Marina Mahathir's heartfelt note to Dr Siti Hasmah

My Mum’s book to be published July 20 is called My Name is Hasmah and it’s full of lovely anecdotes about her life from childhood til today. So I won’t repeat anything from there. Instead I want to talk about all the lessons that Mum has taught me throughout my life, in random order.

1. Mum taught me, by her own example, that you have to be dedicated and work hard to get what you want in life. She struggled in her medical studies until she finally passed and became a doctor. In her 70s, she took up French with such dedication that she took (and passed) exams and for a while, we used to sms each other in French for practice. Unfortunately without much opportunity to converse, Mum isn’t very good at speaking it. Still her determination to learn was awesome.

More recently Mum decided to take up the violin again, after some six decades of not even touching it (she played during the war years). Not only did she have to learn how to hold the violin and bow again but because of her poor eyesight, she had to learn every song by heart. And learn she did until she was good enough to play at the Dewan Filharmonik Petronas. Last December she even picked up a new instrument, the er-hu though her repertoire was limited to ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’. All this in addition to the piano and the gamelan.

I can’t say I’ve ever been quite as dedicated to learning anything like Mum, but I have had my bouts of earnestness. Every time I think I can’t do something, I think of Mum and what she has achieved.

2. Mum taught me how to pack. When I was still a schoolgirl studying away from home, Mum used to pack my bags for me. She literally could pack anything into a suitcase. Her packing was so neat and orderly that one time a Customs officer at Heathrow upon inspecting my bag was actually moved to comment on how beautifully everything was packed. I’m sure he’s seen a lot of packing types too.

So I grew up pretty good at packing too. But I was always looking for better ways of doing it. One day I stumbled on modular packing, the art of packing everything in mesh cubes so that not only did all my stuff fit nicely into my suitcase, they were also well organised. I taught my husband and children to pack this way and one day my Mum saw this method and immediately embraced it. Today none of us know how to pack any other way, and I remain proud that for a change I actually taught Mum something!

3. Mum always placed great importance on courtesy. That includes not just manners but also consideration towards others. She could not abide children who did not behave in the presence of adults; they should respect all adults and not interrupt them when they are speaking. It sounds quaintly old-fashioned these days but I taught my kids that they must always greet their friends’ parents first whenever they visited them, and that while their opinions are welcome, they had to wait their turn to give them. I thought that this lesson transcends generations.

Mum’s emphasis on courtesy also meant that a person’s station in life is immaterial when it comes to how we behave. So we are not to be rude to anyone. Ever. Any reports of rude behaviour elicited punishment so we learnt this lesson very well. We were to treat everyone, whether they’re salespeople, Tan Sris, gardeners, locals or foreigners with equal consideration.

4. Mum loves diversity and is ever interested in different cultures. She has been lucky enough to have travelled the world and met so many people, whether in her official or personal capacity. In her book, she talks about some of the friends she’s made in her life and on her trips and who became lifelong friends. Mum and Dad are always confident of who they are and the culture they come from so they have never felt threatened by anyone else’s. They’ve always felt that Malaysians have as much to contribute to the world as anyone else and we should never feel we are inferior. In that respect long ago Mum set the example of wearing national dress especially when she travelled with Dad, without feeling the need to make it official policy.

It also meant that for souvenirs of her travels, she would bring back all sorts of ‘ethnic’ clothes and artefacts from abroad, most of which we didn’t know what to do with. Except for food which is always welcome.

This early exposure to the diversity of the peoples of the world means that we children too are interested in different cultures and people. Some of us have lived overseas, not just for studies, and have no trouble fitting in wherever we are. Knowing different cultures helps us to define who we are and who we are not, and helps us to navigate this globalised world today.

5. As some of you who have met her will know, Mum is the sort who is very open and inclusive of anyone who comes into our ambit. For the past few years, we’ve had the school or university friends of my nieces and nephews join us for Raya. This year my sister-in-law and her children, and my brother-in-law, came over from Jakarta. All get included in our festivities, including our morning ‘beraya’ rituals at the insistence of my Mum. All get dressed up and join the queue to ask forgiveness from my parents and the rest of the family from the eldest to the youngest. Nobody is not family.

I think this is a very nice custom because it is very much an Asian one. It’s warm and hospitable and is exactly the sort of thing you wish for when you’re abroad. I guess with globalisation, things have changed though. In my student days in the UK I was rarely invited to my friends’ homes. Today my daughters are far luckier and are able to experience the hospitality of their friends’ families and as a faraway parent, I am truly grateful for that.

6. My Mum ( and Dad) always trusted their kids. They taught us values to live by and sent us off to study and live abroad without being afraid that we would get into trouble. I am sure they had some anxious moments but generally we didn’t give them serious trouble, got our degrees and then came home to work. Of course after that we did give them some cause for worry but ultimately it all worked out.

One thing my parents never do is pry too much in our lives. They figure if we want to tell them, we will. Which is a really great policy because we don’t face any pressure in our relationships to make them too serious before we’re ready. As they themselves didn’t marry til late, none of us married too early either, apart from my sister who married her teenage sweetheart at age 22. The downside of this policy of course is that we don’t get advice from them but that’s our fault, not theirs.

7. My Mum believes in causes and she sticks to them. She believes in sound public health policies, in family planning and in the rights of women and girls. That comes both from her upbringing and her career as a doctor, and my father has always been supportive of her. I don’t ever remember her reversing any of her beliefs and principles on these issues and so she taught me that consistency is important, unless new evidence comes along to contradict them. So far there’s been no evidence that supports child marriage or not planning families or that women and girls should take lesser roles in society.

When I was president of the Malaysian AIDS Council, Mum was tremendously supportive. She understood instinctively the public health aspects of the epidemic and was not in the least bit hesitant in learning more about it. So many times she would come to our events and talk to people with HIV, the social workers and activists without any formality at all. She even gave permission to name one of our awards to individuals or organisations who did the most to help people living with HIV , the Dr Siti Hasmah Award. I remember one time we went together to visit a home for HIV-positive women and children, Rumah Solehah, very quietly without telling anyone to see for herself what they needed.

In those times when as President of MAC, I faced some difficulties, it was Mum I would turn to for advice and comfort. I remember having to chair a very difficult conference where some people were giving a lot of trouble and I would call her every evening when I got back to my hotel room just to tell her what was happening. Just having her listen was comfort enough. (Mum’s a terrific listener. She really listens and has a way of reading between the lines and soothing you when you’re anxious. I remember once she was in Jakarta for the Thomas Cup and I was in KL where my little daughter was facing an ear operation. I called her so many times and even though she never asked why, she knew instinctively that I was scared. And so she came home in time for the operation.)

Those are just some of the things that Mum taught me. I can probably think of many more things she taught me. The list of things she didn’t teach me is luckily short. She didn’t teach me how to cook, nor how to decorate. She didn’t quite pass down her habit of writing everything down and I am far less organised than she is. She did teach me diligence though so I can start a project and be obsessive enough to finish it. She finds joy in simple things and in the same things the rest of us do. Right now she loves being made up professionally for a photo shoot -- who doesn’t?! Mum also taught me that you can never stop learning so she’s always open to learning a new skill or game or song to play. Stagnation is not a word Mum knows.

So today at the conclusion of her amazing 9th decade, I want to wish my Mummy the happiest birthday.

May you always remain healthy and strong, and may we always be able to make you happy and not ever cause you to be sad or fearful for us. We could not have ever wished for a better Mum because you have always stood by us through thick and thin and you have set an example for kindness and compassion that we can only hope to emulate.

May Allah SWT bless you with a long and healthy life and may you continue to inspire us all.