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Acknowledgments
I could not have written this book without the two most important women in my life: my wife and my 18-year-old daughter. They have both supported me heartily in my writing. They would check my stories and would be the first to give valuable feedback. They encouraged me when I was down and made me copious amounts of coffee on demand!
I am most grateful and continue to be indebted to the first or 'alpha' readers, which includes my ten-year-old son, who helped provide honest and crucial feedback in order to make this book happen.
I thank the story contributors for this second book, in particular 'Bob', Adrina Hj Mohd Agus Din, Iswardy Morni, Wilhelm Bayona, as well as Rabiatul Mohamad and her students. I also thank the many contributors who chose to remain anonymous.
Bob continues to show me the path and provides me support in realising my full writing potential.
Finally, I thank the support of my compatriots in the Reading & Literacy Association (RELA). Together we will instill the reading and writing culture amongst our people.
Hello Again!
It gives me great pleasure to make this book 'Real Ghost Stories of Borneo 2' available to you. The first Real Ghost Stories of Borneo turned out to be quite popular, and I was compelled to write the second book, as there were a few stories that I could not include in the first book. In addition to that, I had several people who were keen to share their ghostly encounters.Most were personally interviewed by myself, whilst others sent in their submissions through social media and mobile messaging (WhatsApp & Telegram). There were times when I thought I could not make this book become a reality. I kept reminding my team and I, that ‘we had to complete the mission.’ So here we are again. If there was a theme for this particular book, then it would be 'travel and places'!If you haven't read the first book, please do get a copy - beg, borrow or steal - okay, maybe not the last option. The stories in both books are focused on supernatural encounters in the northern part of Borneo, i.e. Sabah, Brunei and Sarawak. Unfortunately, I do not have any friends or associates from Kalimantan, but that is something I am looking forward to. You will notice that the ghost sightings and experiences may differ from those in West Malaysia and elsewhere in Southeast Asia. I have some insights on why. (I wonder if you have the same speculations too.)I must warn you that several of the stories do not have happy endings, whilst others seem to have an open ending with no firm explanation. That is simply the way it was experienced and told. Perhaps the person(s) involved in the encounter may discover the true reasons and meaning in the future.This book has had a good response with the pre-order campaign. Pre-orders made this book possible and it helped bring costs down. I humbly thank you for believing in my efforts. I hope this book fulfills or beats your expectations.This book is not meant to encourage ghost hunting. Remember, it is important to 'be aware' and not bother them. Our worlds are meant to be separated, though it is clear that 'infractions' occur from time to time.Once again, I thank all the contributors for their stories, and I hope you will continue to support my efforts to record more of our stories and encounters.If you wish to share...
The Refuge of Love
My uncle Nas worked all his life in the oil and gas industry. He was one of those uncles I had considered as 'macho'. He had a long, thick mustache that somehow seemed to groom itself and he always projected himself as an immovable and undaunted character. I remember when I was 12, I had somehow asked him if he was afraid of anything. I didn't expect him to say yes... One evening in the 1980s, Nas had finished his grueling work schedule for the week and decided to go back to his parents' home. He was keen to get home, as he was quite eager to meet up with his girlfriend. However, he got distracted by his friends and ended up playing rounds of darts with them. It was already late night by the time they had finished. Nas was not a superstitious man. He wore his black leather jacket and jumped on his beautiful silver red sports motorbike, a Suzuki Katana. He loved the way the engine hummed, purred, and then roared to life as it brought him to wherever he desired.It was the start of a beautiful night ride. The stars twinkled in the black background whilst the full moon glowed brightly, luminescing on to the asphalt road. There were no streetlights back then, so Nas was very grateful for the lights. He imagined the sweet smile of his girlfriend as he sped through the white silica sand area of Tutong, famously known as 'Pasir Puteh'. His eyes should have stayed on the road in front of him, but they would occasionally wander at the white sandy area. Nas appreciated how the moonlight gave a surreal effect on the landscape, which was dotted with shrubs, bushes and a few short trees.Suddenly, the moon's luminescence disappeared, and darkness overwhelmed the surrounding land. The motorcycle’s yellow-orange light flickered for a moment. Nas revved the engine faster and the bike's light shone brighter. Nas wasn't alarmed. He thought the darkness was probably a large cloud overshadowing the area. He scoffed off any paranoid thoughts.It was at this exact moment Nas felt a force hit him. He lost control and both the bike and himself slid on the road and then crashed.Nas did not know how long he was unconscious for. He thought he was out for only a few seconds. Lying flat on his back on the white silica sand, he...
A Father's Daughter
By Amal (not her real name)The local female author of this story had chosen to remain anonymous for understandable reasons.This story is about my late father who passed away in 2016. The pain of losing him still aches to this day. I was always close to my father.You see, my father was a white 'magic' healer. He spent his life helping people and friends who had problems dealing with the supernatural. Growing up in the family, I myself was a witness to the 'work' my father had done.Over the years, my father accumulated a few 'souvenirs'. He would tell me that some of these items would have their own 'inhabitants'. My mother and I would usually get nervous every time we walked past his 'storage' area. There was an uncomfortable presence that we could feel and yet could not explain.One day, my father became very unwell. He became weaker and weaker with each passing day. Doctors could not figure out why he was unwell. They could not give us a diagnosis, let alone a prognosis. Eventually, a family friend recommended a spiritual healer to us. This was strange, as my father himself was a magic healer, and now in his time of need, we would need the help of another healer.We have never met this healer before. His name was Awang and strangely enough, he had prosthetic legs. We told him what had happened and that my father was in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) of the main hospital. Awang wanted to see my father immediately, but insisted that we stop over at our house first. The moment we arrived home and parked in the driveway, Awang acted strangely. He said he could sense something.Now, I would like to remind you that this man had prosthetic legs and was initially walking (barely) with a cane. Awang got out and ran towards the back of our house. That's right, he ran, and he was fast. My mother and I stood there in shock.When he came back, Awang explained, "I was trying to catch 'It' but it ran away."After a breather, he went cautiously around the house. It was like he was inspecting something. We watched him whilst he began asking us several questions. One of the questions he asked was whether we have been hearing children laughing and any unexplained howling. The hairs at the back of our necks stood up,...
Respect
Although he had been living in Brunei most of his life, Jon did not know much about his country. He had been busy with pursuing his studies all his life and never went out much. After graduating from the UK, he came back to Brunei and started work as a civil engineer. Jon was tall for a local man and he had Eurasian facial features, which made him stand out even more amongst his kinsmen. He had always wanted to fit in, but he never did.After living in the UK for some time, he felt the differences between his people and himself were widening. Everyone kept on asking if he was a Bruneian or not. It was getting annoying, and Jon felt that life was becoming unbearable.Somehow, he had met a group of expats who were keen snorkelers and decided to join them on their snorkeling excursions.At first, the group went snorkeling at the three small islands off Labuan island. The first was Kuraman island. The name Kuraman actually meant corpse, as the long island looked like a lying corpse. However, there was not much to see as the coral had been obliterated through years of fish-bombing and cyanide use. Cyanide was used to stun coral fish, which were later sold to aquariums.The other island was Rusukan Besar. It was a small island that you could swim around in over less than an hour. Sometimes, the water was crystal clear and at some places; the coral was vibrant. Jon and the group could see black-tipped reef sharks, which was a beauty to see. There were shoals of colorful fishes, but the current would sometimes be too strong. The boat ride back home was occasionally choppy. The third island Rusukan Kecil, which itself was much smaller than Rusukan Besar, had very few coral spots left. It was more of a place to have a short private picnic. By right, these islands belong to Malaysia and one would always have to bring his/her passport - just in case. Eventually, the group found out about a better snorkeling site, which was Pelong Rocks or Pelong Island.Pelong Rocks was no ordinary island. It was a string of large rock formations that rose out of the sea. At the centre, the water was shallow enough that you could stand in the waist-deep water, whilst the surrounding water was deep and yet clear. Hard coral lined the...
The Joggers & The Hills
Nina and Nizam, both in their late 20s, were like the perfect pair. They were both good-looking and physically fit. You could say they were both fitness freaks. They would regularly exercise together in gyms and run together at the Stadium area, with matching designer sports outfits. They considered themselves as the modern Brunei yuppies. (Young Urban Professionals). There was no doubt that Nina, herself, was very beautiful, and she knew that. Nina also knew that her beauty and her health could disappear any time, which was a source of her insecurity and anxiety. She was constantly worried that her husband would lose interest in her and leave her for another woman. She pushed herself to keep up with her husband's pace.One day, her husband got very interested in the Bukit Shahbandar Challenge, which was a 9 hill race across the Bukit Shahbandar Forest Recreational Park. One would need physical and mental endurance to compete in this difficult race. Nizam convinced a reluctant Nina to join the Bukit Shahbandar Challenge together as a couple and to train there during the weekends and whenever they both had their afternoons free.Sometimes Nina wished her husband would be a real sloth at home, especially during the weekends. However, being at home was about watching fitness videos, preparing all kinds of nutrient shakes and talking about improving physical fitness. There was never talk about having children. It was always too early to have children. He was not ready to settle down, and he convinced her she was too early to settle down too.Nizam and Nina started jogging up the Bukit Shahbandar area, doing their best not to slip on the steps. It was all about acclimatising to the terrain. After a few times working out at Bukit Shahbandar, it was time to see how far they could push themselves. Nizam kept telling himself and Nina that this was the time to find and break their limits.To push themselves harder, Nizam and Nina would listen to upbeat music with their earphones on. The idea was to drown out any negative thoughts about giving in to their fatigue.One fine afternoon, Nizam and Nina went to Bukit Shahbandar Forest Recreational Park and started their grueling run up and down the hills. They had started out running up in tandem, but Nina was distracted by her thoughts, more than usual. She had a secret she could not tell her...
The Attack
Names have been changed to protect identities.Over 30 years ago, a soldier had gone missing in the jungles of Labi. He was missing for 23 days during a military training exercise. The Search and Rescue (SAR) mission was stopped after 14 days, as there were no traces found of the missing soldier. On the 23rd day, he was found under a house in a rural village in the next district, i.e. Tutong. I found out about this incident from my patients, friends and clinic staff. One of my friends, Kyle, was a 'ranger', i.e. member of the Special Task Platoon (STP). I found out there were other strange and unexplained happenings during that SAR mission.***Captain Sarin did not sleep well during the first week of the SAR mission in Labi. There had been several encounters, including the mysterious soldier (check the first book - chapter Not One of Us) who could not infiltrate the forward base camp because they had a protection spell around it. This spell is called a guris and had been set up by one of the civilian 'specialists'. One of Captain Sarin's men kept calling them that. Essentially, they were self-proclaimed experts in the spiritual world. A number of them were actually scamsters and conmen, whilst others were 'white-hat' magicians and healers. One or two of them were, unfortunately, black magic practitioners. Yes, someone coined the term 'black-hat magicians'! Other than Captain Sarin's unit, there were other soldiers there: the 'regulars'. Most of these soldiers had been assigned to provide support and logistics, as well as to search nearby sectors of the jungle. Captain Sarin and his platoon had covered and searched their designated quadrant for the day and found nothing. No footprints and clues that would lead to the missing soldier. The tropical heat and the terrain was unforgiving. His platoon had been doing this for years and yet it was not something anyone could get too accustomed to.After a short debriefing with the commanding officer at the base camp, Captain Sarin and his men prepared for an early night. They would have to wake up very early in the morning and search a new sector.Captain Sarin was woken up by shouting and probing flashlights. It sounded like they were under attack! His men and himself jumped up and ran towards the source of the commotion. They could see faint beams of light pointing towards the...
The Welcome
Wilhelm Bayona, also known as Mr. M, is an outgoing person. He loves making new friends and helping others in need. Mr. M is an Anime fan and is a model kit collector. He was a choir singer and acted in a theatre during his college days. Mr. M now spends his time thinking of ways to conquer the universe (in a fun and crazy way) before he retires. He currently works at the Mabohai shopping complex, where he manages the property. He is also an active writer.It has been over 20 years since I first arrived in Brunei. I had taken the only available flight from Manila and arrived in Brunei late in the night. It was an exciting time, and I felt a great sense of hopeful opportunities.My newly met colleagues had shown me around my new residence. Initially, I was impressed with my new home. The building was a three-storey flat, with each floor having two apartments. In each apartment, there were 3 beds in the sleeping quarters, one for each member of my team. My apartment was on the third floor, which meant I would have a better view of the surroundings. I met up with my housemates, who welcomed me with embraces. We had shared pleasantries, but since it was already late, we kept things short and sweet. I was keen to settle in for the night and wake up fresh and ready for a brand new day.However, on my first night in Brunei, I had difficulty falling asleep. Perhaps I drank too much coffee during the day, or if I had accidentally drank coffee on the plane. I was pretty sure I was caffeine-free. Hence, I concluded it must be because of the excitement of being in a new place coupled with home sickness. I was never used to sleeping in a new place with unfamiliar surroundings. And yet, in spite of all my reasonings, I wondered if it was something else. Perhaps there was something odd about my surroundings. I couldn't put my finger on it. Eventually, I fell asleep.On the second night, having such a long day, I decided to call it a night at around 7pm. I was the only one in the apartment. With no one to talk to, I fell asleep easily. However, I was woken up by a loud knocking on the door to our flat. I looked at...
Ride to Kuching
Yusof is a friend of mine who had joined the army after his A-levels instead of pursuing a university degree. He was one of those guys you knew would join the armed forces, as he was quite a tough guy and yet had a gentle heart. He was a keen sportsman and excelled during his time as an army cadet. Yusof was quite smart but felt he needed to belong to the 'family', i.e. the armed forces.Military training was tough and rigorous. Yusof had no issues with it. He rose quickly in the ranks to become an NCO (non-commissioned officer). Yusof was focused on providing his best for his fellow brethren and did not have anything else to think about. He was single and had his youth. However, after his former classmates started graduating, getting on with their careers and then getting married, Yusof felt insecure about himself. He tried his best to occupy himself with his military work, as well as improving his fitness level through enduring discipline in physical training.One day, he was told he had to take a vacation. His commanding officer was worried that Yusof was showing signs of strain. Yusof could not refuse a direct order from his superior. He did not know what to do. He had never been on a holiday before. With no actual plan insight, he took his passport, lightly packed a small backpack and then got onto his Kawasaki Ninja sports bike. The neon green motorbike was his pride and joy. The flashy colour was simply his choice. He had no intent of showing off or wooing the girls with it. It was simply his favourite colour. He had no idea where he was going.He rode fast and hard to the Sungai Tujoh immigration post and then rode on to Miri. Having reached there with ease, he pondered upon if he should chill in Miri or go somewhere else. Yusof had never been beyond Miri. He thought he should ride on until he reached Bintulu. He rested in Miri for a night, and then the next day; he made his way to Bintulu.The roads were not perfect, but it was doable. Sometimes, the road had a number of potholes whilst at other times; the road was pebbly or rather, the gravel from the asphalt road had gotten very loose.When he reached Bintulu, he hung around the town and decided on...
1964
This story was shared by Luqman who; even to this day, is unaware that he is bound by his bitter past, and only he can choose to set himself free.It was the year 1964. Luqman was only 14 years old. Yet, he was very outgoing and adventurous. He had to be. He had to find any excuse to stay away from home as he had an abusive stepmother, who would beat him frequently and berate him for every little mistake he made. Worst of all, she abused him through food deprivation. She would feed her own children first, and made sure he watched them enjoy their meals, whilst he sat feeling hungry and pitiful. His own father always sided with his stepmother and never believed him. His father was a busy man and was never there. Nobody seemed to care for him. There was no child abuse helpline back then. No one reported child abuse to the police. In 1964, no one wanted to know about child abuse. Luqman was a very bitter child. His only solace was that he had three close friends: Abu, Salleh and Razali. They shared a commonality: a 'broken' home. Despite the hardship, they tried to have fun. They had to spend as much time away from their homes as possible. In Brunei, all forms of entertainment for children meant going outdoors. It was a time when parents could let their children out and not be worried about when they would come back. This was very true, especially with Luqman and his friends. Somehow, the children acquired their own bicycles. Their bicycles were actually abandoned adult bicycles which they had repaired themselves through guesswork and asking other adults on how to fix bicycles. Their bicycles were everything to them. It was their means of adventure and escape. The four of them cycled everywhere. Unlike now these days, there were not that many cars on the roads. The cars back then were also slow and noisy, which gave ample warning time for the young cyclists. Luqman and his three friends would often skip school and travel for days. Altogether they had three adult bicycles between them, which meant one person had to take turns sitting on the bicycle back rack, which was not comfortable, unless a small wooden board was tied to it. Sometimes, they would take turns running and racing against the other three who had bicycles....
Flash
Remember Zul in the previous book? Well, after reading this story, you are going to figure out that he is a kind of spiritual magnet.Zul, who is my mentor's nephew, lived near Junjungan village. They had a large house with a very large backyard. The jungle surrounded their house. Their nearest neighbour was a short drive away, but for Zul, it was a good excuse to use his bicycle and cycle to meet up with his neighbours.His neighbour's children cycled with him. They imagined themselves as a bicycle gang. No, not biker gangs. It was more like geeks on mountain bicycles who raced against each other by going up the hills nearby. Of course, it was much more fun to go downhill. The roads were flanked with tall jungle trees on both sides, so no matter what time of day or how hot it was, the trees would provide ample shade for them.One late afternoon, he went over to his neighbour's house, but his friends were not around. They had gone to attend a family emergency. Zul had expectations for the day. He wanted to go down the hill with his newly upgraded Shimano bicycle gears. To be precise, he wanted to test and show off his new upgrades. He decided not to cycle home, but instead he would cycle on his own. He knew that one advantage of cycling with his friends was so that they could look out for incoming cars. Zul decided he would not have to worry and he would take extra precautions by being more aware.A part of him felt uneasy about his decision, but this was easily justified by the opportunity to test out his bicycle. It was an opportunity to push it to its limits, though it would be unwitnessed.Zul pedaled up to the top of the hill. He began to appreciate the splendid view of the surrounding jungles and the houses nearby. He noticed how quickly the clouds had darkened on one side of the hill. Whilst he prepped himself for the fast sprint down, he suddenly felt scared. He was sure it wasn't because he was having second thoughts about the ride downhill. Instinctively, he looked behind him and saw a ghostly female figure dressed in white.He couldn't make out its face, as everything seemed blurred. In reflex, he pushed himself and his bicycle down the hill. He pedaled as fast...
The Seru
Iswardy Morni is a good friend of mine whom I had first met in Southampton, United Kingdom. He was studying law whilst I was studying medicine at the University of Southampton. He hails from the state of Sarawak in Malaysia. We would usually jokingly remind ourselves that we are both from the same island (Borneo).Other than running successful businesses in the health safety sector, Iswardy continues to be a passionate activist. He is the president of an NGO called Warisan Mayapada Hijau Malaysia, which is dedicated to teaching the poor and disadvantaged segments of society in growing their own food whilst advocating principles of conservation and environmental awareness. Iswardy Morni is also a PKR politician.We both had a mutual friend named Syed, who also studied at the University of Southampton. Unfortunately, Syed passed away at a young age of 25 from heart failure - at least that was what we were told. Iswardy knew Syed way before I did. There was a time when Syed shared with Iswardy about his own supernatural encounter.It was the year 2003, Syed; aged 15 years, was in a boarding school in Sarawak. Sometimes things can get pretty boring in a boarding school. During these times, Syed would wonder what it would be like to see a ghost with his own eyes.Every time he mentioned his desire, everyone would warn him not to wish for things that he may regret. And yet Syed really wanted to see a ghost with his own eyes, or at least an apparition of the ghost.One time, he confessed to his aunt about his desire. His aunt, whom Syed knew was spiritually gifted, eventually caved in to his request.She advised him to open the window during 'Maghrib' or dusk and 'Seru' it by chanting certain words to invoke the ghosts. His aunt constantly reminded him to really think about it before doing so. Once a 'Seru' has been done, it cannot be taken back and he might regret his actions.Syed did not heed to his aunt's warning. All Syed had to do was choose the time and the place. The place had to be at his boarding school dormitory. His dorm had 6 bunk beds, which accommodated 12 students. Syed's bed was on the bottom bunk near the middle of the dorm.Syed waited for his dorm-mates to be away. He did not tell anyone about his plan. He would expect...
The Longhouse
I met a woman named Evon during a sales event. I was doing a book promotion event at a local shopping mall whilst she was helping to promote her insurance company's latest offer. Evon was a very fair-looking woman. Initially, I thought she was Chinese. She turned out to be an Iban from Temburong. She had a good look at my book and shared one of her encounters in Temburong.Evon still lives in Temburong, though now she commutes between Bandar Seri Begawan and Temburong. Before she had graduated and started work, she lived in their family's stilted wooden Iban 'Rumah Panjang' or longhouse.Her grandparents, parents, uncles and aunts all lived in the same longhouse. She had lived through the transition of using kerosene lanterns to diesel generators and then finally having utility mains electricity. Living there was very communal and helped strengthen the bonds between all relatives. Chores which included cooking and cleaning were done together. More importantly, Evon could play together with her siblings and cousins all the time. The longhouse was facing the jungle, which meant that the entire family would have a splendid view.As Evon grew older and was in her teens, she would hang out with her female teenage cousins till late evening.One night, after participating at a community event or 'balai raya' in a nearby village, Evon and two of her cousins arrived home and chatted outside their longhouse.The night sky was filled with sparkling stars. The buzz of the evening had got them talking about who they fancied and the usual gossip mill. They lit and smoked their cigarettes whilst they cracked jokes about the people they met at the ‘balai raya’.When they wiped the tears of laughter from their eyes and calmed themselves down, they realised someone else was still laughing. The laughter was more like a loud giggle that quickly grew distant and softer.Immediately, the hair on the back of Evon's neck straightened up, as her cousins and her remained tight-lipped, whilst staring wildly at each other.Where was that laughter from? Who or what was laughing with them?Nobody wanted to say what their immediate thoughts were. Nobody wanted to be the one to 'cabul' or jinx everyone else. As much as they tried to not look around, their eyes wandered away from each other and towards the jungle, where the distant giggling ensued. Evon could not believe what she saw: a lady in...
Best Friends Forever
I knew Mrs. Z as she was my former Maths teacher in college. She decided to share this story with me after reading the first ghost stories book.Many years ago, Mrs. Z, her husband and her daughter Fifi were living at her parents' house in Panchor Papan village, Tutong. It was the good years when her daughter was closer to her grandparents.Mrs. Z began noticing that her 2-year-old daughter was always talking and playing by herself. At least, that was what it seemed like. Mrs. Z thought, what wonderful imagination children have.From the conversations her daughter had with herself, Mrs. Z could figure out that her daughter had two imaginary friends. A boy and a girl. The boy was named Kavalec, and the girl was named Jerry. Both were the same age as her.Sometimes, she would introduce her best friends to guests who turned up to the house. Not surprisingly, none of the guests could see her best friends.Sometimes, she would point them out, but there was nothing there but thin air. It was very amusing to most people. For others, it raised the hairs on the back of their necks and arms every time Fifi talked about her imaginary friends.Mrs. Z had expected that as her daughter grew older, her imaginary play friends would disappear. However, they didn't. Soon enough, Fifi was old enough to go to school. Fifi wasn't interested in going to school.In fact, most days, she didn't want to go to school. Her excuse was that she wanted to play with her friends. They didn't want to be away from her either, apparently.Eventually, Mrs Z moved to an apartment flat in the Capital, where she and her husband could commute easily to work. She had expected her daughter to no longer have her imaginary friends.However, Fifi would mention that they would visit her on certain days. She would usually give advance notice that she would not go to school on certain days as her friends were coming over.For example, if she said her friends were going to come around on Tuesday, then on that Tuesday, she would say she would not go to school!Neither Mrs. Z nor her husband could cajole Fifi to go to school. She seemed resistant to her father's scolding and idle threats. It was as if the friends were next to her, advising how to react to her father's anger.There were times...
Tear in the Fabric
Dr. Zara is not just a family physician colleague, but she was also my mentor in Brunei. We share many common interests and values. She is a fellow writer and in many ways; we are both activists. It quite saddened me when she decided to leave Brunei and work in England, and yet I acknowledged it was very much a necessity for her.Recently she came back to Brunei, and she messaged me to meet up. We would talk about everything under the sun, but not before I complained about her one line responses to my emails. When I told her I was writing this second ghost story book, I suddenly remembered she had told me about her supernatural experience in one of the government health clinics in Sungai Hanching.One afternoon in February 2013, Dr. Zara was finishing work. She had just finished seeing her last patient and was jotting down her patients’ notes when she was suddenly overwhelmed by a strange, unexplained sensation. She could feel as though everything in the room had slowed down.Dr. Zara stood up and immediately tried to walk out of her room. Her steps slowed down to almost a standstill, and it was much harder for her to breathe. The air turned chilly and her head grew heavier and heavier. She could feel herself being worn down quickly, becoming groggy. She was not going to fight the feeling anymore and had made up her mind to lie down and sleep on the floor! It was at this moment, an ear-piercing scream shattered her drowsiness. Dr. Zara jumped on to her feet and immediately rushed to the source of the scream.In the pantry room, which was on the same floor, a nurse curled up against the wall, all shook and crying. A healthcare assistant had also arrived to help with the situation, whatever the situation was. The nurse was hysterical, and she had to be carried out of the room. When she eventually calmed down, Zara asked what had happened.The nurse had been adjusting her headscarf on a wall mirror, which was placed parallel to a smaller mirror on the other side of the wall. The whole idea of the placement of the mirrors was so that you could check your front and back at the same time, by simply looking at the reflection of the mirror in the front mirror.The staff would usually pat themselves...
Mount Singai
One of my friends in Kuching had alerted me to the events unfolding in Sarawak in September 2018. A 22-year-old man, who was her husband's friend's employee, had been hiking up Mount Singai near Bau Town on his own and had been missing for a couple of days. Social media was abuzz with the search for the missing hiker.Sam (not his real name) a 22-year-old man, had meant to hike up the hill with his friend, Adam, on the 17th September 2018. The plan was to meet up with Adam at the main car park at Mount Singai around 8am. However, Sam had met a very beautiful woman who looked like a 'Princess' earlier. The woman had given him flowers and gestured for him to follow her. He was so mesmerised by her that he followed her without question into the jungle of Mount Singai.Meanwhile, his friend Adam waited for Sam at the carpark. After waiting for a while, Adam had sensed something was wrong. Adam could see Sam's car in the parking lot. He could see footprints that suggested that Sam had gone uphill on his own. Why would he go and do a solo hike ascend? They were supposed to go together. Adam rang his phone. Although mobile phone reception was not amazing, Sam's phone was ringing, but no one was picking up. Sam did not respond to any of the WeChat or WhatsApp messages.Adam decided he could not wait any longer, so he called up three of his other friends and they went up the mountain to search for him. They could not find Sam. It was like he disappeared into thin air.By 10am, they noticed Sam had updated his WeChat status. There was nothing specific, and it did not show any details. Regardless of that, no matter what else they tried, Sam could not be contacted at all.By 4pm, Adam and his friends reassessed their situation. They knew they could not proceed any further into the tropical jungle mountain. Eerily enough, Adam and his friends felt as though they were being watched. It was time to call for help. Adam contacted the Fire Department at 4.30pm and they initiated an official Search and Rescue (SAR) mission.The Fire department's SAR team started searching at the Catholic Memorial & Pilgrimage Center at Mount Singai. They had hoped that it would be the one place that Sam would go...
Intruder & The Conspiracy
Senior Nurse SJ was one guy I had not met for a very long time. Our moments when performing CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) or cardiac arrest calls bonded us as though we were brothers in arms. Of course, this could just be how uniformed civilians create their self-images of bravado to boost a deflating morale.Anyway, I met him again when I decided to work part-time at the Accident & Emergency Department recently. I told him about my book, Real Ghost Stories of Borneo, and pestered him about his personal experience.He was not very keen to share simply because back then; I used to scoff off any poltergeist encounters of others, and immediately blame drugs, booze, vivid imagination and syphilis. I reassured him I would respect him and his sharing.***It was the year 2001. SJ was a new nurse, and he had just been posted to work at the Sungai Liang health clinic in the Belait district.Since it was far from his (parents') home, he was allocated an apartment in the Sungai Liang village. He thought he would use the apartment when he felt too tired to drive back. He did not like the idea of being away from his family. Besides, he enjoyed cooking with his dad. Yes, that's right. His father was the chef of the house.The apartment building was not that tall, but it was the tallest building there back then. This was before the Sungai Liang Industrial Park (SPARK) and the Brunei Methanol Company had been set up. Sungai Liang village was a quiet village, where many of the residents would commute from, to work for the oil and gas companies.He had moved in for a week, but had only slept over on the first night. The rest of the nights, he drove back to his parents’ house in the Brunei-Muara district.After having to do an extra long shift and to cover another nurse's shift, SJ realised there was no way he could drive home safely. To compound matters, it was already nighttime, and it had started to rain.He decided he would sleep in the apartment. SJ was feeling nauseous. He wondered if it was his gastric reflux worsening with stress and sleep deprivation. However, when he approached the door of his flat, he could feel a chill pass through him. SJ ignored the sensation and unlocked the door. The apartment was freezing and before he could switch...
Left Behind
A nurse friend of mine told me that when the private clinic had just moved to the new location (not disclosed), the staff had noticed strange happenings. The excitement of moving to a new place made everyone ignore the signs. However, the incidences became more frequent and harder to ignore.The first time it happened was during lunchtime. Usually, the staff nurses Yuna, Siti and Nurul would stay back. They would have their packed food and eat together during lunchtime, when the clinic was closed. They would share stories and laugh at jokes together. It was their own little place and their own little moment.Lunchtime was nearly over, and it was time to clean up. The toilet was at the back of the clinic. To get to the toilet, you had to pass by three rooms, the first was the doctor's office, then the treatment room and last, was the ultrasound room, where the sonographist Lydia would perform ultrasound scans on pregnant mothers. The ultrasound room was dark, as Lydia would usually prefer dimmer lighting whilst performing her ultrasound examinations.Yuna headed towards the toilet, and as she passed by the ultrasound room, she saw Lydia standing there, smiling and not saying a word."Lydia, I see you had a bit of an early lunch break. Got to use the toilet. Talk to you later!"After Yuna came out from the toilet, she peeked into the ultrasound room, but Lydia was not there. She felt the room was colder than usual and made a mental note to remind everyone not to set the temperature of the air-conditioning too low.Yuna walked to the front of the clinic where Siti and Nurul were and asked where Lydia was. The two of them shrugged, "It's Monday today. Lydia doesn't work on Monday afternoons.""I am pretty sure I saw her just now!"Yuna could not help from being puzzled by what had happened. It definitely must have been Lydia that she had seen. Though now that she thought about it, Lydia did look a bit fairer than usual and her smile seemed different. Yuna felt a chill pass through her spine and decided not to share with the others what had happened.On a different day, Nurul, who was always the first to arrive at the clinic, had noticed the doctor was already there. Doctor Jay was sitting in her room and looking vacantly at a book. Nurul carried on...
Fisherman's Tale
Bob has been a mentor to me for many years, providing me with useful life advice. You can say he is the doctor's doctor. I would go to his house at night, though at other times, we would go to a swimming pool. In between laps, we would talk about life and our observations.I would also share with him about my interests, which included snorkeling. I was keen to bring him to Pelong rocks and the other snorkeling spots, but he was always wary of going out to sea. One day, he told me about the 'beings' at sea. He told me the 'beings' at sea were far stronger than those in the jungle. He shared with me a story of many of the sea 'people'.Ali was an old childhood friend of Bob. One day, Bob had business with Ali and had to visit his house. Bob noticed a sleek fibreglass boat in the garage, with beautiful Yamaha engines. It looked new, but the long grass had been growing by the trailer wheels. This meant it had not been used much.After the business deal discussion with Ali, Bob asked about the boat and commented on how the boat was in excellent condition. He thought it looked almost new and that it didn't look like it had been used much. Bob was wondering if it was for sale. Ali abruptly stood up and angrily pointed at Bob. He could see that Ali was holding himself back from screaming at Bob. Ali took a few steps back and then walked away to another room, leaving Bob puzzled. Bob wondered if he should leave and come back next time, but he didn't want to leave on a bad note. Besides, he had been served this cup of hot delicious creamy tea or ‘teh tarik’- it was a shame to let it go to waste.Ali calmed himself down and apologised for his outburst. He told Bob that he had only used the boat once, and had not dared to bring it out to sea again."Only once?"Ali shared the story of his first and only fishing trip.***Ali was a keen fisherman ever since he was a child. He would take out his makeshift fishing rod, and fish by the rivers, the rocks, the seaside and even the storm-drains. Ali had always dreamt of fishing out at sea with his own boat. He would imagine the...
The Twins
Original story by Mr. M.It is very strange that once I had moved out of that haunted apartment, more information about the strange happenings at that apartment become known to me. From the moment I had moved out, new friends and acquaintances would readily share their experiences and stories at the haunted apartment. I wish I had known this information before moving in there. I definitely would have thought twice or thrice before moving in.Anyway, back to the story, after I had moved out and found a new place, I started finding out more about my previous flat. I found out that the area had a history of paranormal disturbances. One of my friends used to live with her family on the first floor. She has two daughters who are identical twins. She told me they were both 'sensitive', they could see 'other worldly beings.' Some people say it meant they were gifted, but it hardly seemed like a 'gift'. It was more like a curse. The girls would cry a lot and, out of the blue, would become quite hysterical. As a mother, she often wondered sadly what the future would hold for her daughters and her family, especially when the twins refused to sleep in their own rooms, let alone stay by themselves in the apartment.Even their nanny had frequently felt spooked out, once describing that it was like being constantly aware that someone was watching them. Their nanny did not work for them long after that.According to my friend, her daughters would see mysterious shadows lurking near them. This would usually happen when they were playing on their own and no one else was there. At first, they tried to ignore it and carry on. However, when they least expected it, the dark shadows would move on their own and rush towards them, trying its best to grab the two girls.In the beginning, the shadows were taunting the girls, making them run out of the room quickly. Then it became worse. The shadows would grow and move on to the ceiling. It would then randomly branch out to all four corners of the room, like the roots of an evil tree. The girls would always rush out of the room in time before the entire room was engulfed in complete darkness. Whatever it was, the girls were convinced that it was after their souls. They would scream hysterically...
The Drive
Low, a Chinese man in his mid-forties, commuted frequently between Kota Kinabalu (KK) and Limbang. He was a farmer who would bring vegetables and farm goods from his small farm to the market and restaurants in Kota Kinabalu.A few years ago, his wife died, leaving him with his only son. Low lived with his mother. His mother had once dreamt that her son would die horribly in a car crash, which got her to constantly worry about Low's frequent trips. She had also been regularly giving donations to the local Buddhist monk. His mother would also give away food and sometimes money to the orphanages and local schools. Low would get quite irate with his mother, especially since Low was not doing too well in his farming business. His mother would tell him to stop being a miser. She said she was not happy that he was always talking about money, whilst she had to constantly remind him that she raised him to be a generous, kind man.One day, after a big fight, his mother felt unwell and had to be hospitalised. The doctors had told Low that she had a stroke. She thought she could save some money for her son and not buy her medication for her hypertension. Low broke down. He wished he had not bickered about trying to save money, and now his mother was very unwell.Low wanted to remain next to his bedridden mother, but he could not stay long in the hospital as he still had to work. He suddenly wished he had hired a delivery driver. He reasoned he had not done so as he did not trust anyone else to deliver his produce.Now, he had another problem. There was no one to take care of his 5-year-old son. He did not like the idea of leaving his son with anyone else but his mother. Low decided to bring his son with him. It would be a wonderful opportunity to spend time together, let him watch what his father does for a living. He wondered that perhaps his son would take over his farm when he grows up. Low didn't want to admit it, but he was feeling extremely sad, and he couldn't bear the thought of driving alone to KK and Limbang.On their way there, they made a stop at Lawas town. They had their late breakfast and toilet break at a...
The Crossing
I had met a middle-aged nurse who was working at a clinic in Kuala Belait town. She had shared her story with me but had wished to remain anonymous.It was back in the 1990s when she was still in her late 20s. Joanna (not her real name) was a bubbly single nurse who loved hanging around with her three girlfriends, who were also working in the same ward.When they were not working the same night shifts, they would usually go out at night and only return home when it was very late. Everybody knew everyone in Belait and it was a very safe place. This would be their typical female YUPPIE (young urban professional) night.She and her friends would chill out at the local cafes, watch the men and the boys approach them with their terrible 'pickup lines', and turn their lover-boy hopes and dreams into ashes and dust. Life was too young and too fun to be in a serious relationship.Sometimes, they had to leave early. One big signal for them to head home was if it started to rain. Joanna and her friends were not superstitious. They were practical. Nobody should be driving when it rains heavily.One fateful night, the rain that had started as a bare drizzle quickly became a full-on monsoon downpour. The wind howled vengefully at their car as they drove slowly on Maulana Road. This was the main road from Kuala Belait to Seria, where they all lived. The rain hammered relentlessly on to their small car, drowning out their loud music. Joanna decided to turn off the car stereo so that her friend could concentrate on driving. The visibility was very poor. The orange sodium lights were barely visible, but at least they knew they were on the correct path. They could see the cars in front of them crawling slowly.As they were nearing the Istana or palace, the traffic had stopped to a complete standstill. Joanna could see in front of them were about six cars that had stopped. Joanna wondered if there was an accident up ahead. She thought about the inexperienced drivers who had ended up in the local hospital (or worse) because they misjudged the rain and drove too fast. It was at that moment, in front of the first car in the traffic jam, that she saw 'it'.She gasped. She heard her friend Ayu, gasped too. Joanna didn't...
The Room
This story was contributed by Khadijah Marali, who is a 13-year-old student at SMPAPHM secondary school. She is a horror movie fan, who would always end up shouting at the television screen when one of the characters decides to go towards the source of the disturbance.In 2015, she had an encounter in Luagan Dudok village in Tutong whilst visiting her grandmother and her cousins.***I woke up feeling queasy. My eyes wandered towards the clock; 12:00 pm. I would always get a headache whenever I oversleep. I grumbled in frustration as I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. I noticed my sister was not too cheerful too as she crawled out of bed.After showering, I made my way to the kitchen, where brunch was waiting. I was about to play with my iPad, when my mother reminded me of the house rule, i.e. no gadgets when eating.The three of us had a small chat about our upcoming trip to Grandmother's house. We were not just visiting Grandmother but we were also meeting up with my cousins. After brunch, I ran to my bedroom and prepared the things for the trip. There was one thing that was very important to me: my bulky orange-cased iPad mini. I hugged it dearly before placing it in my bag.We rushed into the car, as we did our best to evade the blinding sunlight and sweltering tropical heat. The air conditioner in the car gave us relief as a reward for our mad dash. It is strange that our lives in equatorial Brunei would involve running from one air-conditioned room to another.Whilst in the car and listening to music, my thoughts drifted to thoughts of Tutong. I pondered upon the simple life in Tutong and then I thought about my grandmother and her house. My grandmother's house was really old, it was ancient to be exact. My mom and her five siblings grew up, shared their rooms; and more importantly, shared their memories together inside that house.Suddenly, my mind thought about the paranormal stuff that happened in that house. I had overheard 'encounters' other family members had. Since my grandmother's house was near the forest, I guess you could say there were a lot of 'people' in the house. That was one of the reasons why the elders, especially my grandmother, would forbid us from playing outside after sunset. She reasoned...
The Keeper
I had known Rosnah, a middle-aged lady, for at least 10 years before I had left the government service. I loved seeing her as she seemed to have the latest social news or gossip in Tutong. I would tell my fellow doctor colleagues that I was simply collecting 'societal intelligence', which may or may not affect my clinical decisions! Surprisingly her insights (and gossips) were pretty accurate. Sometimes I wish I had done a study about 'social news networks.' Before I had left, she had shared with me a story that I am sure was not unique. There were others who were in similar situations.Rosnah lived in a small village in Tutong. She shared her house with her elderly parents, her siblings, all their children and, of course, two maids. It was typical to have many family members living under one roof. There were many benefits of living in extended households. However, Rosnah's brother, Rahim, decided he was going to build his own house next to the main house. He was already a senior government officer and his wife, who was not from Tutong, was finding it a bit suffocating to not have her own privacy. Rahim and his wife had three children and were planning to have more. The family understood and consented for Rahim to build his own house. Rahim's house was a double story house, complete with a Mediterranean design, which was not appropriate for a tropical country, but it was their house and their choice of style.A year after Rahim had moved into the new house, Rahim's application to undertake his master's degree in the United Kingdom was approved. It meant that his wife and his three children went along with him, and they would stay with him for the next 12 months or so. Their house was, of course, left locked and vacant. It was accepted that Rahim's wife did not like any of her in-laws to rifle through their belongings. It was not a Tutong thing to do, but for the sake of family peace, everyone accepted that was the way things were.Whilst Rahim and his family were away, Rosnah started to notice strange things. For starts, both maids were always extremely reluctant to perform any tasks outside the house after dusk. It was getting annoying when spoilt vegetables and fruits were still in the kitchen and not in the garbage bins outside. Each...
Skylight
This story was contributed by Adrina Hj Mohd Agus Din, a passionate English teacher from Rimba 2 Secondary School.It was almost 'Maghrib' as I ushered my 2 children inside the house for bath time. They had been riding their bicycles for over an hour and I was optimistic they would both be tired enough for an early bedtime. Aden was three whilst Ayesha was one, and both were always a handful.My maid carried Ayesha in and I took Aden to the driveway to hose down the bicycles. He loved playing with water. However this time, Aden started crying as we got closer to the garden hose. He refused to walk and flopped into my arms. I thought little of it. I thought he was just tired, so I left the bicycles and carried him into the house.Inside, the house was a flurry of activity. The bathtub was filled with bubbles and the kids were happy. Dinner was always a messy affair with lumps of food ending up on the floor rather than the children's mouths. My home was blessed with so much laughter.It was almost bedtime now. Aden and I were reading on the sofa while my husband Pete and Ayesha were playing with blocks on the carpet. As Aden sang, he started laughing and pointed to the window behind us."Mama, look, that man has no face.""What man, love?" I thought he was describing the picture in his book.Aden jumped off the sofa and ran to the window, pulling the curtains aside to reveal our driveway, "That man, Mama. Hello No-face!"I panicked and closed the curtains quickly. I knew immediately what he was talking about. There was no way I was going to peek through the windows. Pete looked at me in disbelief."Time for bed!" I screamed a little too loudly and grabbed the kids' arms to go upstairs. Pete whispered that he was going to walk around outside our garden and to lock the gate. Pete opened the front door and the eerie sweet scent of flowers flooded our living room. I begged him not to go outside and we took the kids to bed.Pete and I tried hard not to show the kids how spooked we were. As the kids were finally safe in bed, I recited a few prayers and hoped we would be protected that night.In the middle of the night, Aden crawled into our bed....
The Shadow
This story was contributed and written by Nuuraaisyah Arman, a 13-year-old student at SMPAPHM secondary school . She loves to write and does artwork.Here's a story of my encounter.Rumors had it that the school was haunted. The school which I would not name was somewhere in Batu Satu in Bandar Seri Begawan. I used to study there. It was the year 2016. My friends and I were on our way to the back of the school. That place was our hangout spot, where we would gaze upon a field of long green grass. There was also the old toilet, and it was apparently a haunted place. We were either brave or did not care at all that we would plop down on the grass and did our own thing.Everyone said it was haunted but none of my friends and I had ever had such an encounter. I guess it just meant that the place was our exclusive spot.We did what children our age did. At least the ones with no electronic gadgets. We would look for insects and tumble into the long grass. We would roll ourselves onto the grass until we found patches of fungus. We were at least smart enough not to roll over the patch of fungus, though one of us would always try to push the other into it.We also had our role-playing games. My favorite was the one where we would look for the well that was said to have a corpse at the bottom. It was an urban myth that became our role-play game story. Luckily, we never found that well. We would also play pretend as if we were in a kingdom or sometimes a cemetery. It was fun and that was our adventure time.One day, as we sipped our sweet cordial drinks and munched on our candy bar snacks, we all agreed we were quite bored. For the past hour, we had been gossiping about stuff in school (like what we always did). We did our usual short silly games like the staring contest, truth or dare, wrestling and more. And yet we felt unsatisfied. We were so bored we even picked flowers and exchanged it with each other. My friend, Adibah, suggested a new (and yet old) game, "Hey, let's play hide and seek?" What a wonderful idea, we all thought.After playing a few rounds of hide-and-seek, Haziyah became the seeker. She...
The Car
Rashid would never forget the year 1986. It was the year the Space Shuttle Challenger (a spaceship for those who don't know) exploded. It was the year his youngest brother was born. It was the year his family had gotten that car.His father, Tamin, had bought a car, which was an Audi 90. It was a second-hand car, sold at a bargain price. It was an exciting feeling to have a German car. You could say the family felt privileged. His father had bought a sports saloon car which was beige or brown in color. It had all the cool features and as a 10-year-old kid; he was very impressed. His 5-year-old brother was also impressed with the car.His mother, who was heavily pregnant then, was not happy with the newly acquired car. She was very suspicious that the car had been sold at such a cheap price by an owner who seemed keen to get rid of it. She asked Rashid's dad to have it inspected in case of any serious faults, but the mechanics said it was in perfect condition.1986 was the start of Tamin’s difficulties. He had built up debt in building a house and was constantly arguing with the construction company who was trying to swindle him. Tamin worked in the construction industry, which gave him much insight. He didn't think the company would try to cheat him because of his background. Rashid's father, who was an inspirational man in his childhood, became an ill-tempered person to everyone, including his own children. Rashid and his brother had to be careful about what they say and do. Otherwise, they would get a thorough scolding, or worse.Their joy with the new car was short-lived. Rashid's father began having minor car accidents. He would bump into streetlights and have parking accidents. He had a few accidents on the road with other cars too. The damage was cosmetic as it had always happened at slow speeds, but it stressed Rashid's parents further as it meant more expenses, which was not good whilst his father was already heavily in debt to the banks.One evening, Rashid's father and mother had gone to a family function. Rashid and his brother stayed at home with the family maid. On the way back, his mother had suddenly screamed out loud. His father got shocked and brought the car to a screeching halt. Luckily, there were...
The Kem
In the late 80s, Paddy and his friends became involved in the family side business, which was setting up tents for functions. These function tents were nothing like the marquee or the trendy tents available now these days. The tents were large and were set up by aligning heavy steel frame brackets at the top to form a rectangular shape and a bare roof structure which was then covered by a heavy green tarpaulin. The sides of the tent structure were bare, which meant a cool breeze. Or if the guests were unfortunate, then rain would enter.Metal chairs with hard plastic seats were arranged inside and a makeshift table was set up in the middle. The food would be arranged here for the guests. Later on, the metal chairs were replaced with plastic chairs. Rumours had it that a fatal brawl forced these changes.The tents were used primarily to cater for guests at wedding functions. At other times, the tents were for funeral functions (doa arwah or tahlil) or thanksgiving prayer functions (doa selamat).There was massive demand for these tents and it was lucrative business in Brunei. These were jobs that Paddy and his friends carried out after school. They would haul all the components of the 'camp' or 'kem' (as they called it back then) into a long pickup truck. One of their friends was old enough to drive and he became the designated driver. Together, they formed a crew or a team. The family business had three teams, which allowed them to set up at a few locations in one night.The job was very manual. It involved lifting the heavy metal bars together and assembling them to form the structure, whilst securing the meeting points or joints with rope. This was a precaution in case the weather turned out to be gusty.The only safety equipment Paddy and his friends had were large oversized gloves, which they had to use to avoid getting metal (and rust) splinters.It was fun to be with his friends at that time. They were together at work, setting up their ‘kem’ or tents, disassembling them the next evening. Of course, they went to school together and slept during classes together! It was their own brotherhood; they often joked around during work whilst smoking their cigarettes. Best of all, they got paid good money for what they saw as little manual work.One evening, they had...
The Calling
Azrin was 22 years old when his father decided he should take up some responsibility with the family business, which was a small restaurant cafe in Beribi. His father had intentionally challenged him by lamenting out loudly that his youngest son did not understand commitment and would find any excuse to get out of the new job. Azrin immediately knew he was being emotionally blackmailed. He now had to prove to his father that he could commit to a job no matter what the conditions were, especially if he wanted to have a better future role in management.It was, by right, an easy job. His main role was to supervise the staff in the cafe. In addition to that, he would have to indulge in Public Relations (PR), which was essentially to pick up the occasional short banter with customers. He loved this part because it elevated his prestige. He would tell customers he was the owner of the cafe, without mentioning his father's sweat, blood and tears in setting up the establishment. More importantly, there was a task that only a trusted family member could do, which was to check and tally the daily earnings and then deposit that into the night deposit bank facility. This was done after he closed and secured the restaurant cafe every evening. The hours were long and he would have to wait for everyone to be done every night. By the time he got home, it was usually 12 midnight.The initial rush and delight of the job quickly faded away. He yearned for the day his father would say there was an opening for him at the main office. He had only been in the job for two weeks and already he was regretting it. He could not complain to anyone, otherwise it would prove his father was right.One evening, there was an incident involving a brawl at the restaurant cafe. There was no damage but the police had been called and witnesses were questioned. Azrin was not happy about this as it meant there was no business for a few hours and he could not close the restaurant and go home until the police had gone and everyone had settled down.By the time everyone had gone, Azrin was very upset and started cursing about the job. He grumpily counted and then deposited the cafe's earnings. He was keen to go home so...
The Fitting
Although I had no longer worked at the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), I would stay in contact with my former colleagues, whom I considered as my brethren. We often exchanged stories of our work experiences. They were keen to hear what I was doing in my life as a family physician. The stark differences between our current careers frequently caused us to ponder upon the career choices we made. One story they shared with me was about a patient who had an unusual medical situation.Sham (not his real name), was a young 24-year-old engineer, who like most men in Brunei, loved to play football.After work, he would meet up with his usual posse and they would play football at a local field. The football field had bright lights installed, which allowed them to play until 9pm.One strange evening, in the midst of an exciting game, Sham confided to his friends that he did not feel his usual self. He said he felt unwell, and yet he felt as though there was someone else with him. To be precise, he used the phrase 'inside of him'. Soon after that, Sham felt he was engulfed by a darkness and lost consciousness, collapsing onto the soft ground. His friends saw his entire body shake violently. They had never seen anything like that before. One of his friends muttered that it must be an epileptic fit. However, those who knew Sham very well knew he did not suffer from any ailments, let alone epilepsy. He was supposed to be as fit as a fiddle. And yet there he was having uncontrollable and continuous seizures.Even when the paramedics arrived, the violent shaking of his body did not stop. When he was brought to the Accident & Emergency (A&E) Department of the hospital, the doctors there used all kinds of medication at their disposal to stop his fits. However, nothing worked. He had been fitting for more than an hour. Sham's parents and loved ones had formed a large crowd in the A&E department. Everyone was anxious and worried about Sham. He was a well-loved fellow and no one thought he deserved to be this unwell. The doctors from the ICU were called. These interventionist doctors were the last line of hope. They promptly administered strong sedatives to induce an artificial coma. They passed a special tube down his throat so as to protect his airway whilst he...
The On-call Room
A few doctors who have had to work overnight at the hospital in Kuala Belait (KB) town shared with me their encounters with a particular 'on-call' room.The hospital doctors who are posted in KB town are usually expatriate doctors. They have to stay at the allocated hospital (on-call) rooms until permanent housing becomes available.On other occasions, physicians from the other districts have to work there to replace the usual doctor who is either on vacation, sick leave or is awaiting for their new working contract. Since on-call work or work after hours extends through the night and until the next day, they provided the doctors with an on-call room for them to rest and sleep.One story I was told came from a physician who has since left the country.Ramy was an Indian expat physician who had just arrived in Brunei. It was his first time being in Southeast Asia. He had been told that he would be posted at the KB hospital. Ramy didn't know much about Brunei and had no idea where Kuala Belait town was. He thought it would not make much of a difference where he was working as Brunei is such a small country (compared to India) so it must be the same conditions everywhere.Since his government housing had not been arranged, he was given residence at the hospital on-call room until the proper housing arrangement had been finalised. He was told it would take several weeks.He thought the on-call room looked reasonable. It was not too shabby. After all, he had worked in places that were far worse. The on-call room was situated at the edge of the hospital grounds, which was good, as it gave him privacy.Ramy made sure he kept himself busy as he didn't want to be on his own. He was worried he would end up feeling homesick, as he was already missing his family. Although his work burden was much less than in other busy hospitals, he found the hours were quite long and lonely.Occasionally, when he entered his on-call room, he would notice subtle oddities, as though something was displaced, but he could not figure out what it was. Perhaps he was too busy to be bothered by it then. Sometimes, when he entered the room after a long shift, he would notice how cold it was. Other times, he heard voices of people talking. He dismissed that and...
Teluki
One of my readers had suggested that I write about the ‘Teluki’. She herself hailed from Ukong Village in Tutong, and although it was her suggestion, she was reluctant to talk about it. I thought this was a very strange behaviour. I wonder if it was because she was afraid of 'cabul', i.e. conjuring the spirit through talking about it. Anyway, she suggested I look up on YouTube for a video about it. Some guy had made a short low-budget movie about it.That some guy turned out to be my friend, Abdul Zainidi. Abdul Zainidi is a film-maker, who usually makes 'shorts' or short movies and he has appeared in the Cannes film festival and is frequently invited and involved in film festivals all over the world.He made a short low-budget movie called ‘Teluki’. Armed with a handheld digital camera, he interviewed those who were involved and then filmed a separate movie.The original story differs from the movie, as it was adapted as per request from the families as well as to suit the (zero) budget of the film. I would recommend watching it.The Youtube url can be found at the end.Abdul Zainidi told me that his grandparents were the ones who first told him about the incident involving the ‘Teluki’ spirit.His grandfather has had the 'sight' ever since he chopped down a large tree deep in Ukong jungle. At that time, he did not know the tree was the home of a temperamental 'Bunian' or jungle spirit. He had also suffered from a (cardiovascular) stroke, which affected him on a daily basis. He was able to see the ‘Bunian’ jungle spirits from time to time whenever he entered the jungle.Abdul Zainidi's grandmother was born 'gifted'. She could see the spirits within the vicinity and from a different locality.This is their story.***It was 1992. Ukong village is a village deep in the rural Tutong district of Brunei. The village was known for its sago production, which was slowly growing against the dense and thick jungles of Ukong.One evening, villagers had noticed that the night was not as dark as usual. In fact, it had a pink hue in the night sky. There was little light pollution in the rural area, which made it even stranger. Locals would say it was not a good omen.The next day, three children from two families were playing near the edge of the jungle, which...
