Malaysia: A Truly Amazing Country

The reason my heart raced was because, prior to this trip, my blood pressure had been on the high side, and my wife had been battling with back/neck ache and pain in the legs. I kept looking across the shiny oak table at Dr Amer’s face, searching for any sign of answers, as he arranged […]

The reason my heart raced was because, prior to this trip, my blood pressure had been on the high side, and my wife had been battling with back/neck ache and pain in the legs. I kept looking across the shiny oak table at Dr Amer’s face, searching for any sign of answers, as he arranged and sorted out our reports, but his cool demeanor betrayed nothing. Luckily, he said my blood pressure was normal, with only a marginal difference from the last reading he took about a year ago, and my wife’s only problem turned out to be lack of vitamin D. She was put on them and some other drugs that have drastically reduced the pains now.

He also recommended a diet that will correct things in which we were diagnosed to be on the border line in order to avoid being on drugs- – in future. All thanks to Allah SWT. The reason why I am telling you all this is because, it was there, then, and that day, I came to the painful conclusion that my blood pressure level disparity definitely had something to do with the state of our country, Nigeria.

We were out of this country for almost three weeks when we went in to the clinic for the medicals. I wondered if it will climb up again upon return—which was to be in two days  – but perished the thoughts almost immediately, deciding to apply Hassan’s solution when we got back. Hassan, a friend of mine, had called me one day to advice that I cut down on watching nta News and be selective on what to read in the newspapers. ‘Believe me I have tried it, and it has drastically reduced my worries’ he had concluded. It was during this holiday also, which I can comfortably dub, without any fear of contradiction, as the grand mother of all holidays, I came to the conclusion that indeed, some people are practically living in paradise on this tiny globe of ours, while others are living in the opposite abode. After all, what is hell? Is it not all about torments?

Aren’t we all tormented now?  It’s left for you to decide which side you want to belong, and decide on change or continuity, both here, and in the hereafter – if you catch my drift. Anyway, this was my conclusion at the end of our holiday. For some reason, I decided to start with the conclusion than start from the beginning, finish midway in Malaysia, go into Singapore in the next piece, before coming back full cycle to Dubai as in the conclusion you read above.  The title of the piece also pre-supposes that there will be a sequel on Malaysia.

To start with, I must confess that this is the most therapeutic trip I, and I suppose my co-travelers have taken ever. Six of us set out for this one hell of a trip on May 22, 2012. Pardon my language please. Myself, Bashir el-Rufai, Abdulkadir Idris [Mayanan Katsina], along with our wives, or should I say, with mine, and one of theirs each, or, with one of one, two of three, and three of three, or, as one keen observer simply puts it, with one, two, three – in that order – if you know what I mean, and if you still don’t get it, I don’t think you ever will. I will maintain their identity here, in that order too.

This should, and surely will, partly make it imperative for me to tone down the piece, in order not to kick-start a rat, or more appropriately, wifey—if there is anything like that – race. Oops, maybe I already have. What do you think? Anyway, I know my big brothers are up to the task. We left Lagos for Kuala Lumpur with Emirates on May 22. At Lagos airport, Bashir got e-mail from his travel agent in Dubai that we had gotten room upgrades at the Ritz Carlton in Kuala, just as we were passing through security, which we all interpreted as a good omen for the entire trip—and it turned out to be indeed so.

Out of the airport in Dubai—we transited for two days to break the journey – me, Mayana, and our wives were driven to City Seasons Suites, a hotel strategically located not too far from the airport and directly opposite the Deira City Center. Bashir, who some people refer to as the governor of Dubai, went home.

At breakfast the following morning, we chose seats that gave us a good view of the lush green sprawling lawn right across the ground floor restaurant. A combination of that, the very courteous Kenyan attendant, and most of all the breakfast itself, brightened our morning that day. We subsequently spent the next two days doing what most people do in Dubai—shopping and eating.

Its amazing how those Sheikhs perfected a system of luring people to come set up in the desert, then lure others to come buy from them, picking up a percentage in the process for the Emirates  in the form of a taxation that nobody can see or understand. Count yourself lucky if you come out of Dubai with a small fraction of what you go in with, no matter how much it is. Anyway, that’s just by the way.

Our flight to Kuala was exceptional, in that it afforded some of us the opportunity of flying in the A380 for the first time. The aircraft is equipped with close to 100 first and business class seats, all at an upper deck. The seats come with an individual mini bar attached, and a lounge where group of friends can go sit and discuss – business, I guess. Uncle Salis tells me the first class comes with a shower. Such comfort in an aircraft is mind boggling.

Only the Almighty knows what they will come up with, long after we are gone… swimming pool, spa, or maybe a tennis court. Who knows? I slept most of the way, without going to take advantage of the lounge, can you imagine?  The K L terminal building is truly amazing, in that it makes one feel like being in the middle of the Amazon jungle, because of the trees that block the view of the sky from the fixed glass structure. What a beautiful sight it was.

We took a train to another section of the terminal to do immigration. As soon as we disembarked, a staff of the Nigerian High Commission approached and collected our passports, yellow cards and subsequently led us to immigration. That and luggage picked, we were driven directly to the Ritz at the downtown, in an area called the Golden Triangle. Now, the Ritz is unarguably a marvelous hotel.

The reception, with only 2 antique seats in between a console gives the impression that guests are either not welcome, or are not expected to loiter around for long. We were given rooms that had personal butlers attached, all for a price that only Vasi—our travel agent in Dubai that does wonders with ticket and hotel prices – can get. Otherwise, some of the things wouldn’t have been affordable. But their service is first class, I must admit.

The High Commissioner, Ambassador Bello Shehu Ringim, whom I follow like in twitter, and whom I also regularly mention in my travelogues  called not long after we had settled in our living/bedrooms to say he was still held up at a function, but that the drivers would be back to pick us for dinner at his residence later.

With Bello as the High Commissioner, I can comfortably invoke the Hausa proverb that says ‘mai uwa a murhu – ‘albeit with a slight amendment to read ‘mai kaka a murhu…, and you know what that means. For the benefit of those that can’t speak Hausa, it roughly means ‘you will not, or, are not expected to starve with your grand mother in charge of the cooking’.  Needless to say, dinner was good, after which we retired to the living room for tea and dwelled on old times and happenings back home.  It’s at this juncture I feel I should tell you a little bit about Malaysia and its people, before letting you in on what we saw and did.

My first impression of Malaysians is that of a people who move slowly whilst their society runs fast, as opposed to ours, where people are in a hurry, but things move either dead slow, or in reverse sometimes. Simply put—theirs is digital, whilst ours is analogue. How sad. To think of Malaysia is to conjure up images of celebration and festivity because of the adverts of the country we see on CNN, and in a way that’s true. The alluring mix of the people—[Malays, Chinese, Indian, European, Arab, and Thai], religions, traditions, and architecture, all help in blending to create a truly unique nation that’s rich in culture and heritage.

Because of its strategic location at the crossroads between the east and west, Malaysia was able to attract early travelers, or should I say gold diggers, from different parts of the globe in search of gold, tin, aromatic wood and spices. Traders from India brought with them Hindu and Buddhist practices.

Arab and Indian traders brought with them Islam, and that’s why early Malaccan rulers were dubbed as sultans. Malacca was at one time one of the most important trading ports in South East Asia, ships from a dozen nations could be seen berthed at its harbor. Early in the fifteenth century a Portuguese fleet led by Alfonso de Albuquerque sailed into its harbor thus giving Malacca its Portuguese touch which is still visible around the city.

They built a massive fort which the Dutch later captured.  The British then came into the picture—trust these Europeans— after a while the Japanese, resulting into a chequered history of colonization. Malaysia gained independence on August 31, 1957. Singapore separated from the federation in 1965, the period in which we gave them palm oil seedlings and intervened positively in resolving the dispute between them and Singapore.

Now palm oil plantations are scattered all over the country, and one of the world’s biggest public offers—bigger than that of face book—in a company that deals with the palm produce was launched just at about the time of our visit. Amongst its diverse population, the dominant ethnic group are the Malays who account for more than half the population, followed by the Chinese with about a quarter.

Don’t be confused—the Malays came about as a result of intermarriage between the Chinese and indigenous women – the other indegenious groups represent about ten percent of the population. In Malaysia, each religion and ethnic group celebrates its own festivals by opening their homes to family and friends regardless of faith or culture, thus creating a society that knows and appreciate each others culture and tradition.

(One very good thing about Malaysia is the food and its cost is affordable to all. With such a mixture of cultures you will expect the country to have a good gastronomic heritage—and they do.) But the main staple food is rice and noodles, and rarely does a Malaysian meal come without chili.

Malaysia, with a land area the size of Norway comprises two distinct parts separated by the South China Sea. West, or peninsular Malaysia is situated between Thailand—a country in my sights – and Singapore, while east Malaysia borders the islands of Borneo. It has a population of about 28 million people of which 7 million live in and around the capital of Kuala Lumpur. However, Putrajaya – which was built in a period of about 7 years—is the administrative capital. Thirty years on, we are still building, if you know what I mean. When it comes to public transportation, they have come a long way from the days when elephants and bullock carts used to carry people, to the most modern public transportation systems.

We are still struggling with Okada and Keke napep. To think that most of the development in the country took place in the last 18 years or so makes you want to… Now, back to where we were. At that dinner chat, the ambassador pretty much laid out a programme for the rest of our days. Trust diplomats.

Driving to and from the ambassadors residence gave me an opportunity to look carefully at the city, and what a beautiful and well lit city did I see. Kuala Lumpur or K L as it is informally known seems to have it all. A remarkable city with an impressive skyline featuring the iconic and world recognizable Petronas twin towers, a rags to riches history, shopping complexes. A mouth watering cuisine—we tasted quite a few, we had to, especially when in the company of big brother Bashir, and Ambassador Ringim.

The following day, we were picked from the hotel by the Ambassador and his wife Hajiya Rayya after a sumptuous breakfast at the hotel. We drove straight to the administrative capital city of Putrajaya, along the way passing by many beautifully designed housing estates.

The Malays have a surplus not deficit of houses. As expected, Putrajaya is like any modern city with wide avenues and boulevards. One easily noticeable thing about this city is the similarity of its landmarks to those of other cities around the world. Say for example, there is a bridge and building that bears a striking resemblance to the opera house seen from across the Sydney harbor in Australia.

From Putrajaya we drove to the city of Sha-Alam, a city after my heart because of its simplicity and relative quietness.  We toured the grounds of an estate called Laman Seri where my big brother had once visited, and wanted us to see the quality of the infrastructure and buildings within.

No need for any comparisons. Shah-Alam to sunway mall, with its Egyptian style grand entrance which transports one back to pharoaic times. We window shopped—well, not really, because a few people picked a few things—and had some snacks at Papa Jones Pizza. We cruised back to Kuala for dinner at a very nice Thai restaurant not far from the Ambassadors residence.

The meal was great, but the killer is the fresh coconut drink/scoop served inside the coconut with a straw. The following day, we went separate ways with 1, 2 and 3, if you know what I mean. 1 went out with Rayya, 2 and 3 went out with 2’s kids who arrived from Malacca the previous evening, whilst we went back into Nigeria, technically, to pay a visit to his Excellency the Ambassador at the High Commission.

Lunch was arranged there by his secretary, Komathi, the most resourceful, friendly and hard working secretary I have ever met, to date. She was the one who arranged our tours in the country and subsequent trip to Singapore. She can truly do wonders within the shortest possible notice. Before going back to the hotel, I passed by the Petronas towers to purchase tickets for a view of the city from atop the tower, but unfortunately they were closed. At night we went for dinner at Salome restaurant in the heart of the city.

The restaurant is very popular with tourists and visitors to Malaysia. Dinner is always a buffet of a variety of meals. It’s impossible for you not to find something your tongue is familiar with, no matter which part of the globe you come from. The main attraction is the traditional song and dance guests are treated to as they slowly increase their body mass. At one point, a traditional hunter came out and blew a couple of balloons—not baboons—that were arranged at the top of the stage, with a bow and arrow from a distance.

He invited guests to come out and try their hunting skills, warning that one should however be careful not to swallow the arrow while inhaling after blowing, as it could have fatal and dangerous consequences. I went upstage with a little encouragement from the High Commissioner, but unfortunately disappointed despite given a second chance by the hunter. I mean, Africans are supposed to be famous hunters, aren’t they?

My only consolation was, the lady who volunteered after me only got it after being pushed, or helped closer to the stage by the hunter on a third attempt, which I figured I would have gotten also. We and almost all other tourists took souvenir photos after the show. I left with that hunter in mind, promising myself that I would challenge him again when next I visit K L. Oh, what a night.

As was usual, we went back to the residence for tea and retired to the Ritz much later. On May 29 we started the day at the pavilion, a very nice plaza—sorry mall—close to our hotel.  Because I had overslept and missed breakfast in the hotel, I sat down at the first restaurant available in the mall called Babylon, whilst all else dispersed in the mall.

At the mall, we parted ways with 1, 2, and 3 to go for a hair cut in the golf club, but decided against it when I saw what the Malaysian barber did to an African head. We drove back to Times Square—another Mall – and had a real nice cut from an African barber, after which we strolled into a salon for the best hour foot massage I have ever had.

That night, dinner – African-style was prepared at the residence with lots of students and a cousin of mine [Muntaqa] working with Shell Petroleum in Brunei, who flew into K L with his family specifically to see us, in attendance.  On May 30 we checked out of the hotel and filed into a 14 seater bus arranged by the amiable Komathi-of  and went to Malacca to visit the children’s school.

Malacca, a six hundred year old city, was a spice-route port city that was once coveted by all the major European powers. The Portuguese who seem to have a Teflon effect were the first to capture it from the Sultans in the fifteenth century. they held on to it until the Dutch captured it a century later, then the British showed face in the 18th century, then the Japanese occupied it, until it became independent as a component state of Malaysia in the mid 19th century.

Today, Malacca, a UNESCO world heritage site still seems to be in captivity, but, luckily by tourists.  We reached the Renaissance hotel in Malacca late evening because of a detour to a factory close to the city. The children went to their hostels and came back in time for dinner at a Chinese restaurant on the mezzanine floor of the hotel. The dinner was average, nothing spectacular. In fact we had to spice up some of the food with No 2’s yaji.

But, I must admit breakfast in the hotel was like none other in the trip, to me. We went out to the two big shopping malls in town for some real bargain shopping, along the way passing by lots of nicely garlanded trishaws, before finally closing the curtain for the night at a Star Buck’s coffee shop.

In the morning Bashir and Mayana went early to Multi Media University along with No’s 2 and 3, whilst I took the opportunity to tour the city with No 1. That was when I discovered Malacca is really a must for any holiday visitor to Malaysia.

We stopped at the Dutch Square in the centre of the city, meandered around the antique shops and maritime museum, shopped and went back to the hotel, by which time the driver was already waiting.

What I really regret missing out on in Malacca because of time are, the cruise on the Malacca river  which seems to have sliced the city in half – a night ride on a trishaw, and climbing up the Malacca tower. We checked out and left for Nottingham University, a U K university with outside campuses only in Malaysia and China, somewhere around Nilai. The university grounds and facilities truly present a good learning environment.

What with the large expanse of land, lush green covered lawns, artificial lake and fountains, coupled with world class standard buildings. We made some enquiries, picked some brochures and had snacks at the school cafeteria before leaving.

To me, the difference between that environment and what we have in some schools here now is like the difference between up and down, and I know for sure my university [ABU, Zaria] had an almost similar environment not too long ago. It may be of interest for you to know that Malaysia has been dedicating about twenty five percent of its annual budget on education since independence, so why won’t they have an enlightened digitalized society?

Our plan was to proceed to the Genting Highland resort from Malacca for a night, and descend back into K L the following day if Komathi was able to secure accommodation at any of the hotels at the resort for us, which was amazingly proving difficult.

Now, prepare for this—the Genting highland is a holiday resort with two five star hotels, two four star and one (three star that is the biggest in the world, I repeat, the biggest hotel in the world, with an amazing six thousand one hundred and eighteen rooms,) the exact altitude at which it is built—six thousand one hundred and eighteen ft—above sea level.

Can you imagine that it was eventually with difficulty, coupled with some lobbying that Komathi was able to arrange 3 rooms for us in the 3 star hotel despite, not only the number of rooms in that hotel but the availability of an additional four within the resort?  The lobby of the hotel was like an airport terminal building, and here I mean real airport terminal building, not like – anyway, like the Hausa man will say—‘abar kaza cikin gashinta’ –let sleeping dogs lie.

We finally checked in and navigated our way to find our rooms above the clouds. Komathi had advised that we shouldn’t miss the daily show that starts at 9pm at the main Genting hotel, so we quickly got ready and came down to try and locate the venue within a maze of rides, shops, restaurants and hotels. It took taking many turns, asking many people, taking many escalators and making almost as many calls to Komathi before we could locate the place. The show, called FREEZE, a variety of comedy, dance drama on ice and magic, was truly amazing and worth all the trouble. I ended up with some cold rice and frozen fish—which could have tasted better if No 2 was there to spice it up with her yaji – for dinner at a restaurant. The wise ones amongst us insisted on going to another restaurant for something hotter.

I was too weak and exhausted to follow. Checking out the following day was a lot faster and easier, because all you do is drop your key card in a machine that automatically checks you out.

Surveying the crowd as we made our way out of the lobby to the bus, it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen a single European, or at least hadn’t noticed any, because there sure weren’t many, that’s even if there were any. The market is purely from the catchments area. Genting is a truly amazing place in a truly amazing country.

Nobody goes into Malaysia and comes out the same, I tell you. The rather talkative but nice and well trained in hospitality bus driver offered to take us to a temple that is dedicated to the Chinese entrepreneur who single handedly established the resort, which has its own independent security, water and power supply-which I am sure will be more than what your village gets from the national grid.

Back in K L, we checked back into the Ritz for another day or two before flying out to Singapore with lots of gifts for me and no 1 from my cousin and from His Excellency, the ambassador to each and everyone of us, with a regional airline called Silk Air. See you there soon Insha Allah.

The title of this piece pre-supposes that there will be a sequel, form of which I cannot tell now. It could be 1, 1, 4, or 1,1,1, or 1,1,3, 1,3,2 or even 2,4,4, who known?