Ramlah was no ordinary educator. She was the first Malay headmistress of a convent school in the country in 1955.

Fuelled by a passion for education and powerful personal resolve, both gleaned from Irish nuns, she worked tirelessly for girls’ primary education.

She combined stern authority with a genuine concern for individual pupils, running Convent Batu Pahat as its headmistress for 28 years before retiring as the principal of Convent Johor Bahru in 1986.

Ramlah was not mere sunshine in fostering the convent spirit and in inspiring minds and touching hearts. She steered the schools through the social rapids of the years she was at the helm, helped by an upbringing exposed to hardship, an appreciation of working class values, and a sense of purpose shaped by ambition.

Most students who fall in love with learning do so not because of any particular curriculum but because they encounter a teacher who does more than tell them they can do it.

Ramlah was the adult, girls yearned to become: confident, vibrant, and a bright light in the community.

“Teaching is a fulfilling experience, but we mustn’t forget how lucky we are to do this job even though it can be difficult,” Ramlah told FMT Lifestyle in conjunction with Teachers’ Day today.

She appeared dismayed by today’s teaching orthodoxy of low expectations, saying anyone who cares about the future of this country should question how its young people are being formed.

Lady of strength

Asked what fashioned her into a lady of substance and strength, Ramlah said she owed it to the discipline she had experienced as a convent student and teacher.

She said she grew up with the nuns and became close to them, benefitting from the values of humility, willpower, leadership and mentorship.

On whether Malay children were discouraged from getting close to the sisters, Ramlah said: “Not during my time. To the parents, discipline was everything and they were happy that we were being looked after by the nuns.

“There were a lot of Malays with me and we did not come from big towns but from villages. The parents trusted the nuns and there was mutual respect.”

She said it was an era when parents respected the teachers and believed the nuns would not cause their daughters to deviate from their faith. That trust was built upon the professionalism, competency and transparency of the nuns and the other teachers.

Ramlah said communication was not a barrier as every child spoke English, adding that many parents spoke the language as they had English bosses.

‘Tigress’ called Auntie Rom

Ramlah is until today regarded by her former students as a consummate educator and a convent-school icon. She taught every subject but took pride in helping her students become proficient in English.

Ramlah still reads many English publications, going through a book a week.

In school, she was fondly known as “Auntie Rom” for her sweetness and kindness. According to her daughter, Azlina, some students used to call her mother “tigress” because she was tough in her approach to everything education.

“I’m an only child but, even at home, every room had a cane,” Azlina chuckled. “You cannot have anything other than tremendous awe for her commitment to her family, students, and to the school.”

As a student, Ramlah learnt much about discipline. After losing three years of education to World War II, she joined the Malacca Convent as a boarder in standard four and, over the next six years, endured the firm authority of the Irish nuns.

In Peggy Loh’s book, “My Johor Stories”, Ramlah recalled a humorous account of students washing their clothes.

“Those who forgot to collect their own clothing including underwear from the clothesline in the evening would see them piled up in the school hall.

“Sister Finbar would lift each piece with a long stick and as the culprits were too embarrassed to own up and face punishment, the unclaimed underwear were given away to a girls’ orphanage.”

Muslim who built convent spirit

Born in a kampung in Bakri, Johor, in 1930, Ramlah began her education in Muar Convent, which had five classrooms in a house, but stopped school when war broke out.

In “My Johor Stories”, she related that a Catholic priest named Fr Renee Ashness had suggested to her father Mohamed Ludin, who ran the laboratory at Muar Hospital, that she join the Malacca Convent in Bandar Hilir, which offered student boarding.

In 1952, Ramlah was assigned a temporary teaching post with Muar Convent while waiting for her Senior Cambridge results.

While her friends applied to join the Malayan Teachers’ Training College in Kirkby, England, she opted out to remain close to her sickly father. But the nuns did not allow that and got her to fill the application forms, and off she went to Kirkby.

“I did not have suitable clothes but Reverend Mother Martha gave me a used coat that was warm enough for me, one dozen ‘Pyramid’ brand handkerchiefs, toiletries and $100.

“Through the guidance and kindness of the nuns, I was among the second batch of Kirkbyites who had two wonderful years of well-rounded, life-long educational experiences in Kirkby College,” she wrote.

She said two weeks before she was due to return to Malaya, Martha arranged for her to visit the Institute for Infant Jesus Sisters in Cork, Ireland.

Three months after her return from the UK, she took on the challenge to run the Batu Pahat Convent on Jalan Tan Swee Hoe.

The school started with 68 children in a small shed and storeroom, and when the new building was ready, Ramlah lived in one of the classrooms even though the electricity supply had not been connected yet.

She went on to develop the school over close to three decades.

Ramlah said: “It has been my privilege to have a treasure trove of memories with the nuns who guided me from childhood to adulthood.

“I’m ever grateful for the uncompromised convent standards of training that moulded me into who I am. And I still have some of the nuns’ habits, mainly discipline.”

Ramlah met her husband, Aris Mohammad, when they were both 13 years old, and they got married at 43. Aris, an accountant, passed away six years ago.

‘I miss you all, let’s meet’

Ramlah, who turns 94 in October, longs to meet her former students and colleagues, “ if they want to see me”.

She said while some of them still visit her “old as I am”, she would cherish a big reunion. “ I miss and love them.”

Those who wish to reach out to Ramlah can contact her daughter Azlina (012-307 7953) or this writer (019-261 4948).