Even in prosperous times, the living robbed the dead.
― Jocelyn Murray, author
The year 1966 was very significant for folk in Melupa as this was the very first time the Sibu-Kuching trunk road prided in its conquest and became useable.
It was also the year that my dad’s original longhouse Munggu Embawang (shared together with then Krian rep Datuk Amar Dunstan Endawie Enchana) — the furthermost community dwelling in Melupa basin — celebrated our Iban grandest festival Gawai Antu.
Aged 12, I took pride in having a shot (a photo still intact now) in front of the many guests right in front of the more than 40-door longhouse. Posing with me were my three brothers (namely Edward, Jon and our adopted brother James Buang), a cousin and an uncle.
Our lensman was Ah Lok from Saratok town, who has remained our friend to this very day — when I met him in 2019, we reminisced all our photography sessions and he was saddened by the fact that our cousin and uncle in that photo had gone to be with our forebears.
The whole process of welcoming guests, parading and chanting remained a blurred memory but I remember well the day after the Gawai Antu, when all the decorated tombs were all brought to the cemetery at Nanga Burui. This was the first cemetery in Melupa and is still used by non-Christians till today.
For the record, there are three in my family who share the burials at Nanga Burui, namely my maternal granddad Narang Jeluka (who died in 1948), my youngest brother Tambi (who died as an infant in 1959, aged only 44 days) and my uncle Ngauh Narang (who died, aged 59, in 1973).
On that day, in 1966, unconsciously and without any designed effort, the three of us cousins were about to make history.
Just across the river by the roadside is our rubber plantation, where I used to toil up till 1974 (when romancing with a rich Sibu beauty). Nowadays, the area is planted with cocoa and coffee plants plus around 11 trees of rambutans that are fruiting non-stop. It has a mixed zone status.
Due to the easy access from the road, there are regular trips by families sending in their relatives for burial using this access route passing through our land (for free of course).
Back to that day at the cemetery, we boys were among the first to reach the cemetery and waited for most of the decorated tombs to arrive and be installed. For my family, Edek Medang, who died aged 105 circa 1963, led the bereaved relatives numbering around five, who were commemorated during the Gawai Antu, the first being held within around 35 years. Edek was my dad’s grandma.
Apart from waiting to see the interesting decorated tombs, we were also hoping for some food. After a group of womenfolk arrived, we wasted no time but went straight to the rice in bamboo and other food items on offer.
Food sharing then was still at its best — and has always been till this very day. There were ample meats, pan cakes, soups and other items too. We had it all.
After food, then came our second plan — to look for valuable items. No, our aim was not to steal but perhaps did some swap (in my pocket I had some money, mostly one ringgit notes and lots of coins won in a poker game the night before — the Bible says ‘Thou shalt not steal’ but doesn’t say ‘Thou shalt not swap’.
With the new trunk road in use, there were wild rumours of gravediggers intent on doing their despicable deed. So my cousins Madil, Kimbui and I (buddies since we were six) were on a mission to compare, and perhaps destroy priceless baiya (items given to the dead) that would include jars and utensils (including priceless tea set from Ming or Yuan Dynasty).
No fewer than 15 tombs with valuable jars were broken or destroyed rendering them valueless. We destroyed three very costly tea sets, that were worth few thousand ringgit prior to our destruction.
But one tomb stood out — we found one special tin with lid on containing all Japanese currencies. However, the moment we opened the lid, the currencies (Japanese Straits Dollars) all became abuk (dust). This actually shocked us and we quickly moved to another location but we found nothing more interesting.
Only one old man, namely Manang Chundi, knew about our mission and he praised us though I told him, “Please don’t tell dad.” (Dad was his very good friend.)
Yes, many months later, quite a number of items were reported stolen from nearby graveyards in Kerangan, Kawit, Mendas and others but none from Nanga Burui.
Our acts of breaking and destroying were certainly condemned but not by the dead to whom the items were given. If we didn’t destroy, the would-be thieves would be laughing all the way to the bank.
