Heart of Borneo

M.Amanullah

The wafting wind by the beach was refreshing, the gleaming sunlight splintered through the window as Onays Mukarram, pondered outside the Vellfire car. This was Onays frist visit to a nation that he had never heard of will be unveiled by both eyes and ears. This very moment, he shall discover its resplendent surprise just across the border.

The Vellfire car made a curve and entered into the immigration checkpoint. His Uncle, the driver as well who was Tariq Ziyad had willingly decided to bring him on the vacation to Brunei The Abode of Peace.

“Yow, Naiz… give me your passport.” Said Tariq, clicking his fingers at Onays.

“It’s fine, I have all the passports with me.” Aunt Khairina, wife of Tariq had cleared.

Braking by the stall, the immigration officer popped his head out, glaring into the driver and passengers. He received the passports, verified them scrupulously and stamped them. Handing over the passports, he gave a gleeful smile and nodded them goodbye.

For the first time, Onays saw the transition between Malaysia and Brunei. He scrutinized the immigration complex that had posters which restricts foreigners to bring in shrimps into their land. Onays wondered. Turning around, the Vellfire skimmed up the endless highway. Onays pressed his face against the window, a large sign wrote Selamat Datang ke Brunei Darussalam. Only then, Onays fathomed that he had traversed into a new realm, filled with the unexpected and hidden secrets that awaits him.

For hours, Onays was killed off by the boring sight of thick rainforests along the highway and how isolated the highway was with him and both his relatives in the Vellifre car. He was impatient to see buildings for once in the journey. After the long venture, the muezzin call of the Azan reverberated in the air and Tariq had decided to stop by the Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque.

The mosque was intricately structured to have golden domes with its white-blemished walls. Combined with Mughal-Malay architecture, its magnificence dominated the skyline. Complementing it, there was a serene artificial lagoon with a bridge connected to the royal mahligai barge which is garnished with sharp traditional detailsa to commemorate the day of the Nuzul Quran.

Hoisted aloft in the sky, guarding the entrance was the Bruneian flag in royal yellow, stripes of white and black that ran diagonally and the red coloured coat of arms in the center. Descending the car, Onays made it toward the stairs and removed his slippers. The overall mosque was bland, it looked like a surau that he could find elsewhere back in Peninsular Malaysia.

Before performing his ablution, Onays treaded to the toilet to urinate of course after such a prolonged journey from Miri. He shifted his motion around the row of sink, and reached the closest toilet stall.

“Hey… what was that?” questioned Onays to himself. He heard a faint giggle in the toilet. One of the door had suddenly creaked, Onays began to feel his heart pounding tenuously. He entered the toilet stall, locked it and dropped his pants. The recent voice haunted him.

“There can’t possibly be ghosts here in a mosque.” Onays concluded. “Oh shoot!” the giggling grew audible. Onays immediately released the last volume of urine, his instincts telling him to be quick.

Zipping his pants and flushing the toilet, Onays rubbed his stomach as a sign of relief. As he oscillated his body backwards, a teenage-girl about the his age was peeking above the door with her lips stretched from both ends of her ears.

“Woi!” Onays blurted. “What the heck are you doing here in the male’s toilets?”

The girl gave a balmy giggle and answered. “Nothing, I got bored I guess.”

“Scram get away you stupid girl!” Onays’ face blushed, he hoped that she has not seen his micro-sized bird. Onays was a scraggy, unkempt kid. He is too lazy to comb his hair and left it looking like bowl haircut. He has bristles under his chin and you could discern his thin sideburns that bends along his jaw. He wore a cheap sweater from the pasar malam, and a fake G-Shock watch. The only expensive item on him was his shirt that his cousin had bought for him from Sydney, Australia.

“Scram off, you shouldn’t be here.” Onays continued to bleat in enmity, his emotions taunting her.

“I need you to help me please. I’ll leave you with one condition.”

“I’m not helping some random girl who had stalked me doing my private… business.”

“Fine I’ll leave.” The girl rebounded off the door and vanished.

Onays blinked his eyes rapidly, the annoying presence of the girl made him placated. When he imagined the awkward situation he had experienced, he was able to catch a glimpse of the girl’s face momentarily.

Even though the girl was harassing him, but she was voluptuous. She had round, perfect eyes, her skin looked silky-smooth and fair. Worn around her face was a traditional scarf in dazzling yellow. Her lips matched the stunning shade of the roses, how her warm smile made Onays kept his mind lingering. Her scent tickled his nose, the lucrative smell of perfume was addictive.

Dashing out the toilet, Onays performed his ablution, went for the prayer hall and prostrated to Allah. Uncle Tariq was already gaping at him with an unsatisfied look, crossing his arms as he sat by the wall.

“Hurry up Naiz, you’re so slow!”

“I’m sorry. I’m praying now.”

Completed with the prayer, Onays rubbed his body for how frosty it was in the mosque. Trailing Tariq and Khairina into the Vellfire, he peeked around the mosque if the girl was still around. He regretted for scolding her. Well, he had to scold her but he was too rough. The Journey around Bandar Seri Begawan was awfully boring for him. The car passed by Kampong Ayer which is the Venice of the East where house made from stilts were built on the a large bay. Bored, he pulled out his smartphone and texted his friends.

“Naiz, you should be enjoying the scenery while you are in Brunei!” Khairina had interjected.

“There’s nothing to see but the rainforests and some old houses!” Onays replied.

“Learn to appreciate nature Naiz, you might not come here again you know. Your father paid 500 ringgit for your flight.”

“Yeah, fine…” Onays admitted, replacing the smartphone into his pocket.

“If rainforest and buildings aren’t that interesting for you, then we are arriving at the Malay Technology Museum”

They parked the car and pelted to the front entrance. The building was in white, it had orange traditional roofs supported by thin columns on the walls. Embellishing the surroundings were vegetation of bushes, and small trees. Upon entering, he saw a woman in a tudung with a skinny man unloading cater meals from the van.

There were myriad numbers of fried chicken in steel platters, rice and other dishes with simmered fish with gravy that he had never seen before. The fee to the museum was free and Onays savoured the 100 percent discount off. In the first section, he saw the painting of the Sultan of Brunei, Hassanal Bolkiah. He had seen him on the Bruneian Dollar before he had visited the country. One of the wealthiest individuals on earth.

“Snap a photo of me!” called Onays out as he gave his smartphone to Tariq.

The trio of visitors who had examined other paintings by local Bruneians went to the staircase for more exhibition. Tariq and Khairina was already inches away from Onays as he was busily still looking at the paintings. Onays jogged to reach them, but then he had halted. A soft hand had grappled his. The skin of the person who had delicately held his hand felt so smooth and soft.

As he checked to see what had been tugging him from moving, he was aghast by who it was.

“You again?” Onays muttered.

“You have kept me a promise.” Said the pretty girl that Onays had met back at the toilet.

“I never kept you a promise, you weird… girl!”

“Yes you have, and you must help me fulfill it, one way or around.”

“Let go off my hand!” Wept Onays, pretending to signal her that her hands were dirty and rough.

“Onays, why are you talking to yourself!” Tariq hollered from the staircase.

“This girl, she’s so annoying!”

“I don’t see any girl Naiz. I bet not a single girl will get close to a kid who has pimples, skinny and always fail his Add Math. Stop wasting time and get up here!” Tariq complained candidly.

Onays nodded as he returned to the girl. “What’s your name?”

“I am Puteri Anissa, daughter to the throne. You must be Naiz.”

“Whatever, Anissa. Being part of the Royal Brunei family doesn’t mean you can force anyone to do your dirty work. Even a foreigner like me.”

“What is this Royal Brunei family?” Anissa smiled cutely at Onays.

Onays was defeated by her smile in which he thought was flirty. He shook his head and answered. “I’m not an idiot okay. Please, I don’t want to get involved with your family matter or anything related to politics.” He abruptly left her and trudged up the stairs leaving Anissa speechless.

On the next few gallery, Onays read every pinned information that exhibits statues and crafted structures. Onays learnt many authentic and genuine information about Brunei, ranging from their culture, to arts and traditions. He saw one glassed exhibition that showcased the bubu, which is a fishing instrument used. It resembled a cylindrical basket made out of rattan.

He even examined a few statues wearing unkempt clothing that an angler would wear from a calescent day at sea in their white-damp shirt and ripped trousers. They seemed to be sprawling a net over, while another was jousting his spear. Rimming the gallery were stilt houses built above the sea. Onays overheard one of the tourist guide explaining toward the Vietnamese guests that these houses could be found at Kampong Ayer.

Later, Onays and his relatives proceeded to the next floor where they discovered another part of Brunei. The people here in the past did not only live on water but on land. There was a balance between the two elements. There were several wooden houses with straw roofs. They were elevated above ground to avoid wild creatures from intruding their accommodation.

Statues of those nenek and atuk were seen slaying chickens, rearing goats and smelting iron in the furnace. There were some of the statues that were sewing clothing and mending tools out of rattan. The last floor that they passed was a gallery of copious, unique armaments, muskets, coins, keris daggers and floral vases. Onays scrutinized each of the ornamental objects, displayed for his quirky vision.

“I would be so happy if you could retrieve that golden crocodile for me.” Anissa interrupted.

“For the sake of peace!” Onays whined. “Please, can I have solitude once for a while?”

“I cannot leave you unless you fulfill my wishes.”

“I’ve never promised you anything!”

Anissa’s adorable gesture soothed Onays, her beautiful eyes were piercing his fragile heart. “It’s still a no.” she added.

Khairina began slapping Onays shoulder, it startled him. “Keep down your voice. We’re in public area!”

“She won’t stop bothering me, ever since we were at the mosque!”

“Don’t make silly excuses Naiz, I don’t see anyone here but yourself.”

“She’s right.” Tariq intervened into the embroiled conversation. “You need to do some explaining now.”

Onays sighed. “She’s right here, with that evil smile beside me!” Onays tried with all his labour to convince his uncle and aunt.

“You’re having homesick aren’t you Naiz. Probably the long journey gives a lot of stress. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some panadol pills at the pharmacy later.” Aufa assured.

“You have to believe me, she’s right here!”

“That’s enough Naiz, no more shouting in the museum.” Tariq gave his final word.

“This is all your fault.” Said Onays, blaming Anissa. “Why can’t they see you? Are you plotting with them?”

“Of course not Mawang.”

“Did you just call me Mawang?”

“Yes, Mawang was my favourite pet ocelot that I found as a baby in the rainforest. Your voice reminds me of him.”

“You can call me Bawang, Ikan Bilis or Roti Canai or anything but for the last time… Leave me alone… I beg you.”

“Complete my task first.”

“What if I won’t?”

“I will follow you until you will give up.”

“Hah, It’s a good thing I’ll be staying here in Brunei for only a week!”

“Look what I have.”

Onays’ eyes widened, clouded by the barrage of terror as he witnessed his smartphone in Anissa’s hand. He pointed his index finger at her, demanding her to return it. She ignored it, as she sprinted off, stealing his smartphone. Onays raced off from his spot, rallied through the gallery, his stomps shook the surrounding.

Stampeding just by the staircase, he throttled down trying to grasp for Anissa. He clung his hands out, but Anissa had escaped the attempted. Landing on the ground floor, Anissa swerved out of the museum. Onays who was unable to control his speed crashed into a large trolley packed with food, and all the servings splashed onto the paintings, the floor and the walls. He crawled over the gravy, licking some of it on the tip of his nose.

The marching Tariq and Khairina were unpleasant as their faces raged in steaming red. Onays smacked his forehead for his demise and absolute downfall.