Auntie

 

Auntie Zainal and I have just stepped out from the compound of Makruf Mosque.

"Assalamualaikum". As usual, the middle-aged woman is standing at the gate to greet us.

"Waalaikumussalam". We reply in chorus as we pass her by.

Other visitors are coming out by the same gate one by one. Like us, they also acknowledge the woman's greeting. The generous ones would donate one or two dollars to her. But most of them do not pay any attention to her.

Every Friday, when the afternoon prayer is over, the woman (henceforth I call Auntie) would hang around there except when it rains. She would greet everyone and would be hopeful of donations from the congregation.

I have never donated any money to her. I would only reply to her greeting and give her a smile. That is also a form of charity. Auntie probably regards me as stingy. Let it be. What is most important is that I regularly donate to the mosque's fund.

Zainal also has never donated to Auntie. We both agree that we should not give any donation to her because by doing so, it is as good as encouraging the act of begging, and advocating indolence indirectly.

We are not mean, but we feel that begging is not the proper way to obtain financial aid. If Auntie really needed aid, she could get it from the numerous welfare bodies in this country.

We could not determine whether Auntie is really poor or whether she is merely taking advantage of other people's sympathy. In this age, it is very hard to differentiate between an impostor and a bona fide beggar. It is better to be cautious than sorry.

For sure we do not feel pity for Auntie. In fact, we are suspicious of her presence. Auntie does not look unkempt like other beggars. Moreover, we had seen her selling curry puffs at Kallang Stadium when the Malaysian Cup fever hit soccer enthusiasts here two years ago.

We can surely recognise her figure and face. It's verified! We have not identified the wrong person. Her dark-brown complexion and the prominent mole on her chin enhanced our confidence that the Auntie we just met at the mosque is the same person whom we saw at Kallang Stadium.

We notice that Auntie is still healthy as we last saw her two years ago. The proof is Auntie can still walk without the aid of a walking stick. But why she needs to beg? Why can't she continue to sell kuihs or curry puffs as she used to do? She can even work as a cleaner or support herself by selling used cardboard boxes as what many poor nyonyas normally do.

"Auntie stopped selling curry puffs because business was bad since the Lions withdrew themselves from the Malaysian Cup." Zainal tries to joke when I asked him those questions.

"That's not right. Auntie changed her profession because beggars don't need to pay income tax," I reply.

"That's not right too. Auntie begs because nobody has asked her to stop begging," adds Zainal.

"Are you sure? What proof do you have to say that no one has asked her to stop begging?" I try to trap him. Zainal grins widely. He knows his statement is not convincing. "Maybe someone has asked her to stop begging but she refused," I continue.

Just after I said that, service 51 reaches the bus stop where we had been waiting. We flag and board it. Luckily there are empty seats for us. We quickly take our seats and continue our conversation.

"The correct answer is that Auntie begs because the authorities have never caught her. If she had been caught, surely she won't dare to continue begging," I say confidently.

"Not necessarily so. Some people are recalcitrant and incorrigible," Zainal refutes. That reminds me of thousands of drug addicts who keep getting in and out of DRCs as if they love those rehabilitation centres.

"You're right, Zai. If a person is incorrigible, no matter how harsh we punish him, it will not have any effect on him."

"Maybe it will be effective if we changed secular laws with Islamic laws!" Zainal suggests.

"But Zai, I think as long as there are people who continue to donate to beggars like Auntie, they will always hang around our mosques."

Our conversation stops at this point because the bus has reached my destination. When I settle down in my office, I still keep thinking about the lady at the mosque. Her face seems to appear on my computer screen until it affects my concentration. I don't know why but I can't forget her. In the end, I cannot complete my job for the rest of the day. Why does Auntie have to beg? Doesn't she have any relatives? Is she an illegal immigrant? Is she suffering from a serious illness until she can't take up other jobs? Could she be a member of a beggar syndicate? Where does she stay? Questions after questions keep coming up in my mind.

I know that all these questions would be answered if I could spend some time to approach and interview Auntie. However, I still haven't got the opportunity to do it. God willing, if I have the time, next week I will talk to her.

Yes, I will try to dig up Auntie's background. Perhaps I could expose her plight and experiences for society's benefit. From her profile, I surmise that Auntie is at least 60 years old. This means that she survived the hardships of living through the Japanese Occupation. She can surely tell me some interesting histories. I want to know what she did for a living during those painful years. Was she involved in the struggle for independence from colonial rule?

Why does she end up as a beggar now? Why did she stop selling curry puffs? Why it seems that no welfare bodies are aware of her plight? Is it appropriate to just ignore her and let her continue begging? And many other questions?

If Auntie is really poor and needs aid, I will help her in my own way. I will expose her hardship in the local newspapers so that she will get some attention from the public. Many people have received financial aid through this method. I believe the authorities will also take the necessary action to help her.

Meanwhile, I feel grateful that I'm still able to work without having to beg on the streets. Although my salary as a clerical officer is very little compared to those of ministers or professional footballers, I'm still contented because at least I still have a secure job.

Let the higher classes look down on the kind of job I'm doing, the main thing is, I'm happy. And what is important is that I'm not begging or involved in corruption or criminal breach of trust like what some honourable people often commit.

"Hey, Taufik. Why are you still around? Are you doing TO today?"
Dilla, my colleague, wakes me up from dreaming. All because of thinking about Auntie, I cannot complete my job this evening. It's already past maghrib when I reach home. I feel very restless soon after performing my maghrib and isha' prayers. I don't know why Auntie's face suddenly appears again in my mind.

I feel that something is amiss. Suddenly, I get the urge to read The Meaning of The Holy Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, that I've not touched for quite some time. I begin by reading surah al-Fatihah and move on to surah al-Baqarah.

For a while I manage to forget Auntie who's been haunting me since this afternoon. I continue reading line by line until I reach line 271. Suddenly I feel ashamed of myself. According to verse 2:271:

"If ye disclose (acts of charity), even so, it is well, but if ye conceal them, and make them reach those (really) in need, that is best for you: It will remove from you some of your (stains of) evil. And Allah is well-acquainted with what ye do."

I feel very unkind because I have never donated to Auntie. Maybe she really needs help. I start to regret. And then I remember my conversation with Zainal not long ago.

"In this age, there are so many professional liars. Be they politicians, businessmen, spiritual leaders, stock brokers, professional footballers, writers and beggars. I don't trust them all."

"You cannot think that way about everyone Zai. There may be one or two liars around. But, it's unfair to hold your prejudice against others." "Actually I am very disappointed because my close friend had conned me. Now it's hard for me to trust anybody."

"Let bygone be bygone Zai. You should not harp on the get-rich-quick scheme. Take it as a lesson. Next time, be careful when handing over your money to someone."

"It's easy for you to say, because it's not your money that is lost." "I had also been conned like you Zai. But, I don't go to the extent of losing faith in them. I believe that each individual can change if he or she gets the guidance from God."

Suddenly Zainal's voice fades away and Auntie's voice pierces my mind.

"Taufik, I know that you don't like to see me begging. But, I have never forced anybody to donate to me."

"I am not a fraud like you thought. I'm actually giving you the opportunity to increase your credits for doing good deeds."

"You yourself are aware that 'it's better to give than to receive'. So, do not hesitate to donate to people like me."

"Actually, I ask for donations not for myself but for the sake of others." "I'm not disappointed if you're still unwilling to give alms to me. But I hope that you could fulfil my only request. Please recite the al-Fatihah for me after I leave."

I'm suddenly awakened when I hear the barking of dogs outside my house. I had dozed off for a while just a moment ago. Hence I cannot sleep and remain awake. It's already morning and I groggily get ready for work. I'm still haunted by yesterday's dream. The more I try to forget it, the clearer Auntie's face appears in my mind.

I don't feel like working when I look at the pile of documents that should have been completed yesterday.

"Whether you like it or not, you must finish your job Fik, if you don't want to end up as a beggar like Auntie." My conscience seems to mock me.

I was busy handling the documents, when I received a telephone call from Zainal. "Hello Fik, there's a shocking news. You take today's Malay newspaper and look at page two. I cannot talk long, I'll call you back."

I quickly get the paper from Dilla who is incidentally reading it. And straight away I turn to page two: $500,000 for Masjid Makruf's fund.

"The late Hajah Saleha Said who lived on her own had donated $500,000 to Masjid Makruf's reconstruction fund. In her lifetime, she also often donated money to welfare bodies like Darul Ihsan. Her doctor has confirmed that she died because of heart attack. Her body will be buried after zohor prayer."

"Innalillahi wainnailaihi rajiuun."

"Fik, why your face suddenly looks pale?" asks Dilla. "You know Auntie Saleha?"