. The flower pinned to his chest and the decorative ribbons on his chair could not belie his embarrassment. His face was as red as the napkin. That devil had done it again!

* * *

His guests had left but the words they had told him continued to play in his head. While he was lying in bed his wife asked what was troubling him. He asked her if she would like to see her husband on TV, speaking at functions, going around meeting people, handing over goodies to them as they cheer him on as the Chief Minister of Sarawak. Helena Bungan rolled over, giving her back to him, ignoring him in his daydreaming.

After Sunday worship at the church in the day he had taken the opportunity to step out of his comfort zone for a change. So he had participated in some politics talk with a group of men. At his turn to speak he told them the native people in Baram River must come together as one voice in their protest against the government’s blatant practice of bulldozing their land properties under the guise of clearing the land for better developments for the natives when in actual case the whole scheme of thing was to benefit the pockets of the gluttonous few. The acquisition of lands was irreversible. It’s a broad daylight robbery!

The friends concurred with him. They liked him. They liked this side of him better. They said to one another, why not he becomes the government.

That was not the first time he had heard that.

Several active members of political parties had visited him at home on several occasions, seeking his views on current political scenarios and what was the sentiment among the constituents. Often at the end of the night they asked if he was willing to become elected representative for the Upper Baram.

He laughed off the suggestion, saying the lord God had yet to be consulted. They told him at the rate things were going down in Baram the natives needed somebody who could lead them in political water more urgently than they needed a prayer in the church; because government did not listen to prayers. They told him he had saved their souls; now save their bodies.

Those words, that catchphrase, had been getting into his head over and over lately. Now he seemed preoccupied with the notion he was probably made for this cause – politics. He must choose between two types of politics: government or oppositions. He could join the oppositions, amassing evidences about the government was hell bent on exploiting the people’s trust. That would only add to salvo of accusations already hurled at the bad government without any of them had left a dent.

He concluded, the oppositions were only a group of dogs howling day in day out about the government was incompetence without themselves knowing for certain if they could do a better job.

Or he could play it rather tactfully and secretively – join SNAP.

He was thinking again. SNAP is one of the four parties that formed the Sarawak government. He can contest under SNAP ticket, win the election, and will see to the possibility of earning him a portfolio in the government right from his first term. He can expect to see himself in the State Legislative Assembly where motions are debated. The August House is the fitting avenue to voice out his dislike over certain practices in the government.

On the other hand, he had some uncertainties. He was probably too naive to know how Sarawak politics worked. He probably had miscalculated the government habits, or underestimated the complexity of government logics or overestimated his chances of making any impact in the government house.

He was thinking again. These considerations, however, are minor setbacks as he could always learn the game as he goes along. Did he just say run with the dogs? The main worry now was how to get there. But what about his job for the Christians churches? Well, maybe his guests were right. He has saved the people’s souls, now save their bodies. Maybe it’s time for change. Or maybe he can continue to play ambassador for Christ at the same time he’s an ambassador for the Baram natives to Sarawak Government. Two pronged strategy! But what if he has to choose between the two?

Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s. Matthew 22 verse 21.

He had concluded. His choice was SNAP.

He was thinking again. Jack Lawai.

What about him?

That poor imitation of James Dean is going about with his whims and fancies seemingly oblivious his unholy crafts are much to the detriment of his reputation in the Christian world. What is it he wanted to prove? Nah, he’s only a prodigal son. No, he’s more of a threat than that. Try King David and his heir Absalom of the Old Testament.

He imagined the arrogant young man was laying siege to nearly every Christian forts and castles he had built over the course of 20 years. That reckless man could make one mistake, like murder, and the whole thing will fall on his father’s head like a stone tower crashing down. Far be it! His son must stay out of the way. He must not bring him down. Especially now as he also needed his political image

He was thinking again. Jack Lawai is his greatest threat it seems, his adversary on many fronts. Has God’s favour left him? Is this a punishment from the Lord God? But he has not sinned against Him. Is this a test from Him?

He held his breath and he brought his two hands together. He prayed. He hoped God would not forsake him just as He had not forsaken King David during his time of trials. As he laid himself to sleep beside Helena he remembered a gossip.

They said his son had warned the folks, that when a man does evil it is because the Devil has made him do it. But a man can sometime do more evils than what the Devil has made him do. Likewise, when God asks a man to do something the man can sometime overdo it.

For some reason, he felt as if his son was attempting an indirect reproach at him.

* * *

She had her group of girlfriends. They were young girls aged between 13 and 15. They were not among the fabulous girl groups in Lung Dara, but they had their moment. She guessed she was not the diva in the group as she was often getting told instructions – Fanny do this, Fanny hold this, Fanny take this to school tomorrow –, while her friend Lillian simply sat around looking pretty all the time. She had her moment, too, no worries.

They thought it was cool hanging out with the cute boys. Not that she was in some relationship with any of them. She didn’t even know how to kiss! Not that she was crazy for attention either, but it was exciting for sure to be in the spotlight sometime, or tried to be in the spotlight. If anything she had something to tell dear diary afterward.

Back then in this riverside town the boys were crazy about bikes while the girls were crazy about bikers. Motorcycle cubs and scramblers were virtually the only chic means of transports available in the streets of Lung Dara. Other choices were three-tonne trucks and old-fashion bicycles; they didn’t get the mention in her diary. The guys spray-painted and modified their motorbikes gorgeously. No one needed crash helmet.

On weekends, the guys put grease on their hair, styled a fringe before stepping into their faded jeans and chequered shirts. Was that the correct order, she didn’t know. Then off they went to the bazaar riding on good-looking motorcycles in a group of three or four. The girls put on their best dress, fashioned their hair nicely before stepping into those pretty wedges, and off they went to the bazaar, too, afoot, in a group of five or six.

On Sundays, the bazaar easily turned into a busy social place from morning till nightfall. The elderlies and adults sat around coffee tables, exchanging news and rumours. The young ones mingled in the five-foot way trying to outdo one another in look and fashion. Everyone knew almost everyone in this riverside town. That’s easily 4,000 faces to remember. No problem. This town was pretty much quarantined anyway, with only one exit and entry point – the river.

A gang of motorcycles rode by. The girls got excited. The pretty ones got the chance to get a ride on the back of the motorcycles. The hunks smiled proudly as they journeyed idly in the streets of Lung Dara, making purposeless stops every here and there, killing time until somebody could come up with a crazier idea. At times when the mood was right there was a picnic somewhere. Music and dance, all the way was fun. She supposed this was the Lung Dara version of Greese the movie. That’s the glamour!

Come Mondays the Greese show was officially over as everyone revisited the same dreary routines they did last Monday. The girls returned to their mamas, the boys quit the Travolta fringe; the students and pupils returned to their boarding schools, eagerly they waited for Friday to ring the last bell. She walked to school everyday, yes, and her movement was not restricted by the fence perimeter, alright, but all her friends were trapped in the school until Saturday, so.

Lillian also lived outside the school, but they were friends only on the weekends.

On one Sunday afternoon after church the girls were doing their leisure walk in the bazaar when they saw a lone rider passing by. The tall motorcycle stopped near Lee Kiat music shop. The girls got excited. Everyone seemed to know his name, or tried to know his name. She saw three other guys went to meet him. They talked awhile. Oh my god, they fought. Cool! Just like in the movie, except no one was singing.

The tall motorcycle continued its journey while the three guys were lying in the ground, clutching at their stomach. She recognised the man on the tall motorcycle, she called his name. The tall motorcycle stopped. She hurried over and climbed onto the back of his machine. As they rode passed the crowded bazaar everyone was looking at them. She finally got her famous ride – but only because they were cousins and he was sending her home.

Jack Lawai was the new sensation in town.  He came with a bang. Two years later he was still the new kid in town. His name was everywhere in her diary ever since, nevermind she was only another girl waiting in line to go on a ride with him. Lillian got the ride, until Marie came along. Farida was next before Rose took over. Jack Lawai was not exactly the cutest as a few other Lung Dara guys were better looking than him, but his popularity and the enigma...

It was since then her days were no longer the same. She had left her group and joined Jack’s group. She was the youngest member in the group but no one could instruct her to hold their bag because Jack was her cousin. What more, she could always hang out at his home and mingle with his family, because they were cousins, and because her mother and sister did not mind her going there after school. He often talked to her, or she actually who often talked to him while he bothered only gave her a yes, no or hmm. But that’s okay because Jack had always been nice to her, when he wanted to be nice, or he tried to be nice.

She was a curious young girl back then, she admitted, probably as curious as a kitten observing a battery-operated toy motorcycle rattling about on a Lego structure. Jack on the hand was a man of mystery, or was it because she could not fathom the misplaced relativity concerning his personality – that he’s a bad man who held another baddy’s head underwater yet he also spoke of Jesus in the same breath, and that he could woo any girl he desired but he chose to flirt with religion.

Jack had a thing with that religion, or was that an obsession.

It was probably her asking too many questions that had eventually won his trust. He started to treat her like a friend, a chatting buddy, someone he could confide in whenever he got frustrated with certain matters at home. His brother and sister stayed at the boarding school on weekdays. Jack only had his adopted brother Sho-rak at home, beside their parents. But Sho-rak sided with his parents when Jack was upset with them. So he visited her in Usun Padang where she stayed with her sister. Or, when she was already around at the Lawai’s he took her for a ride somewhere.

He only needed someone to talk with without expecting any opinion in return. She, of course, was the silent audience. That was why he liked to tell things to her, because she asked questions but she did not offer opinions. In the second year of their friendship he told her a secret.

He asked her to keep it between them. She liked the idea of sharing a secret with the leader of the pack. Excitedly she had nodded without knowing what she was about to hear was indeed a dark secret of the darkest kind. Christianity was at peril.

She was witnessing the advent of a Kayan monk.

Reverend David Lawai had raised his children in a tight Christian environment. It was too tight it had choked one of them. Imagine a monastery nun clutching at her rosary too tightly it broke.

This had been going on from the time the children realized they were actually living with a God’s man. The reverend had asked them to watch him closely. Do it like daddy. Walk in God’s grace. Live by faith. Faith, we shall prevail. Remember the Ten Commandments. Say a prayer before every meal or before you go to sleep and when you rise in the morning. Next, his by-laws: mind your language, watch your manners, no swearing, no fighting, no smoking, no drinking alcohol, no socialising at night, and so on.

But when new items were added to the list from time to time, the instructions came to be burdensome. No unchristian books in the house. No comics, no Archie, no Gila-Gila. No listening to pop music. No singing pop songs. At times it was too much of a draconian rule for the children to comprehend. While his other siblings were able to put up with it, Jack lost his patience easily.

He of course broke many rules, when he came home during school holidays, sometime for the purpose of piquing the man who made those rules. Of course he received the penalty.

There was a room in their home in Lung Dara. It was a large room with adjoining toilet. No telephone, no TV or radio set. The door was closed all the time. The windows were barred. His father each time sent him to this room as his punishment. The door was locked from the outside. Three hours, sometime a whole day, locked up in this room. This room was virtually a prison. This prison was made specifically for him since he was aged 15.

The room was filled with hundreds of books of different sizes on every wall, mainly Christian-oriented books. On the lower shelves were hundreds of copies of Reader’s Digest, National Geographic magazines, Asia Week, and Newsweek among other general stuff. At the centre of the room sat a big writing table. A big typewriter on the table. A big cushion chair facing the table. A long sofa in a corner. A toilet door in the other corner.

This was his father’s study.

Quite ironically the prison came to be his favourite corner after some times. Nearly every evening after dinner he volunteered himself to the room, and there he lounged, lost in his reading, until his brother popped up at the door to remind him of his favourite TV show Remington Steele.

Given no interruption he was able to finish two books in a day, hindered only by his imperfect English as majority of the reading materials were written in that language. But that was only a fleeting holdup as his English had improved rapidly along the course of reading. He liked National Geographic magazines very much. Then he tried Reader’s Digests. He liked it very much, too. Next were Asia Week and Newsweek. He found it quite a challenge to enjoy the reading. He read them nevertheless. He finished them all, too. There was a big typewriter on the table and a stash of blank paper sitting in a tray. He had not used one of those before so he had tried his hands on that machine as well. He liked it. He typed many letters in English – to himself. He also typed letters to his girlfriends.

This was still his prison. A prison he liked to be in, save when he had to abort a date. His mother was glad he had found himself a hobby in reading although she was sure his father had not expected this. Thanks to his punishment the wayward boy had turned into a jolly merry bookworm. They did not mind giving him all the privacy he needed, so long he did not start a fire in there.

There was something else his parents had not expected him to uncover in his naughty corner. He had finished reading all general books. He turned to the other books.

The other books were not for young people. They were the same ones read by scholars, historians, presidents, kings and priests across the world. A Kayan teenager joined them and he had enjoyed the reading. He read about Holy Roman Empire and historical accounts of Israel, Judea, Arabs, Moors and the Spanish inquisition. He came to learn why they had killed Peter on a cross turned upside down. They burnt Joan of Arc.

He read many things. He read summaries, reviews, debates and arguments about contents in the holy book. He also read claims made by Charles Darwin. The information was biased towards the Church alright but he had soaked up all those materials into the back of his skull. After the prison, he researched for relevant information in libraries in Miri where he was schooled. He looked for information that had explained the arguments or incidents from the other side of the bench.

In the other books he found Darwinism apes. He found Islam. He found Buddhist and Russia. He found life outside the Christian circle. He found religions were man-made and all prophets had said they had the authority from God. Then one prophet said the other prophet had lied. He decided he had seen enough.

Gospel truth was unable to answer him. It did not work that way for him anymore. He wanted to find true truth, truth that science was able to explain, not some religion-truth that had killed many a scientists when they told the Church that earth was in fact rounded-shape not flat.

He also read serious stuff in the study – his father’s reference books for the Master Degree programme.

His father was a holy man. Hence he had envisaged himself as devil’s advocate. He presumed the holy man saw only to straightforward meaning in the writing in the holy book. Hence a devil’s advocate viewed it from a different perspective – think out of the box.

“You’re wrong.” He hissed as he looked at a photo in the wall. The reverend was smiling.

In his secret chamber, the young devil made for him questions and answers, mostly questions. He trained himself religiously. Master of Arts, Christian Bashing. He knew his studies could take years to complete, perhaps a lifetime. But already he felt he was making progress. Sometime later when he looked at his shadow in the wall he thought he had grown a pair of horns.

He was seldom seen in the study by the time he was aged 18. He had grown much taller and broader than his father. He did many outings with friends at night. Nevertheless, reading was still in the agenda; to the prison he went. He had acquired some skill in speed reading, was able to finish a book in a single sitting.

What else he had read in the prison, she did not know.

Jack sometime told his friends about new discoveries he made in his reading. Or he tried to tell them. But none of them enjoyed listening to some preaching anymore than what had been given to them during Sunday worship. Chasing girls was a realistic pursuit. His sermon, too advanced for them, had felt on deaf ears. She heard him.

She heard him alright but he must have thought she was no fun. Then he got bored and they came to talk about other things, interesting little things within their age range.

He’s a funny man sometime when he mixed Biblical stuff with other stuff, such as when an elderly man, upset with Jack’s bravado, had asked him if he had taken drugs. Jack replied with straight face, yes, he had, it’s called Judges Chapter 15 verse11.

A fat woman had told him to start leading a Christian life for goodness sake. Jack Lawai asked her to go home, open the Bible and read up in Book of Epson before she could talk to him about Christian life. She had returned to see Jack, angrier than the day before. She said there was no such book in the Bible. Jack said he shall not listen to a Christian who had taken two days to know there’s no such book in the Bible.

He made a riddle. When his friends could not answer it correctly they had gotten her to make him leaked the answer to her; she to them. He was upset when they solved his puzzle and that he must reward them for that. He recited from Book of Judges ‘If you had not ploughed with my heifer, you would not have solved my riddle’. She had spent a lengthy time that night reading in the Book of Judges in search of that particular verse. She found it. She liked Samson; he’s funny when he’s mad – quite like Jack.

One day, Jack gave them a Mensa quiz. He asked how many pairs of animals Moses had taken into his ark during the great flood. The friends went home. They searched in the Bible only to remember it wasn’t Moses but Noah.

Thanks to Jack’s quizzes and riddles even the most barbaric-looking among his friends had beginning to show some interest in the Bible. Nobody wanted to be left out. Some reward awaiting the first correct answer.

There was this time he imitated a clergyman conducting an intense session of worship and prayer. He told Bonny to drop to the floor because Holy Spirit had come upon him. When Bonny hesitated he floored him nevertheless with a push at Bonny’s head. Turning to a group of friends in front of him he said that was exactly how a pastor did it to a few boys during Easter convention in Long Teran – no Holy Spirit, he pushed. Much to her surprise, another two friends had concurred with him. When they repeated the scenario, she tried hard not to laugh.

It had not occurred very clearly to her back then that Jack was actually looking for something else in the religion. He did not pray, at least not voluntarily. He could sit for only half an hour on end in Sunday worship before he would disappear. Some time later he did not go to church at all. When his mother demanded an explanation he told her the preacher man had talked so much about himself and little about God.

He said the clergyman recited one verse in the Bible and quickly related his interpretation of the scripture to his personal life blah-blah-blah that at the end of the day everyone remembered everything he told them about him-him-him. His mother retorted, saying he was actually giving a ‘testimonial’, not a bad thing. Jack asked what testimonial that was when the pastor also used the Sunday service telling about the government was bad-bad-bad.

As the woman was struggling for explanation, Fanny had chipped in, saying she liked going to church as many of her friends were there. He lambasted her, said her reason for going to church was akin to partygoers going to a carnival. She sought worldly entertainment – in God’s house! When she was unable to articulate her reasoning as aggressively as his accusing her she went away pouting, or was she crying.

Many years had passed since their last chat in 1990.

She sent him letters, he replied each time.

After he was gone from Lung Dara she was gone from the gang. She reconnected with her old group of girlfriends. She missed him. It was not the same anymore in Lung Dara. The town suddenly had gone quiet and peaceful. She liked it peaceful – but not that quiet!

Oh, well, get on with it.

But he should have visited her some years later.

She was a late bloomer. His little Fanny has grown into a princess.

She was in Form Five when she started paying attention to politics. It was because everywhere she went in the bazaar she heard people talking about the State General Elections. She was nearing her 18^th birthday then, another three years before she would be eligible to vote. She could somewhat fathomed what had made the people angry with their politician.

The people were talking about their YB. They said the elected representative must be voted out in the general election. He was collaborating with timber tycoons. His people in Baram bore the brunt of excessive logging. Temper flared. Then they talked about his daughter dated a Muslim man, his teenage son spent lavishly overseas, his wife was no good and on it went until it was nearly believable the YB and his family had came from Mars.

It was over their ‘temuda’ or native customary rights land – or in coffeshop slang, NCR. Competitive logging or some development projects had encroached into their NCR properties. The YB couldn’t care less. But she thought she had heard that since three years ago. They also talked about forest. Same story. Except this time they also said some parts of the rainforest must be preserved as to balance out the ecosystem. She did not know exactly what ecosystem was but that was how Harrison Jau had phrased it; how she had repeated it to friends afterward.

Now folks were thinking maybe Reverend David Lawai could make a better politician than their present YB who sucked up too much to his Melanau boss in Kuching that he had neglected the interest of his own people. The folks were saying back then in the old days, no Brooke, no Englishman, no Iban, no Sultan of Brunei could simply cut down a tree in the Kayan country without risking his head getting cut off afterward.

Some folks said openly they would cast votes in Lawai’s favour if he would stand for election this year or the next one in 1997 or any election for that matter. Another section of the crowd said that’s a bad idea. Lawai knew everything about heaven but nothing about politics. But he’s an honest man, said another folk. But he’s more interested in helping the Penans, another voice interjected. But he’s a Kayan maren. Maren can always be a good leader for the Kayans, countered another voice.

Here was the point where she found it quite a pain to tolerate the habit of the Kayans. It was when Jack Lawai, out of no where, got into politics.

She knew it! She knew they just could not leave him alone. Her sister was right.  Kayan politics was a nasty state of affair. Jealousy could come into play. It was Lawai the father they were after, not Lawai the son. They said if David Lawai was unable to behave a badass in his own home what chance he was able to behave a corrupt government?

She agreed. He’s badass alright, what with his arrogance and gung-ho attitude. They already had many names for him – Jack-Lihai, Jack the Hand, Jack-Lakin because of his scars, Jack-Levi’s after a woman found his jeans in her daughter’s room, Blackjack because they thought he would not get to live pass age 21, and Jack-Devil because he’s the opposite to his father. All these names were meant to disgrace him. Now they used him to disgrace his father.

She let the irrational crowd had a piece of her mind that day.

She told them they didn’t know the reverend had been doing his best to tame that wild young man. All other fathers would have failed miserably by now if they had had a son in the shape of Jack Lejau Lawai in their home.

“So don’t try to judge the father if you don’t know Jack Lawai!”

As she walked away from the speechless crowd she knew she was right. She had no regret saying that. She had no qualms about it. That’s the truth. Nobody, practically nobody, could tame Jack Lawai.

She was mad with Livan one day. She had wished she could send her sister to him if arguing with someone was her new-found fetish. No one she knew had been able to argue with him. Mr Kuok was not able to argue with him, neither was Mother Agatha able to. Jack could take on anyone. He knew what to say and where it’d hurt the most, or twisted things around when it didn’t help his case. But maybe his father was able argue to with him.

She knew Jack and his father were not on talking terms. They did not shout in each other’s face; their mind did the shouting. At times when they acted up, Helena was to become the middle person, sometime she, transmitting communications between the two men. They did not even smile to each other.

She had not seen the two men arguing, but what if.

She played out a scenario in her imagination. Jack Lawai and David Lawai faced off during a public debate over the subject of morality.

She had been watching them for years. She reckoned she knew how the reverend spoke. Jack’s thoughts in his letters were quite something. She reckoned she knew how his words would turn out if voice was added.

Reverend Lawai begins by reading Matthew 5: 27-30. “You have heard that it was said, do not commit adultery. But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to desire her has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away! It is better to lose one of your members than to have your body thrown into hell. If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away! It is better to lose one of your members than to have your whole body go into hell.”

Folks in Baram were well aware of these verses in Matthew five. Church pastors frequently recited it. Parents had often quoted it when they berated their teenage children over their coupling.

Jack Lawai starts by taking a Zippo from his pocket. It burns a cigarette in his mouth. “Know what that means? Means no Chinaman or Englishman or Spiderman can go one metre near my sister, don’t even hold a desire to do such thing, don’t even think of it, or I’ll give him hell.”

The reverend: Don’t make fun of the scripture. I have you know it was Christ Jesus who said that. So, clever boy, what Matthew five tells you?

Jack: I’m not sure if commands in Matthew five are to add to the Ten Commandments in Exodus 20 or to overwrite any part of the Commandments.

She knew this was only her imagination alright yet as the scenario picked its momentum she could not help but felt incredibly entertained by what she thought was debate of the century. Later in the evening, as she was resigning to sleep mode she played out the scenario again. This time she played the reverend; see how a devil could respond to his match.

REVEREND: And... ?

DEVIL: Jesus in that expression was referring to 7th Commandment where law on adultery was introduced during the time of Moses. Adultery means sex between a man and someone else's wife. Keywords: married woman, someone else’s wife. When we talk about adultery, we’re talking about the 7^th Commandment. When Jesus talked about adultery, he was talking about the 7^th Commandment. God will not alter God's own command. That’s ridiculous. Remember what Jesus said, he did not come to abolish the Law of Moses.

REVEREND: That's your sleazy interpretation, misguided by wisdom of man not wisdom of Heaven. But assuming we could give your interpretation some credibility, tell me how that interpretation can fit in the rest of the verses?

DEVIL: “But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to desire her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Ah, you see, the word adultery is mentioned again. The woman we’re talking about here is a housewife. Adultery is adultery, the same one in 7^th Commandment. Now, while you still remember adultery mean sex-with-someone-else's-wife read that verse again: 'whoever looks at someone else's wife to desire her has already committed adultery with that someone else's wife in his heart.' Bingo! Command in Matthew five in New Testament runs parallel with command in Exodus twenty in Old Testament.

REVEREND: And the tearing out of an eye and cutting off of a hand?

DEVIL: 'If your right hand causes you to have sex with someone else's wife, cut it off and throw it away!'

What if she’s not married or not someone else’s wife? Fanny wondered.

REVEREND: What if she’s not married, or not someone else’s wife?

DEVIL: As in premarital sex? The 7^th Commandment cannot apply. Law of Moses protects only housewives. Young women, unmarried, are at liberty to mate with man of her liking.

REVEREND: Fornication! But isn't premarital sex is also fornication and fornication is also adultery?

DEVIL: Well, if you drew a chart like that of course it’s almost believable that premarital sex is only another shape of adultery. But, NO, fornicators and adulterers are two different beasts, that as far as I know.

Was that all he had to say? What happened to his usual fiery all-flaming think-out-of-the-box speech? Cat caught his tongue? What was fornication if it was different from adultery?

DEVIL: Adultery involves married women. Fornication is broad ranging, is related with sex of the other kind such as beastility and having intercourse during woman's menstruation among them. The Church leaders, along the course of interpretation, must have redefined fornication so much so that premarital sex was included in the meaning of fornication. My argument is this. Greek translation identifies fornication as being illicit, or illegal, sexual activity. But that was Greek. Greek was not around when Law of Moses was made. If you'd read in Leviticus chapter twenty, the Bible does not make any mention of sex between two unmarried people as being illicit. In fact, in Leviticus we are given a list of every situation in which sex was prohibited. Such as we're not to have sex with married people, or with family members, or with animals; or sex between man and fellow man. The list from Prophet Moses is long, twenty-seven verses all in all. Premarital sex is not one of them.

REVEREND: I think you lose your argument here. It's been written in many Gospels in New Testament that fornicators will share the same fate with adulterers. So you're wrong. Fornication and adultery are two of the same thing.

“That’s because you read from the teachings of the Greeks in the New Testament! – Hebrews, Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Thessalonians, even Revelation. The Greeks introduced their words into the Bible, the same way the Englishmen had introduced many English names into the Bible until we don’t know which John or Mary we were talking about already. And be careful when Saint Paul introduced new things. Paul made enemy with prostitutes but Jesus Christ made allies with prostitutes. Read up in Book of Mark – try Mark 21. Yet this was the same Paul who said he imitated Christ. So I'm asking you, you want to listen to Paul or Jesus?!”

“Okay, I got you. I see where you come from. You don't have to raise your voice to me – Devil.”

“Because you’re acting like a Delilah; forever looking for ways to ensnare me.”

“Relax. Your hair is not that long, my scissors can wait. Keep on talking. Tell me why premarital sex is not for-ni-ca-tion.” She laughs at her own remark about the scissors as she touches his hair. She remembers it is the blackest of hair she has ever seen.

She ruffles the flock playfully with her hand. He let her at it. She has brought up that classic issue with him, the same one she had played out in her imagination three years ago, because in the recent years when her hormone seemed to have mind of its own the warning in Matthew five is getting louder in her head. Is there a second opinion?

It is probably 1-something in the morning, or 2-something. She does not know exactly. She doesn’t care. Bed can wait. She also will have plenty of time napping in the plane. She is not yet an air stewardess. She still can afford to play around with her time, can’t she? She is right where she wants to be tonight. This occasion will not come for the second time.

They are still in Bakam beach. After a little play in the sand earlier they have returned to this dry log. Here they sit side by side – but not exactly too close, after the accidental hug earlier. They continue with chatting. The night is no longer as bright as it was earlier. The moon has shifted to a corner in the sky behind them where it will disappear behind tall trees as the morning draws nearer. She hears his voice again, this time much clearer. The mineral water must have done its job.

Her fingers search for something in his left forearm.

“How many scars you have on you?” She has asked, concerned.

“Thirteen.”

“Oh boy.”

“You should see their scars.”

“Right.”

“I’ve got a scar here, too.” He has taken her hand and placed it on his chest. She knows what it is – the heartbreak.

“It’s definitely VEE!”

“Diana... Nordiana Yaakub.”

“Who’s that?” She pulls her hand off his body.

“A tall girl from Melaka, met her in U, she’s also my partner in Kayaking. We won many competitions.”

“Kay.”

“You want to hear the story?”

“No.”

“People in campus called us The Beauty and The Beast.”

“Continue with your story, please, the earlier story.”

“The scars or the Bible sex?”

She laughs, embarrassed. “But not too detail.”

“The Old Testament mentions fornication only once. Book of Ezekiel. But when they talk about fornication in this book, they’re actually talking about idolatry, about Israel praying to pagan gods. They’re not talking about sex.” He is laying down his claim very calmly with conviction, not a stutter in his speech. He clearly knows his stuff, like he always was many years ago, only better.

He continues. “But Saint Paul has used word fornication 32 times in the New Testament. I think I know what is happening here. Saint Paul is confused! He is confused as to what fornication is and what adultery is.”

Her mind is already somewhere else. Diana. That must be the girl he mentioned briefly in his letter about his kayak activities in the university. Mixed blood Malay-Portuguese. She had wanted to learn about her if he would write more.

“One case is in Book of 1 Corinthians. He made a list of sins. One of the sins is about a man having sexual relationship with his father’s wife. Saint Paul said that’s fornication. But I thought fornication meant praying to pagan gods.”

So that Diana has scarred him in the heart. She doesn’t quite like the way he has pronounced her name – Da-ya-na –; too confectionary.

“You see, when Saint Paul kept on saying fornication-fornication-fornication, people started to assume fornication IS adultery.”

She feels somewhat odd. She remembers she loved to egg him into telling her about his girlfriends, especially girls outside of Lung Dara. Is this jealousy she’s feeling now? That’s impossible. She has no feeling for this man. She’s not jealous. He’s nothing. She’s not jealous. No, she’s not jealous. She’s not. She’s not. She’s not...

“Hey, are you listening?” He asks.

“You believe in the Old Testament but hardly the New Testament.”

“I believe in God; one God not two, three Gods.”

“Do you pray?”

“I pray in my heart not in my mouth.”

“Are you a Christian?”

“I’m a good sinner.”

“You’re crazy monk.”

“Not as crazy as Saint Paul.”

“Why Saint Paul, not Paul?”

“He’s a Roman agent.”

“Roman Catholic?”

“But you’re protestant, don’t get offended.”

“Paul’s a good man.” She defends.

“Kissing is better.”

Da-ya-na huh? No, she’s not jealous. She’s not.

“But there’s one thing I don’t agree with the Old Testament.”

“What is that?” She thought he disagreed with everything in the Bible.

“The sex rules. We cannot use those rules today.”

“Why is that?”

“Say for example your boyfriend had sex with you and if found out—”

“Don’t use boyfriend in your example.”

“Very well, let’s try something else.” He clears his throat. “I had sex with you and if found out—”

She screeches, kicks at his leg. He goes on nevertheless. “I have two choices. I can choose to marry you. If I don’t want to marry you I’ve got to pay some amount of money to your family.”

She continues to punch at him in the shoulder.

“I can force you to do it with me” – he laughs, she beats him harder – “but if found out, I’ll have to pay your family 50 shekels and I must make you my wife for eternity. No divorce ever.”

She stops hitting him. “How much is 50 shekels?”

“I’m excited, have we done it already?”

“HEY!” She shrieks as she beats him in his back continuously. He ducks, but happily let her at it. After some time he straightens himself up, sort-out his shirt. She returns to propriety, still blushing. You see, Da-ya-na, I’m not jealous.

She remembers something. “That’s rape, isn’t it? You said there’s no rape in the Bible.”

“I know. Plenty of incidents. I know of at least two separate incidents in Old Testament. Both girls were named Tamar. But, the debate was done and over with. Re-mem-ber?”

“I can’t remember if we’ve closed it tightly or—”

“Listen, Fanny, the Bible cannot explain sex properly either. One part said some amount of fine is enough. Another part said a girl who has sex before marriage must be put to death. Look up in Book of Deuteronomy, chapter 22 if I’m not mistaken. Confusing? Yes. But that beside the point I want to make. The main thing here is don’t debate sex is right or wrong. Just do it, then we know.” She laughs; he realizes the howler. “I mean WE as in everyone. Anybody can talk about sex, but don’t try to interpret what the people in the Bible days had told us about sex.”

She was actually laughing at the just-do-it. But now he has mentioned the WE she has found that funny, too.

“We could get the interpretation all wrong. Thousands of years ago it’s different from today. Our girls today are sexier. What the people in the desert know about mini skirt?” He turns to her. He must be looking at her chest. “Today we have Fanny for one. She can wear tight jeans. Girls back then cannot wear jeans, because they have tails in their rear.” She could hear herself cracking up in the head.

“And guys today grew horns in their foreheads.” She offers her own funny line.

“No worries. Saint Paul has bigger horns.”

“Here we go again.”

Jack Lawai and Saint Paul, one says this, the other says that. They cannot agree on many things, if not everything. For as long as the Holy Bible exists the conflict between these two men persists for eternity. Aye-aye, sir, finish already. She has heard this many times over.

Jack in his letters often mentioned Paul. Between stories about his little adventures in the cities Paul popped up somewhere. He wrote only briefly about his Paul, a paragraph or two, a line or two every now and then, but the frequency of it is pretty annoying. It is as if Paul was actually a girl, his darling one. Coincidentally, Jack has another name for the Christians – Paulines. There was no chemistry between Jack and the Paulines, unfortunately. There was no chemistry between she and Jack as well. Their letters neglected personal stuff, much attention was given to thoughts or life as they see it. They did not even exchanged photos!

She is ready to believe Jack Lawai is a Christian, of the other kind. The kind that plays hard to get. The kind that pretends he’s no good. The kind she sometime likes, sometime she hates him. His knowledge of the Bible and Christianity is beyond her measuring. No telling how little he has not known about the religion. But the unpleasant attribute with this knowledge is it harangues Paulines more persistent than it praises Christians. He was struggling when he was praising. When he was criticising it was free flowing.

What is it he has hoped to accomplish? Nothing he can do already. Paul remains in the Holy Bible no matter what a Kayan monk has said about him. There was this time when Jack got to write at length about Paul. Silly her, she had asked him what about Paul he found so unforgivable. It usually takes between two and four months between her mailing and getting a reply from him. This time the reply took only two weeks.

If she was a man she would find it difficult to decide which between his fist and tongue can hurt the most. She figures it is his pen.

He wrote.

Jesus of Nazareth during his lifetime had not even smiled at Paul. Jesus did not even look at Paul aka Saul of Tarsus, not even once. Jesus did not even bother to wave at a Paul-nobody and tell him “Follow me let’s go hunt some wild boar.” Because Jesus was already dead long before Paul strut his stuff in Jerusalem. For a Paul-nobody to say Jesus the God has spoken to him is utter rubbish! Who is this Paul?

Paul's beginning was anti-Christ. Paul ganged up with an army of crooks to hunt down Christians in settlements around Dead Sea. One day while they were on the way to Damascus something happened out of a sudden. He fell off his mount, went blind during which magical moment God had visited him, so said Paul himself. He grew into a believer since that day. Abracadabra, he’s got his sight back. No more blind. Wow! But Paul was only an award-winning actor. He said this he said that, he claimed this and that, people believe him because his made-up stories sounded believable. His lies had carried him into the very heart of Christianity. He bluffed his way to the pinnacle of the cult. And today, Saint Paul is the Christ!

The Holy Bible is a book as thick as Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary. That book was made to highlight the importance of one hero – Jesus Christ. Sad, very sad, almost a quarter of the thick book was about Paul’s journey, Paul teachings, Paul’s assumptions, Paul’s interpretations of God’s Word, so much so that people today forgot it was not Paul who had died on the cross.

Paul glorifies himself; he likes to assume he’s in the right. He loves torture. He tortures himself. He stays away from wine and women. Damnit, the crazy monk wants to torture others as well. Firstly, he tells people to imitate him as he imitates Christ. Next, he tells the people to stay unmarried as he is unmarried. Boo! He speaks only for himself. Study Paul’s statements in the Bible, he’s in panic or something. There’s always that sense of urgency in his writing about the return of Christ. Since over 1000 years ago people have been saying the end is near. Paul must have thought the END was bound to happen in the next 14 days of his lifetime or earlier. So he goes around telling everyone not to do anything in meantime because the end is near. Don’t get married, don’t get divorce, don’t do this don’t do that, if you’re virgin don’t lose it until the Kingdom come, tomorrow or day after tomorrow.

Corinthians 7: 25-26: “... I have no command from the Lord, but I give a judgement as one who by the Lord’s mercy is trustworthy. Because of the present crisis, I think it is good for you to...”

Highlights: No command from God. He thinks. He gives judgement.

Rephrase: Paul gives a judgement based on what he thinks, not on what God thinks; in the absence of command from God, Paul’s judgement applies; the judgement is from Paul, not from God; Paul thinks he’s as good as God.

She is not exactly a religious person but she knows a thing or two about her faith; she prays everyday, too. The Bible speaks of benevolence, humility, empathy, faith and eternal salvation. That is all she needed to know. She will not complicate her faith. She must tell him again to keep his think-out-of-the-box to himself. Keep his Paulines with him.

“You just can’t quit, can you? Year in year out you’re still barking at the same old tree that will never go away. Will you ever stop?”

“Not until manipulators of truth have all left the Bible.” He says coolly.

Right, he had wanted to chase the Chinese out of Lung Dara. Now he wanted to chase the Paulines out of a book. He has not asked her if she had wanted them out. Typical of him, only his opinion matters. All other opinions are only beside the point. He should look in the mirror to see the likelihood of the Saint Paul he despises.

She tells him. “I thought you’re the manipulator of truth.”

“It has been written in the book of Hebrew do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so some unwittingly entertained angels.”

It has taken awhile before she finally thought she knew what the verse has inferred. She laughs, rolling eyes, pretending she knows he was merely attempting a harmless pun. “You’re no angel, okay Jack, and you’re no stranger to me.” She pokes a finger at his shoulder. “You’re the guy who memorises only certain text in the Bible, making a lot of fuss about it afterward.”

She quickly adds. “Be careful with blasphemy, though, you don’t want to cross that line.”

“How about this – I’m a wolf who tests people’s faith?” He snarls. “Each one of us has a job to do for Him. Maybe my job is WOLF, who knows. When this wolf is on a prowl the sheep in the field must stay close to the shepherd.” His hand reaches out to her left shoulder and drags her body to press against his body. “Don’t you stray into the wilderness, little sheep, or this wolf here will catch you.”

 “I don’t believe you’re suitable for the job.” She pushes the hand off her back.

“I couldn’t believe Samson is suitable for his job either.” He turns to face her. She does not enjoy this conversation already.

“Samson is rebellious, arrogant, and violent. But God has a job for Samson.” He asserts confidently. “But Samson likes prostitutes! But God has a job for Samson. Samson disobeys his parents. But God has a job for Samson. His job is not in the worship house where he can mingle with good people like peace ambassador Fanny. His job is to party with God’s enemies. His job is to make troubles with them.”

“So?”

“So maybe that’s my job, too – making troubles!”

She hates him now. Go to your Da-ya-na.

“Try this.” He says with a chuckle, “Because Heaven loves the natives so much they give Baram… ME!”

She could feel hair in her nape have stuck out like leeches.  “Jack!” She looks him squarely in his face. “Stop talking to me.”

It is quiet in a sudden in the seaside, except for the sound of exhausted waves making love to the sand. She has meant it.

He feels she is no longer there.

He tries to find her eyes. He finds only her cheek.

She will not talk to him.

So he talks to himself.

“Look at that girl now, Jack. Wow, she’s turned into poetry in motion. Hot! Did you see that? If only she’s not my cousin I would have known by now what to do with her.”  No reaction from that young woman. Not a sigh neither a woof. She has played dead.

He continues talking to himself. “But I’ll not tell her openly how well she looks tonight. She’ll get too proud, you know what I mean. Well, she’s been trying hard the whole evening to let me know she’s no longer that little girl I’d dropped off anywhere whenever I saw other girls on the road. Ouch, did I do that to her? She says she hated it when I did that to her. So I tell her I’m very sorry. She’s looking messy back then, wet nose, pony tail and whatnot. I didn’t like her fashion, too, dresses in dull colour. She’s a redneck!”

He tries again. Again, she cast her look elsewhere.

“So I tell her that’s why I cannot take her to my party that night. Oh babe we had lots of fun that night at home. Parents gone, we danced till morning, La Bamba, Twist and Shout, oh those rock and roll days. I tell her again I’m sorry she had missed the good time. She says that’s alright Jack she understand.”

She remains indifference.

“I tell her but there’s another reason why she’s not invited to my party that night. She says, oh really? She asks was it because she didn’t have a partner? I tell her no it wasn’t because of that. Well, maybe that’s part of the reasons but I didn’t really pay attention to it.”

She remains unconcern.

“She asks what the main reason is. I tell her I’m not sure if I should tell her. She says just tell her please. I tell her on condition she’ll not be mad at me afterward. She says it depends. I tell her in that case I will not tell her. She says okay she promise she’ll not be mad. Then slowly I give it to her. I tell her it was because she’s only 14 at that time. It’s not nice for her if people see girl her age hanging out with guys at night when she should have been home with her mother. Then she says oh okay maybe another time after she’s—.”

“But Lillian was also 14!” She quits her silent treatment. She has to.

She is in full alert now. Her face and body have turned to confront him. She demands answers. She demands a justification over a let-down she can hardly put behind. The friends, especially the ever gabby Lillian, were talking excitedly about the party in the morning. She felt left out.

“She can follow you guys but I cannot?!”

“I couldn’t even remember she was there.”

“Bullshit, Jack, you picked her up from home.”

“I didn’t know she was 14.”

“You never asked for her age, that’s why!”

“But she looked 16 to me.”

“But she’s smaller in size than I was!”

“I know. But only a little smaller.”

“That don’t the change the fact I was bigger than her.”

“Well. Yeah. But at least she has some boobs.”

“But did you check my boobs?!”

He laughs. But it is muted. But movement in his shoulders cannot lie.

As the quivering continues he grips at his belt to hold him still. His mouth struggles to remain shut as his face tries to stay neutral. After some time he is still in that struggle. Then he drops to his side, lying on his back with his bended arms covering his entire face. His whole body is now shaking. A voice calls out his name.

As he removes his hands from his head, he found Fanny’s angry face materialising above him, looking down at him with one hand raised as if to mean she will squash his head with it.

 “Jack. Stop. It.”

He obliges. The shuddering has ceased.

Slowly he returns to a sitting position on the dry log.

She asks innocently. “What was so funny?”

“Nothing.” As soon as he has uttered that he starts again.

* * *

In 1996, Reverend David Lawai and his entourage flew to Kuching to meet president of Sarawak New Action Party. His supporters had lobbied in his favour for nomination of candidate for Telang Usan constituency. If the man helming the SNAP could agree with their recommendation, David Lawai would be fielded in the next Sarawak General Election which many a political pundit had expected to materialise in next three months if not early next year. This election, unlike the previous elections, could prove an acid test for SNAP in Baram where it claimed two State constituencies. The political pundits expected SNAP to lose in Telang Usan and Meludi.

They were of the opinion the incumbent YB in the constituency had a waning popularity among the Baram people in recent years, particularly among the Kayan and Kenyah folks in the Telang Usan part of Baram. Traditionally, Telang Usan was SNAP’s stronghold; the incumbent YB was with SNAP since 1987. His predecessor was also a SNAP. It had been SNAP all the way right from the formation of Malaysia in 1963.

Sarawak New Action Party had a comical start. It was created in pre-independence days by a group of well-educated people who opposed and made a mockery of Sarawak’s desire for a merger with Sabah, Malaya and Singapore in Federation of Malaysia. SNAP then was called Sarawak Nevermind Alo-Alo Party. After Independence, SNAP was invited into Bulatan Nasional, a coalition of parties that formed the Malaysia government. SNAP had accepted the offer, hence the name change. SNAP turned out to be an influential political vehicle over the years. It had under its belt 16 State Constituencies and four Parliamentary Constituencies. At parliament level, Telang Usan and Meludi were two states seats under Baram ambit, which was also SNAP’s own. When a large number of political leaders collaborated to unseat the Melanau chief minister in 1987, through process of vote of no confident, SNAP had jumped to his rescue.

But over the years, the people in Baram saw red in the government’s insensitiveness. Already they had been made to endure the social and environmental effects brought about by logging activities in their area; they now faced another threat as the so-called politics of development was moving closer to their doorsteps. They could benefit economically from the developments...  if only they were willing to part with their ancestral land. They were not asked to give their land over to the government; they were told to forfeit all claims over the land or face legal actions. Unless they could produce some papers to verify their claims all idle land in Sarawak belonged to the Sarawak government. But ownership over ancestral land didn’t come with paper!

The political awareness of the indigenous people in Baram had heightened in the recent years. When they felt their YB was not doing his job in the interest of the people, their sentiment had shifted to the other guy. That other guy in this case was no lightweight. Harrison Jau had been an environmentalist for all his career years. Attached with an international organisation overseas they struggled to fight for the rights of indigenous natives in their own land against invasion from tractors, greed and unscrupulous authority. Harrison had all the facts and figures at the back of his hand as he pointed it out to the people that Baram was doomed to wasteland if the balance between development and environment was left to the whims and fancies of the ambitious few.

Harrison Jau, a Kayan from Upper Baram, would not represent any political party in the forthcoming State Election; he would stand as independent candidate. SNAP had tried to buy him over. He had declined before they could even finish the sentence.

SNAP could lose the Telang Usan seat to a Harrison. Their guy who was sitting on his laurels in Telang Usan would not stand a chance against Harrison. Hence the gambit – why not inject a new sensation into SNAP’s chance of winning. Drop the old guy, bring a new guy in.

Why can’t I keep the old guy, the SNAP president had asked them. He laid out another strategy: The old guy contests under SNAP ticket while the new guy contests as another independent candidate beside Harrison the forest guy. It’s a three-corner fight. Split votes. SNAP loyal supporters will continue to vote in favour of SNAP, no matter what. The new guy, if he’s any good, would rob the forest guy of votes that would have otherwise given him the victory over SNAP guy.

What if the new guy instead wins the election?

Then we can drop the SNAP guy, take the new guy in.

What if the new guy refuses?

It goes to show you’re not doing your job for me.

* * *

“Give it up, okay, Jack. You’re cute. Without all this nonsense you're even cuter. Go to church often. Read the Bible often. We can always find answers there.” She says at the same time feeling like pulling the man’s ear.

“The reading of the Bible alone cannot answer questions in life just as the not-reading-the-Bible is also not the only cause of the question.”

“Your problem is you’re not looking for answers.”

“Oh yea? Find me a ‘Typewriter’ in the Bible.”

“Go to church then. Open your heart so the Holy Spirit can fill you, and make you see what you’ve been yearning for. That’s how it works for me, always. I’m sure God will be very pleased if you can do that. I’ll be very pleased, too.”

“I don’t think they will like it when I start my argument.”

“So don’t start it.”

“What if I have questions?”

“Jack, for Christ’s sake! I cannot ask you to grow up. Grow backward then. Grow to become people your age. Go to church, do like everyone else. Sing when they sing, pray when they bow their head to pray, listen to the pastor, don’t ask questions. Go straight home afterward. I don’t know how else to advice you other than that. Can you do that please?” Now she really feels like pulling his ear. 

She continues, “You’re making things very complicated for yourself, do you know that? Yet you don’t like thinking about it, yet you keep doing it, yet you don’t like it, yet you keep doing it to yourself. There’s nothing to argue about already when you’re willing to accept truth in God’s word. All that you have debated have been well debated over the years, Jack. Nothing will change the fact that the word in the Bible is the Word of God.”

He is not giving up. “God’s words written by men or men put words in God's mouth.”

She sighs, shakes her head in disbelieve.

“One question, Fanny, a very simple one: Why Jesus of Nazareth didn’t write his own journal? Because he cannot write, he’s only a carpenter, thank you.”

“He's also a great architect. He builds Bridge to Heaven.”

“Clever metaphor, but that beside the point I want to make. Sadly, Jesus didn’t write books of his own. He can talk he can heal people of their sickness. He can walk on water but he cannot write?”

“Or would you rather he can write but cannot walk on water?”

“Clever, that’s very clever, but that beside the point I want to make. Jesus cannot write. His followers did the writing for Him. So over the years, 100 years, 200 years, 600 years after Jesus, the writings about Him had travelled from one hand to the next. Somewhere along the course of time a smart fellow says hey why not add something here—”

“No one can add to or remove anything from the Holy Book.”

“Anyone can.” He announces.

“You can if you like, and lose your place in Heaven.”

“Says disciple John from Patmos Island huh? But John was only referring to his own book, Book of Revelation that is, not the entire contents in what is known today as Holy Bible.”

She is surprised. “Can you prove that? But that beside the point you want to make, right?”

“Simple common sense, very simple really. But you must think out of the Pauline box before you can see the answer—”

“Oh, please, just bring it on.”

“You see, during the time when John wrote Book of Revelation the Bible hasn’t come into existence. Remember, the Bible is made of many books by many authors. It’s like school magazines taken from many schools and bundled together in one thick folder. On the cover of the folder they write in bold HOLY SCHOOL. Similar compilation works were made for the Bible. 66 books made it in the end. That was many years after these book authors have died and gone to Heaven. I’m sure John of Patmos was surprised to learn from the angels that his Book of Revelation was the last book in what is known today as Holy Bible. Yes, we cannot add to or remove anything from Book of Revelation. John had issued the warning in Chapter twenty-two.”

“What about the other Books? Don’t they have similar warning?”

“Yes, we have several other books with warning not to add to or to remove. But, wait, hold your horses. Before you jump to conclusion like you always do—”

“Did I? Jump to conclusion, always? I thought it’s you who always do that.”

“Yes, you do, I do it as well; but that beside the point I want to make. Before you jump the gun like you always do, remember another thing about the warning found in several books in the Holy Bible: Those warnings are specific for that chapter in that particular context of thing in that particular book for that particular people. Do you follow or should I repeat it?”

He has asked but does not wait for the answer. “It’s like different school magazines have different warnings. It's not a blanket warning for the entire Bible from page one to page six-hundred. So, the warning in Book of Revelation cannot be the blanket warning for the Holy Bible. The Bible is only a FOLDER containing many books. Yet you're not aware of this. What kind of a Christian are you?”

“Not your kind. I look for God in the Bible, you look for something else.”

“That's why you're still looking, because some men had misplaced the god.”

“Jack, what the—”

“Bible is man-made, Fanny, please agree with me on this one. It's not God, not angels, who invented the Bible. It’s only a catalogue of books for Christian religion ever since the religion was created in the 1^st Century. The Christians and the Muslims are also called People of the Book. The Holy Bible we’re reading today is work of translation from Greek manuscripts found in the 4^th Century. Make a mental note – Greek manuscripts.” He emphasizes with a finger poking at her head. She pushes the hand away irately. No man can poke at her head. No doubt he used to do that to her six years ago in Lung Dara, but he must know she is not his little Fanny any longer!

The rude man continues, “There’re many other books written around the time of Jesus, but they’re not entered into the Biblical canon, or the folder. So who had decided which book must go in? The Church Fathers, church leaders, mostly Greeks, if not all of them were Greeks. They’ve all the authority in the world to produce the Bible. Funny thing is, books about Saint Paul can be found nearly everywhere in the New Testament. Saint Paul is a Jew by birth. He is privileged with Roman citizenship, given Roman protection, subject only to Roman rules, he can be charged only in Roman courthouse. Your favourite Saint Paul answers only to Roman Caesar!”

“I know where this will lead. Have we not heard it many times over? This starts to bore me, Jack Lejau Lawai. Now, if you have no more new information to tell might as well we just go home.”

“What I'm trying to tell you is you’d better be careful about what you said is Word of God. You could be talking about words of Roman crooks.”

“Okay, that's it! You're gone!” She heads for the car. She hears the man behind her is saying something.

“Greek manuscripts! Don't you want to know how we can get to read the Holy Bible today in English? Yea, walk away. Walk away like a Christian Penan who could not even spell Christ.”

Now that’s very insulting. She stops in her track, wondering if she should claw at him or spit at him. That man is seriously a pain in the arse. Her anger is already overflowing. She could hear his voice is moving towards her.

“Courtesy of William Tyndale. Englishman. He began the translation works Greek-to-English in the 16th Century. Oh, the early Church wanted his head for that. Thanks to him, today we can read the Bible in English.” He is now standing in front of her. But she refuses to look at him. She is not looking down or looking up, neither is she looking sideway. She simply closed her eyes tightly. She hears him again.

“But do you know how your Church had rewarded Tyndale? You charged him for heresy, you sent him to jail, you tortured him, you condemned him and then you killed him. You and all the Paulines killed a good man – God's man!”

At that instance she opens her eyes wide. She is on the brink of shedding tears, like a child who wanted so bad to say something back to her parents but could not find the right word to scream out at them. He continues to torture her.

“Word of God say you? Word of god my feet! High chance the Holy Bible have suffered from works of editing and translation in the hand of many holy writers and unholy writers after them, from 4^th Century through 16^th Century, that’s one thousand and two hundreds years between starting point to finish point, translated several times from Hebrew to Greek to English, now English to Bahasa Indonesia. You tell me,” he actually brings his face closer to her face, “can you still believe the man-made Bible is the Word of God? Huh, can you answer that? What if some perverts had planted something in there?”

“Something like what?!”

“Something for the glory of Holy Roman Empire instead. For all you know that god you worship today is actually Zeus!”

That’s it, Jack has asked for it. With all her might she swings at him. The palm of her right hand has landed precisely on a target she has intended, his left cheek; across his face it travels before it brushes against his mouth on its exit dragging along with it some moisture and saliva. She knows she is satisfied after doing that to him.

She knows it was a hard one because she can feel she is in pain. Her hand is hurting and it has gone numb. But she will not give him the satisfaction of knowing. That was her first. She has not hit a man before. God forbids, never again she must do that. She thought the man’s cocky head would just fall off.

She makes for the car. She pushes him aside with her left hand, the one hand not hurting, but he has stood there like a tree. So, she shoulders him out of the way. That is the second time she has walked out on him today, maybe third time. She has left him some ten metres behind when out of a sudden she has stopped in her stride. Some urge.

She turns around and walks all the way back towards the man. He is still standing like a tree on the same spot where she has nearly bruised his cheek, or in other word, where she nearly broke her hand while trying to bruise his cheek.

“I'm not as smart as you in this thing, okay Jack. I feel very stupid in front of you.” She has said that without looking directly at him. “I can only hope you’ll remember this one last thing I'm telling you before I go. You're so far lost in your thinking, your belief, your logics, your box! You don’t need all those. You need only pray. Pray and you will find Him.”

As quickly as she has arrived she turns around and makes it in the direction of the car again. After a few steps, she stops. Another urge.

She turns to say what she thought would be her parting speech. “Please, if you can tell me to grow out of the Christian box I guess I can also say the same to you – think out of your box and see how wrong you’ve been really about what’s in your box. Your box is so sophisticated, so unnecessary, so, so... so... stupid. Grow out of it!”

She resumes her journey. After a few steps, she stops. “There’s no heaven in your box, okay Jack! You can only find questions in there... questions and many more questions. If you read the Word for the sake of reading it like a lawyer would read a criminal record you’ll see only arguments in there. Stop. Arguing. The. Truth!”

“The Bible is a serious book, Fanny, concerning life after death. It’s our last hope to eternal life in Heaven. All I'm asking you to do is take a second look at the Book. Take out the false teachings. Keep the true ones because—”

“Holy Bible is not only about teachings. It’s also about rules and laws, the Ten Commandments. These rules and laws are placed there so we can be a better person. They’re necessary. We have needs for a good living, peaceful living, and also fear for our Creator. We need to feel that. Enough already don’t argue that.”

“Well, I have no problem with the teachings okay, until some teachers come along and forced new teachings upon us, teachings that are completely strange to even Jesus. How do you like that?” He is now standing beside her. His face is still in good condition. The hard slap was unable to leave a dent.

“It's because you keep looking for excuses to deny the rules and laws. Because you want to be free and do whatever it is you want. Yeah, we've been warned, that part of the reason why people criticize religion and the Bible is because they want to be free from the rules and laws.”

“Now, that’s the irony! How do you explain the so-called righteous Christians who are acting like some outlaws all the time? They are free to do whatever they wish. They are free to condemn sinners, free to identify a witch and burn her at stake without trial, free to demand money from the poor, saying it's for God, free to refrain the youth from listening to pop music, saying it’s Satanic, free to start Holy War, saying it’s to protect God in Jerusalem, free to interpret holy verses in the Bible, free to dictate our behaviour, free to defy all logics proven by science. If this is what the bad Christians do I might as well be a good sinner.”

She is stunned. She shakes her head repeatedly, about ready to take flight. One more word from him she will not regret not-speaking with him for the remaining of her lifetime.

“I must say you’re very Anti-Christ.  I can feel it in all things you just said!”

“Hold your tongue, lady! Heaven cannot agree with you there, only the Church can agree with you. Which church you belong with now – SIB? Or you’ve dumped SIB Church for Methodist Church because your boyfriend is a Methodist?

“You’re assuming again! I don’t have a Methodist boyfriend, okay.”

“Anglican boyfriend?”

“Look, Jack! It doesn’t matter which church you go to. When Jesus comes for the second time He will not ask which church you’re from.”

“Very good! Then who needs a church, right, right, right?! You said it yourself God doesn’t need a church. Only men need many churches. Then we heard about Catholic Christians killing the Protestant Christians, and the Mormons wiping out Christian pilgrims in America. Can't you see the plain truth here, Fanny? We actually want the same thing. That is to send our prayers straight to God just as how He must have wanted it, without the prayer having to transit elsewhere before it gets to Him. Keyword: Straight to God. So forget the Church, the Virgin Mary, the Pope, and the Trinity crap.”

“Oh. My. God! How dare you insulting the Trinity.”

“But that’s beside the point I have made.”

“When you said but that beside the point, you mean to say you’ve made a mistake about it, right?”

“Have it your way.”

“I seriously have no problems understanding the Bible and believing in the New Testament, Jack Lejau Lawai, because I don’t read it out of context. Jesus Christ has said that the cause of spiritual misunderstanding is the lack of scriptural knowledge and belief in God.”

“You’re only repeating some rhetoric given by some pastor. Don’t!”

“You lack many in this area. The Bible is the only source of spiritual truth for all mankind. Although most people will not accept that statement – it is the truth!”

“Behold the scientific truth. The day when NASA confirms the existence of UFO is the day when Christianity will suffer.”

“Your science cannot explain Heaven. Only the Bible can give real answer about Heaven. The Bible also gives answers to many questions in life.”

“Correct, you’re absolutely hundred per cent left right top to bottom correct! Because only mathematics gives answer to algebra, Physics to law of gravity, Biology to anatomy. The Bible gives riddles and parables. The Church interprets these parables. What if they had interpreted it wrongly? They’ve predicted the end of the world many times, each time they’ve been proven wrong. Boo!”

“The Bible challenges our thinking and quashes our cherished beliefs.”

“Stop quoting rhetoric from the church. You want rhetoric I can give you one – the Bible challenges me and I answer.”

“But you’re not material to truth. You turn away from truth. When we want truthful answers to spiritual questions we must turn to the Bible, not to what men think. Not to you, especially not to you, Jack!”

He studies her body language. It is confirmed her resolve is unyielding. Sweet words could no longer bribe such determination. After tonight, her impression of him will probably see to its turning point. This young lady is coming of age. She emits many signs she is now an independent soul of her own without further need to walk in someone else’s shadow. She is the new kid in town. On her own she can carry the town to greater height. And she knew it. The memory of Jack Lawai will fade to oblivion, he is sure of that. Why has she agreed to meet him tonight is probably because she has only wanted to make sure she has indeed outshone everyone who matters to her past. She is collecting her trophies. He is probably the last one in her list. He shall not disappoint her.

“Give me a moment. Let me think of some way to respond to that. This is a tough one.”

She stands with her stiff hands by her waists, waiting, daring him to give her a good answer, if he can find any. She can feel he’s struggling. Now he’s buying himself some time. Typical of him when he knew he is in a tight spot.

She sees he slips a cigarette between his lips, takes out a brass-based lighter from his jeans pocket. He steps closer to her, close enough she can slap his face again if that’s what he has come for. Without her anticipating it she has felt something is poking at her thigh.

It has started with a sharp sound Ting from something metallic. As it echoes, she looks down to see what that was. All in quick succession, he drags the flint wheel along her jeans until the burner catch the sparks that by the time she pulls away from him the Zippo has done its job.

When he brings the lighter up to his face the burner is already burning brightly in his right hand. The flame stood upright as his left hand is shielding it against wind blow. He lights up a Dunhill, inhales a good amount of smoke before he blows it gently to her surprised face. But she denies him the satisfaction of knowing she is intimidated by the clouds of smoke.

Light from the Zippo fire is showing it very clearly he is smiling. No, he is actually grinning – devilish grin. The grin has alerted her. She hated it when he did that. It was usually a prelude to a mischief. The Zippo’s lid snaps to a close. The fire has gone out. With light gone, her sight is familiarizing with the new condition in the night when she hears a whisper.

“We turn to the Bible alright and there we found these answers.”

He slowly steps back. “In Book of Samuel, it has been written: And the Lord sent you on a journey and said, go and put the curse on those sinners, the Amalekites, fighting against them till everyone is dead.”

He blows another smoke. “That EVERYONE includes women and children and babies. That's genocide, war crime, don't you think? In the Book of Genesis it has been written: And they made their father drink wine that night, and the elder went in, and lay with her father.”

He looks away as he speaks. “That’s incest, don’t you think?”

Her eyes blink several times. He’s done it again!

He continues. “I’m not saying God was wrong in issuing that command. God can never go wrong. He must have had good reasons for it. And the women must have had good reasons for it as well. But that beside the point I want to make. I don’t have problems with those instances.”

He stands upright, confronting her as if he is ready for a fight. “But I have problem with you, Fanny.”

She blinks again.

He blows the smoke. “Many times you told me we must look for answer in the Bible each time we have questions. I’m telling you now be careful with how you would interpret answer from the Bible. You don't want to become a mass murderer.”

He moves closer to her until his mouth nearly touches her ear. “And you don't want to become pregnant by your own father.”

That having said he figures he has dropped a bomb. His opposition would not recover from that. Game over. He turns around and starts making a lazy stroll towards his car not too far away. He is leaving the girl behind to mend her conscience, and broken ego. He will wait for her in the car; they will go home and forget the drama tonight. But he expects her to remember one crucial thing about him by now – he’s still the new kid in town.

He is mistaken.

That young woman still has something to show.

He hears her now.

“We're not stupid. We have good brain, haven’t we? We’ve been given wisdom to do what is right and just. For goodness sake use it!”

He stops in his track.

He’s been waiting for this.

“Gotcha! You’ve just answered your own question, Fanny.  At the end of the day it goes back to us to make the call, to decide what is right and wrong. Why bother looking for the answer elsewhere?”

For a long moment the young woman is dumbfounded. She watches him go as she stands there haplessly watching him in his smugly lazy stride, swaggering a little, dancing a little, jumping about a little, at one point she thought she saw him throwing a fist in the air. Again, she is now like a child who wanted so bad to say something back to her parents but could not find the right word to scream out at them.

Her lips have tightened, they move yet mute.

Then she gives chase.

She intends to knock him down.

She screeches, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

* * *

David Lawai finally decided SNAP was not for him.

His friends, also his supporters, had returned to their hotel from a meeting with their president in the city. Enthusiastically, they conveyed to him the president’s wish of him. They said he had a great role to play for SNAP during the impending State Election. His part in the contest would bolster SNAP’s chances of winning and subsequently retaining Telang Usan seat against a phenomenal Harrison Jau... and he will be rewarded handsomely.

David Lawai asked if he had been picked to contest under SNAP ticket. The friends instead said the president of SNAP would like to see him in private, IF he would agree to their arrangement.

He asked again the same question. Again, he was given answers for questions he had not asked. Eventually, they let him know the truth. However, they did not go into detail with regard to the arrangement. They said the president would be the right man to talk about that with him. But already David Lawai picked up the first sign of trouble. In the crafty mind of the president he was only the backup guy. It’s a downright humiliation.

He knew what kind of arrangement they were talking about. He recognized his potential. He could spoil it for Harrison. He knew a three-corner fight will definitely go in favour of SNAP. But he also knew he’s not just a wild card, not a backup guy, never a fall guy. He had wanted to save SNAP the political party in Telang Usan, not the SNAP old guy. The old guy can fall, he had himself to blame. But SNAP must win and stay in Telang Usan, he loved SNAP.

His distant cousin was the first SNAP YB in Telang Usan. He was also somewhat related with the incumbent YB. In fact, each time during elections he had spoken in favour of SNAP, in his personal capacity as electorate, of course, not as Christian missionary. The YB’s team had occasionally taken him with them during visits to villages in Baram valleys, particularly in months prior to the expected election. In the campaigning week he moved around actively. He knew his presence among them had somehow added some values to the popularity of the SNAP. He was well aware the folks were looking at his capacity as a renowned Christian missionary not only as a vocal electorate. He had been with SNAP all along. He had a sentimental value with SNAP. Funny, how the president did not even recognise him.

He was thinking. They have wanted me to stand as independent candidate instead. No, thank you, that’s not how I work.

He knew himself well. He knew his work ethic. For him to function competitively he needed to believe he’s only a servant and that he’s rendering his service to a bigger force of change. He needed to have a political party to serve, the same way he had needed Christian religion to serve. He was only an instrument. He must have a purpose. The cause of the struggle must be made clear right from the start.

He was thinking. If I have to stand as an independent candidate might as well I fight for my own independent cause and that cause is to serve God. I cannot risk losing my well-paying job in the Christian organisation over something as tentatively as SNAP’s gambit. I’ll only be a used soap after I delivered my job lubricating SNAP’s uphill journey to victory, wait another five years before I can stand a chance to contest under SNAP ticket, another big uncertainty. I’m not a gambler after all. I certainly can’t see myself as a cannon fodder. I’m a proud man.

I also have to consider another unfavourable factor: Jack Lawai.

What about Jack Lawai?

* * *

.