The Oilfield Labourers
translated by Siti Badriyah biti Haji Md Yusuf
Kampong Umbi was on fire. Forty houses were burnt down. Finally everything came under control. The fire trucks and the rescue teamhad left. Only a number of distraught old mothers remained, weeping and wishing they were dead. An old man, who had been critically ill, had also been found burnt to death in his home. Two conflagrations of fire were seen about a hundred and forty-two yards fromthe burnt houses.
At nightfall the area became still. The heat from the fire could still be felt and it made the stomach churned. Yazid saw puffs of tiny smoke dancing in the haze. He trembled. He visualised houses being destroyed; nothing was left untouched by the flames. He raised his face and stared far ahead and saw sparks of fire flickering as if they were suspended in the darkness of the night. Then he caught a glimpse of his ownshadow in the mist but it was slowly disintegrating. It was no longer his shadow. So whose was it? The shadow doubled, and at times appeared to be swaying left and right. “Are you searching for the stumps of your house Yazid?” Adam asked. “I am searching for the stumps of all houses,” he replied. Covered with coal dust his naked feet had turned black. He wanted to feel the heat from the fire that had razed his village to the ground. He wanted his skin to be burned by that same fire that had destroyed his village. He was cursing the fate of his village but he was full of praise for the happiness and peace that he had experienced living there. “Maybe you should just leave this place,” Adam suggested. “Find a new place to build your home.” Their shadows moved. Rings of fire far and near were blown by the wind. It was a moonless night, with thick clouds covering the sky. “How was the old man?” Yazid asked. “Dead.” “When will he be buried?” “Tomorrow.” “We should help dig his grave.” “Sure,” Adam replied. “At the very least I have the right to put out the fire that had destroyed my house.” “Where are you sleeping tonight?” Adam asked “I don’t know.” “You can stay at my place.” “Anywhere will do.” “Let’s go home. You need to take a shower and remove all those worries.”
In the bedroom, he laid sprawled on his front, with his face pushed under the pillow. Outside, he could hear Adam telling a friend about the fire. Another story unfolded and they laughed hysterically. Their voices echoed through the silence of the night. Yazid covered one ear, then the other. In his imagination, he saw fire smoulderingwildly outside, burning every grass and twig on the beach and rising to the treetop. The large sparks of fire on the Casuarina tree danced in the rhythm of the wind blowingfrom the South China Sea. The old man would be buried on that beach the next day. He remembered the old man very well. He was a cock fighter with a peculiar style when facing a new contender. His movements were agile and his stamina seemed to increase the minute he entered the ring. His preoccupation with cock fighting took away all thoughts of death. He was only upset when his gamecock fluttered in defeat. The vision and memory of the fire were slowly disappearing from his mind. What he sawthen was the dead body of the old man, being washed. And in the distance he could see little flames floating on the South China Sea, the tall derrick and, from its top, a fallingobject. His heart stopped when the object hit the ground. The vibration caused by a passing truck lulled him to sleep. That night he dreamt of fighting the fire that had engulfed five villages.
He was out early the following day in the mist of the morning dew. He headed straight for the graveyard. Walking on sand and pebbles, he walked across the wet grass and then turned right to avoid them. He crossed the bridge and looked down. The water was black due to the oil spill. In between puddles of oil, he saw his own reflection, his head white, covered with dew. Far across the sea, the sun was shining radiantly while the lights slowly dimmed. He passed through an alley. He observed the wreckage. There were traces of rain fromthe day before, which had snuffed out the fire and smoke. Bits of white dusts could be seenamong the black columns which still stood erect. Amidst the haze, black stumps could be seen still rooted to the earth. His steps were slow but he was no longer looking around. He saw some men arriving with their hoes and scoops. The sandy soil made it easy for them to dig. He continued walking slowly and directed his gaze straight ahead. At times his eyes glimpsed at the pebbles he was about to step on. And he was very careful with his steps. Climbing with a pair of wet shoes could be disastrous. He could see another derrick at the end of the road. A new oilfield had been discovered there. He felt tired. He could feel the cool sea breeze on his body. He had been troubled since morning. And that feeling got worse when all eyes fell on him. Their stares were taunting. Havingnothing to say, he proceeded to climb the derrick. When his friends, who were on top looked down, the glaring sunlight that was reflected from their metal helmets hurt his eyes.
“You look very high-spirited today, Yazid!” exclaimed Jamal from the top. The glaring light that bounced of Yazid’s helmet hit his eyes. Jamal quickly shifted his glanceto the greenery nearby. Ignoring them, he climbed up further to where they were. Now his vision was dazzled by the light from the sea and by the whiteness of the foams on the sand. He could no longer hear the splashing waves hitting the beach. He looked up. Jamal, Ghani and Ibrahim were observing him. “Stop right there!” shouted Ghani, as he flung a coil of wire to Jamal. Yazid secured his safety buckle and wiped off his sweat, the shadowof the derrick’s poles emblazoned across his chest. Yazid looked at his friends. Their faces were dark red. He could even see beads of perspiration on the wrinkles beneath their helmets. “Catch,” said Jamal. Yazid grabbed the wire. A black bag of tools was hung onto the baluster before him. He tied the bag with the wire. Jamal pulled the wire slowly. That morning, the workers were only preparing the equipment which would be assembled later in the evening. They climbed down at almost eleven. The sky was cloudy by then. The labourers rested, enveloped by thin shadows, their bodies wet, from the sea vapour. “Jamal,” asked Yazid, “did you see the condition of the old man when he was dying last night?” “Yes. Why? I even carried him.” “How was he?” “His clothes were completely burnt. His skin, crinkled and black. His flesh was red and moist. He was screaming hysterically.” “Do many people die that way?” “Not many.” Jamal was only forty-nine years old. “Because such terrible fires seldom occur.” “Easy, wasn’t it?” “What do you mean?” “Death without having to suffer long illness.” “Perhaps his pain was far greater than that suffered by those having a normal illness,” Jamal suggested. “Was he unconscious yesterday?” “He lost consciousness after screaming hysterically. After that he died.” “Did he recall what he was leaving behind?” asked Yazid.
“What did he leave behind?” Jamal asked. “Whatever that he might have left behind.” “I doubt. All his belongings were destroyed, all his chickens died.” “Do you want to die that way?” “Me! Me? Oh please dear God, give me a more peaceful death.” “Peaceful? How?” “From a mild illness perhaps.” “But people rarely die from a mild illness.” “A more or less fatal illness,” Jamal replied. 42 He stared at the sea, then at the sparks of fire. In daily life he hesitates to commend bravery but he has always believed in diligence and hard work. He then looked up at the white clouds until his eyes hurt. “Dad was not ill when he died. He committed suicide by taking poison,” Yazid revealed. “Everyone dies differently.” “You are a weird person.” “Everyone has the right to choose on how he wants to die.” “Why do you want to talk about death?” “Because death is necessary,” Yazid replied, “to sever something.” He avoided looking at Jamal’s face. His friend looked older than him. There were tender moments during their friendship when Yazid was comfortable regarding himas a father. The veins on Jamal’s forehead would protrude when he spoke loudly or whenever he opened his mouth wide. Yazid shifted his eyes to look at the sky, then to the top of the derrick and to its base. The derrick’s shadow zigzagged on the patches of dried, yellowish grass and stretched out before them. They had finished their lunch. Yazid looked at the horizon that split the sea and the sky. In his heart, he still could not understand why Jamal was so scared to face death. “Do you know Yazid?” Yazid was startled and turned his body towards Jamal. “Know what?”
“How much longer do you think we will be working here, as derrick climbers?” “As long as there is oil.” “Do you know that there are already signs of it depleting?” “I do,” Yazid answered. He had long known that. “Once this derrick is ready, we will have to erect another one,” said Jamal. “Who said so?” “William.” “Where?” “Offshore, at aluh tiga” Jamal replied. This particular labourer was always quick to know about the company’s plans and strategies. He had very acute senses. “It seems that we have more oil now.” “How do you know?” Yazid asked. “There, we are building a new derrick offshore.” “Done with onshore drilling, now they are exploring offshore,” Yazid commented. “It is amazing that oil can also be extracted from the sea.” “Oil originated from the sea millions of years ago.” “We are so blessed.” “The oil in Seria is almost depleted. Just be prepared.” The oilfield labourers began climbing the derrick. The higher they went the slower they got. Gradually the labourers appeared smaller and blacker. From above, all Yazid could see were black and grey roofs among the white tanks. His eyes hurt fromthe piercing glare of the sun. The black river flowed to the sea. Oil pipelines crawled overlapping each other everywhere. Noise could be heard from the derrick base. William stood with arms akimbo. Through a pair of dark glasses he watched the noisy labourers. Amidst the noise, something crashed into the balusters. A body lay sprawled across the metal rods. The labourers were frantic. They almost could not recognise their friend’s face. His brain was shattered into pieces. Minutes later his eyes shut and he turned stiff.
Borneo's Green Heart
A gem of a nation
An abode of peace
A treasure of empire
A haven of tranquility
A kingdom of treasures
An oasis of modern empire
A space of warmth greeting
A den of hospitable people
A neoclassical form of politics
A gateway to beyond comports
An avenue of understanding
An environment of treasures
An ancient Sultanate kingdom
An indeed pampering Brunei Darussalam
Travel Brunei Darussalam Poem - Bandar Seri Begawan
by John Tiong Chunghoo
Bandar Seri Begawan weds the old and new -
roads, heritage buildings, museums, mosques, parks,
a market by the river selling jungle produce
and of course the Jerudong Amusement Park
where late Michael Jackson performed for
the Sultan's 50th birthday - - almost 20 years
before the release of his last album, That's It
it is not the town though that revs one's spirit up
but the humble Brunei river that flows by it
the river opens one to the heart of the Sultanate
here you could see the gleaming Sultan's Palace
the oil kingdom's diverse flora and fauna
as well as the way the Sultan's subjects live,
oil fuels the movements here and everywhere
sampans, motored boats go up and down
the waterway
there is even a little oil station on stilts
right in the middle of the river
for the boatman to fill up their boat tanks
the most poignant here are the
smart young generation during sunset hours- -
tudong clad malay schoolgirls
in long white blouse and ocean blue skirt
bleary eyed boys in white shirts, dark green long pants
with rucksacks on their backs get down from their boats
and rush to their wooden houses - home sweet home
a newly wedded couple
in resplendent traditional baju melayu
hold each other, smile and speed
away in their boat to their new nest
cococnut palms sway and
a Sharifah Aini song goes on air
while warm breeze blows
reminding me of a paradise on earth,
the egrets both the orange and black beak species
add grace to the to the picturesque river
the Malays call them banggau
I also have the Brunein luck to spot the
proboscis monkeys- monyet belanda
with their long flabby nose, humanlike faces
the males moving with their harem
at one end of the river the Sultan's Palace
where cutleries are made of gold
and waiters get thousands in tips
glistens over the waters
there also I could visualise the smile of the
man with the songkok on the blue dollar notes
the man who led one of the oldest Malay sultanates
which gave away Sarawak - my beloved state to the
White Rajah
The Oilfield Labourers
translated by Siti Badriyah biti Haji Md Yusuf
Reflection
"The Oilfield Labourers" is a short story set in Kampong Umbi, a village in Brunei, and follows the lives of oilfield laborers who work in the oilfields of Seria. The story explores the lives of these laborers and the challenges they face in their work and personal lives.
Themes and Symbolism
The themes of the story include the challenges faced by oilfield laborers, the impact of modernization on traditional ways of life, and the importance of community and cooperation. The story emphasizes the importance of community and cooperation, as the laborers work together to overcome the challenges they face.
The story uses the symbol of the "golden egg" to represent the wealth and prosperity that the oil industry brings to the village. This symbol reflects the importance of the oil industry to the village's economy and way of life.
Cultural Context
The story is set in Brunei, a small country located on the island of Borneo in Southeast Asia. Brunei is known for its oil and gas industry, which is a major contributor to the country's economy. Moreover, the story reflects the cultural context of Brunei, where the oil and gas industry is an important part of the country's identity and economy. The story also reflects the importance of community and cooperation in Brunei culture.
Literary Techniques Used
The story uses imagery and symbolism to create a vivid picture of life in the village and the challenges faced by the oilfield laborers.
The story also uses dialogue and characterization to develop the characters and their relationships with each other. The use of dialogue and characterization adds depth and complexity to the story's themes of community and cooperation.
Borneo's Green Heart
Reflection
The poem entitled Borneo’s Green Heart is reflecting its country itself. It discusses the overall wealth and growth of Brunei stated from the lines “A kingdom of treasures” & “an environment of treasures” which makes it the “Land of Unexpected Treasures”. The lines "An abode of peace" and "A haven of tranquility" vividly express the safety and calmness of a country. These phrases conjure up a serene and harmonious image that signifies several key aspects of a peaceful and tranquil nation. An "abode of peace" implies that people are able to live without fear of violence and crime. While the “A haven of tranquility” affirmed sense of peace and quiet in the country. Lastly, in the lines “A den of hospitable people” showed the people’s hospitality of Brunei.
Moreover, the country Brunei is not only rich economically but also in its people’s hospitality and country’s tranquility. Brunei's wealth transcends its economic prosperity. It is a country where the richness of life is defined not only by financial affluence but also by the extraordinary hospitality of its people and the tranquility that reflects the land.
Themes and Symbolism
The theme of the poem entitled “Borneo’s Green Heart” is to show the Brunei’s beauty in terms of economy, people, government, culture, and traditions. It captures the various beauty and reflects the nation’s wealth derived from its different source of national resources.
Stated from the lines of the poem are hints of Brunei’s richness. Additionally, from the title itself “Green Heart” symbolizes the country’s environmental care. Beyond the environmental aspect, the poem also alludes to Brunei's economic wealth, which is derived from its diverse national resources. It hints at the nation's economic stability and the abundance of resources, such as oil and gas, that have contributed significantly to its affluence. The poem showcases the harmony between the government and its people, suggesting that the nation's prosperity is also rooted in effective governance and a united citizenry.
Cultural Context
In the line “An abode of peace” implies that Brunei provides its citizens and residents with a safe and secure environment, free from the constant fear of violence and crime. This phrase underscores the nation's commitment to maintaining law and order. In Brunei, the low crime rate and the strict implementation of laws contribute to a society where individuals can go about their daily lives with a profound sense of safety.
The phrase "a haven of tranquility" adds to the impression of tranquility in the nation. It emphasizes the tranquil atmosphere that penetrates peoples' daily lives. A number of things, such as the influence of Islamic beliefs, the peaceful coexistence of its diverse people, and a social commitment to peaceful conflict resolution, are responsible for Brunei's peace.
Literary Techniques Used
The phrase "Borneo’s green heart" employs metaphor as a compelling literary technique. Each word within this expression deviates from its literal definition, collectively painting a vivid and imaginative picture of Brunei. When we consider the literal definition. However, this metaphorical description transforms Brunei into something greater than a political entity. The term "green heart" implies a deep connection to the natural world, as if Brunei is the core of Borneo, the life force at its center.
Travel Brunei Darussalam Poem - Bandar Seri Begawan
by John Tiong Chunghoo
Reflection
This poem entitled Travel Brunei Darussalam Poem - Bandar Seri Begawan appears to be a celebration of Brunei Darussalam, with on its capital city called Bandar Seri Begawan. The poet employs imagery and descriptive language to capture the essence of this country and its cultural and natural beauty. It also values the country through showing the nature and culture in Brunei and tells us about the poignant events which makes the country more beautiful.
In the opening lines of the poem, the author sets the stage for what is to come by hinting at a comparison between the old and modern aspects of Brunei. This immediately engages the reader's curiosity, as it suggests a journey through time and an exploration of the evolving character of the country. By mentioning "Bandar Seri Begawan weds the old and new," the author sets the tone for a narrative that will highlight the harmonious coexistence of tradition and progress in this city. The first stanza and the lines “Bandar Seri Begawan weds the old and new - roads, heritage buildings, museums, mosques, parks” convey that these places have a memorable experience.
Themes, Symbolism, & Cultural Context
In the opening lines of the poem, the author sets the theme for the comparison between the old and modern aspects of Brunei. It suggests a story through time and an exploration of the evolving character of the country. By mentioning "Bandar Seri Begawan weds the old and new," the author sets the tone for a narrative that will highlight the harmonious coexistence of tradition and progress in this city.
In connection with the previous statement, the poem may go on to discuss how the "old" is represented in the city's ancient architecture, the customs that are still alive, and the way of life that has been passed down through generations throughout the poem. Meanwhile, the "new" may be represented by the city's modern infrastructure, contemporary art, and the city's dynamic, changing society.
The poem's notion of memorable experience symbolizes that Bandar Seri Begawan and Brunei provide something unique and profound to the visitors. It's more than just stunning landscape, it's a site where the past and present collide to produce an enriching experience for visitors.
Literary Techniques Used
The poem used metaphor and personification. The line "coconut palms sway and a Sharifah Aini song goes on air" used to relate the swaying coconut trees to the rhythm of a song. The poem personifies the river, it "opens one to the heart of the Sultanate," implying that it has human-like traits of invitation and disclosure.