hikmah Tuhan

Last night I cried again.This time I saw, in my mind, the images of Mak and her worst nightmare.

1995
I just started my semester break. Life in Shah Alam was boring, and it turned out that there was no survival camp arranged for this break. So, I went home to Alor Setar.

Mak was so happy I would be home that she made my favourite mee kari, but she didn’t know that I wasn’t that thrilled. I wanted to go somewhere or do something rather than stay at home. But there was nowhere to go.

I wasn’t happy. I was selfish. I kept thinking about all of my friends who would be leaving to the States soon. I thought about life being unfair and I deserved to be on the same plane with them. It was just not my time but do you think I care? I wanted to go now, not 4 months later.

It was all about me me me. I rebelled by sleeping late at night and waking up in the afternoon. Long after Bapak and Ateh finished their routines. Did Mak say anything? No. She woke me up for subuh and she let me sleep again till I was ready to face the day. She didn’t even know why I was behaving like that, but she let me be.

Once or twice a day, Bapak would come shaking me up but I just went further inside my blanket. The rest of the day, I just watched telly. You can say that I became a lazy bitch.

But just like Ray said, God is All Merciful; He delivered something on our door, unexpectedly.

It was 3 in the morning, when Ateh banged on my door. My room was at the back of the house near the old bathroom in the kitchen and his room was in front, closer to the hall.

He yelled at me and scolded me for tidur mati. And shocked for the first time in my life, I was confused. He stuttered to tell me that something happened.

You see, Ateh is 7 years older than me, and he has a special place in our hearts. Mak kata masa dia dilahirkan, uri dia ditanam deeper than Bapak normally did. Superstitious but God dah nak duga Mak and Bapak.

Ateh has had problem with his speech and brain. Simple things for us but for him, it has to be dealt with great difficulty. He takes some time to comprehend things and his mind works at a crawling speed. But he is not stupid. That’s the misunderstanding people had and still have about him. He’s just mentally challenged but we love him nonetheless. He’s my flesh and blood!

I could see that he was mad at me but all he said was Mak! Mak! And yelling at me at the same time, Bangun! Bangun!

I jumped from the bed and ran outside. I found Mak was lying on the floor next to the dinner table. She didn’t move and she was sobbing… sakit… mak sakit… I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. Bapak was out on his tabligh night. It was just me and Ateh.

I was shaking so badly looking at my mother helpless on the floor.

I said to her ‘mak…mak boleh bangun tak?’ She sobbed and geleng her kepala.

‘mak..cek angkat mak ya?’

‘saaakit….siti... sakit’

Ateh was stumped that all he could do was kneeling next to Mak. I could see in his eyes, he was hoping I or rather we could do something to help Mak. And he was looking at me for the answer.

What was I to do? We tried to lift her, but she was so kaku that it was impossible. And every time we tried to move her, she muttered …sakit….sakit…adooi..

I cried because I was useless. There she was, moaning and sobbing and I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t even think about calling the hospital, that’s how useless I was.

Her speech was impaired and I could see bubbles coming out of her mouth. Time and again I wiped them, but they continued flowing. I touched her face and chanted Mak…mak… mak mak…

I was rocking her and hugging her. I whispered my imperfect Yassin in her ears. In front of me, Ateh continue to urut her.

It was getting colder by the minutes, I ran around the house frantically looking for blankets to cover her up. We managed to bundle her up in selimut and with all the kudrat we had, Ateh and I carried her to the car.At 5 a.m. we drove off with hope to see a doctor. Tears were like waterfall on my cheeks because for every bump and jolt I felt, Mak had it ten times worse. She couldn’t even open her eyes because the motion hurt her whole body.

When they transferred her on the wheelchair, I prayed that they would not make her feel the pain. She was holding my hands until they wheeled her away from us. We waited for a long long time. Pacing the corridor and not knowing what was happening. At 9 a.m. Bapak finally came. We wanted to call him but we didn’t now how to reach the tabligh group. Mobile phone was only available to the rich.

It was an hour later when the doctor called both me and Bapak into his room. Bapak was an old man, so Dr. thought I should know too. Honestly, Aci or Na was the one he should talk to, not me. I was only 20 and I was about to spread my wings. I did not know the meaning of responsibility. But, grow up I must. Overnight.

He told us what to expect from a person who just had stroke. Stroke? What’s stroke? Mak got diabetes and sakit jantung but not stroke! I was confused and scared. Then I found out.

After a couple of days, she was allowed to go home but with condition she must exercise her movement and flex her muscle. She had to be cared 24/7. From then on I stopped whining about me. Instead, I said syukur to Allah for given me the chance to take care of her. I didn’t know that my delay to the States rupanya ada hikmah tersembunyi.