discovery
I discovered I was suffering from leprosy when I was very young. I saw patches on my legs and on my body. And there was no sensation on them at all. So my people were very superstitious at that time, and they took me to go and see a medium, to ask the temple for help. But all of it was no use. Instead my condition was deteriorating day by day … They said that if you go to the temple, maybe they will recommend something for you, like Chinese herbs or very strange things which might cure me. But instead they made my condition worse. There was no relief. I only got Chinese herbs to boil with water in order to clean my body and get rid of the red patches. But they never helped at all. Besides the Chinese medicine, they also recommended very strange things for me. Which when I took it, I vomited, and I never want to think of it, because whenever I think of it, I feel nauseous. It was something very strange and something very horrible and terrible. [For my patches], they only used what they called a certain type of fig tree, to boil with water to clean the patches. But instead of getting better, sometimes I get scalded by the hot water and it led to ulceration. – Lim Kah Lee, 25 Sep 2005.
admission
Earlier, my parents already knew [that I had leprosy] and so made me take Chinese medicine. Until when my father died and we had no money left. We had no choice, my brothers and sisters were all young. Life was difficult for the family, so because they had no choice, my mother brought me to Trafalgar Home to treat the illness. – Lim Ah Hin, 2 Oct 2005.
No visitors were allowed to come in. It was surrounded by walls. I was just like a prisoner … I felt very sad, and I thought that there is no medicine to cure for us … I think of myself as a living death, surrounded by walls and kept in inside, with no medicine. – Joseph Tan, 17 Sep 2005.
treatment
The injection was on the arm or sometimes on my buttocks. The needle was thick but when it went in, it got bent. After many injections, the skin there became like metal. The needle became bent like a snake. Every week, there were three injections. After the injection, the medicine remained in the arm and couldn’t diffuse. It was not watery, it was like milk. It was thick like white milk. After a long time, months, years, your flesh becomes like metal. – Kuang Wee Kee, 7 Nov 2005.
Sulphone, some people couldn’t take it – their noses got blocked and bled. During that time, my condition was bad, you know, my hands were all swollen, my feet were all swollen, my face was all swollen. No choice, I thought, if I died from taking the tablets, never mind also. People taught me to take the tablets from the people living next door who didn’t want to take the medicine. My nose got blocked, but no choice. If I didn’t take, my condition couldn’t be helped too. Definitely must take. Take already, then see if I die or if I don’t die. If I don’t die, I can hope I can get well. If I die, that will just be the end. At that time, I despaired already. – Lim Ah Hin, 2 Oct 2005.
relocation
They were sent to Bo Kau Sua [Pulau Jerejak in Hokkien], Penang. Last time, there were two attap houses in Trafalgar. The patients lived there until the attap houses were full. Then the authorities had to send them away already. When they came, at four o’clock, it was quiet. They surrounded the place. The police came and called out the names. The Bengali [guard] would give you the gurney sack to pack your things. We saw it. The police seized them by force and put them under guard. They had surrounded the place. They came at four o’clock at night wearing canvas shoes. They stopped the van somewhere to one side, then they walked in. – Kuang Wee Kee, 7 Nov 2005.
suicide
Last time, when you went to work, the towkay [employer] may not be aid and hired you. But other people would say, ‘Don’t sit too near him’. You would definitely hear it. You pretended not to hear. Next day, you wouldn’t work for him already. Because people were afraid of you. People made sarcastic remarks at you. What could you do? Making a living becomes a problem. You think, it’s meaningless to go on living after you have this disease. Might as well just die. You think and think until there is no way out. Just end it. Take a rope, buy poison, or jump into the river. You had no other choice …
The suffering, if you could endure it, you survived, but if you could not, you would die. If you could come to terms with it, OK, never mind if people laughed at you. That’s how we survived until now. But if you couldn’t take people making sarcastic remarks at you, being afraid of you, you would commit suicide. Because living in such a society, you would find life meaningless. It’s not to say, we just want to end our lives. Some people couldn’t see a way out, what can you say? Can’t clothe themselves, can’t feed themselves, can’t go anywhere. There was no happiness, only a lot of suffering. – Kuang Wee Kee, 7 Nov 2005.
war
During the Japanese occupation, it was very, very terrible. The Japanese doctors and the nurses came [to Trafalgar] but they wouldn’t go around the wards … They gave selected men all sorts of tablets, green, blue, black, yellow, each of them about twenty tablets but nothing effective. When they wanted to go back, they called the hospital attendants to bring a basin of Dettol near the truck, where they washed their feet before climbing up the truck. They were very, very scared of leprosy.
During that time, we were forced to eat things that were unsuitable for human beings. The vegetables were full of shit and the pork had maggots inside. The Japanese gave us a kind of dried fish, salted fish, black and coarse. We did not take that fish. The pork and vegetables we cooked in soup. The pork we had to wash and wash to clean all the maggots away.
Everyday, there was someone else who died. And we who had good hands and legs, we had to bring the body up the hill. The men dug, dug and just threw the body inside the hole and covered it up. There was no offering or priest. – Joseph Tan, 17 Sep 2005.
stigma
Leprosy, tuberculosis and mental illness were the three brothers. Mental illness was quite light, it was the little brother. Second brother was tuberculosis. Leprosy was the big brother. These were the three big clans. – Kuang Wee Kee, 7 Nov 2005.
One person got leprosy and people will be afraid of the whole family. They said that you all have this horrible disease. Right? They may not show it openly but they will be afraid in their heart. You understand? The person will suffer. My brothers and sisters will also suffer … It was like that. We didn’t do anything. The rotten sweet potato spoils the yam. You understand? The sweet potato is rotten, the yam is not rotten, but because of the sweet potato, the yam will also be affected. – Kuang Wee Kee, 7 Nov 2005.
When we had this disease, we lost contact with all our friends outside. I had started working when I was 17, 18 years old, I had female friends. But when I had this disease, I didn’t dare to tell them. They would come and visit me previously. When I went inside [Trafalgar Home] later, they still came to look for me at home. They asked my mother. She said that I had followed my boss to Malaysia and was no longer here. They wrote a letter to ask me to phone them but I didn’t dare to. They still asked me to go out with them but I couldn’t go out. I was already inside, this was before I was cured. How to go? All the female friends which I had known are no more in contact already. – Ow Ah Mui, 7 Nov 2005.
I wanted to go back [to the asylum]. I packed my things, some clothing, then I walked out [of the house]. When my mother came to know about this, she chased me back. ‘Don’t care what they say, I want you to stay until the seventh day. We will all go to the cemetery and give our last respects to our father and at that time you can go’. I said, ‘OK’. After the seventh day, we went and said farewell to our father. When we were coming back home, I waved them goodbye. I will never enter this house now. OK, I will go out now, I will go to my place where I stay. So I walk until there’s a bus, that’s only ten cents or twenty cents, take until Lorong Buangkok, then at Woodbridge, then I stop, alight and slowly walk to my camp. There I stayed until the end of the occupation. – Joseph Tan, 17 Sep 2005.
social gambling
Speaking of gambling, it was very lively. At night, the gambling covered a wide area, with all kinds of games … Some people used to be in business and had money, like they had vegetable [business] contracts, fish contracts, meat contracts. They asked people from outside to come and gamble, so it was very lively at night. There was a lot of food sold also. It was like the Great World [mass entertainment centres in Singapore]. Now that I come to think of it, it was not bad then. – Lim Ah Hin, 2 Oct 2005.
family and home
Sungei Buloh is like my home. Yes, I do go out to visit them [my family]. But when they asked me to stay for one week, very sorry. One week, or five days, no, I won’t stay. Tonight I go, tomorrow I come back, I just stay one night. But if you ask me to stay one week, very sorry. If you ask me again to stay one week, then next time I won’t come and visit you. Myself, I already get this kind of sickness, I’m no more under treatment, why should I go back there? If anything [happens], I will get the blame for my whole life. No, I better don’t. But I told them, even if I die, my body must be sent for cremation in KL [Kuala Lumpur]. I don’t want them to take my body home. I told my wife, ‘I don’t want to be buried’. – Rattan Singh, 18 Nov 2005.
reunion
My father was very emotional and started crying and couldn’t look at the albums at first. I too started crying and my adopted mother started crying. But although there were tears of sadness, there were tears of joy as well at being able to find each other. My father then offered me a beer and that was the ice breaker. He seemed so happy that I enjoyed the beer. I have brought home that first bottle of Tiger beer that we shared together as a memento of such a wonderful moment. I felt an instant connection with my father, and a lot of people have commented that we look alike. We communicated through Eddie during the week, but often there were times when nothing needed to be said. These were special moments. – Julie Pearce, 20 Jan 2008.
life and luck
I consider that my life is bad but our luck at this last stage of our lives is good. You compare the flats outside to our place here. Because people outside have their own properties, while here, we are renting. It’s different. You see for yourself. Can we say it’s not good? We can’t. At this final stage of our lives, living like this, we should consider ourselves lucky. You can’t work and you collect welfare money. One month about $200, how do you make a living? Frankly, it’s not enough. But you must be realistic. You can’t work. Still say not enough, then what’s considered enough? – Chia Puay Song, 10 Oct 2005.
