They were among the quintessential, sleeves-up journalists when newspapers carved out a place at the heart of Malaysia’s socio-political life decades ago.

An oft-quoted phrase captured their purpose in journalism: comfort the afflicted, afflict the comfortable.

The brothers shone in a pantheon of remarkable journalists of Tunku Abdul Rahman’s Malaysia that was grounded in, and centered on the beginning of a young nation.

Jerry said reporters and editors at then Straits Times, later New Straits Times (NST), looked like they were on the most urgent errands in the country, using journalism to help in nation-building.

Before all that, the Francis family suffered heartbreak and severe poverty amid war and horror.

Jeffrey, 93, and Jerry, 84, have each written an autobiography, offering a glimpse into their family’s hardship and grit during a turbulent period, and their subsequent role as story-tellers.

A mother’s daily struggle

Jerry dedicated his book, “From the Shadow of the Rising Sun”, to his mother Mary Lee Yaik Kwai, who bravely confronted the troubles in war-torn Malaya to ensure her family’s survival.

He said she washed clothes, cleaned dishes, toiled in vegetable farms, worked as gatekeeper at a railway crossing and as a labourer at a cement factory, in Selayang and Batu Caves in Kuala Lumpur.

“Sometimes in her desperation, she would discard whatever was left of her dignity and stood in front of a coffeeshop to beg,” said Jerry.

Mary was forced to lift her family out of severe poverty following the untimely death of her husband, engineer Matthew James Francis, just before the Japanese Occupation.

Matthew, an Anglo-Indian from Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), died from complications after orderlies accidentally dropped him from a stretcher following a surgery to remove gallstones at the British-run Bangsar Hospital.

Mary passed away at the age of 64 in 1975, by which time her sons and daughters, Angela and Lily, had firmly embraced her wish to turn dreams into reality.

“Had it not been for my mother’s sacrifices and determination, my siblings and I could not have emerged from the shadow of the rising sun,” Jerry said.

The rising sun flag, that was carried by soldiers and raised whenever enemy territories fell to Japanese forces, symbolised aggression and war crimes.

Nasi lemak seller, goat herder, gangster to war writer

To help put food on the table, Jerry sold nasi lemak as a teenager in the morning, and worked as a goat herder every evening.

He earned about $2 daily as commission from the sale of nasi lemak, prepared by a Javanese woman, at 20 cents per packet at the Sentul Railways workshop.

Little did the kid know when he joined a village gang in Segambut with the nickname “Ah Sua”, that he would go on to report about law-breakers later in life.

It is admirable that someone who is still haunted by the memory of a human head impaled on a stake, and left to rot by a main road in Chow Kit, Kuala Lumpur, during the Japanese invasion almost 80 years ago, became a top war journalist.

In his book, Jerry reflects on how he and photographer Thomas Wong Tuck Keong, dubbed “Tom and Jerry”, covered the second communist insurgency (1969-1989), in Perak and South Thailand.

The pair became famous for their stories and photographs from communist-infested areas, particularly in Betong, South Thailand, and the security forces’ forward bases in the jungles.

Jerry said: “We had to dash through security-sensitive areas to beat the curfew and meet the deadline for stories in the days before mobile phones and laptops.

“Our extensive coverage of the operations until the signing of the peace accord with the Communist Party of Malaya in 1989 was aimed at boosting the morale of the security forces.”

Jerry had followed in the footsteps of Jeffrey who covered many events during the 12-year Malayan Emergency, a jungle war against the communists which lasted until 1960.

Jerry, crusading newsman

He is still revered for fair and thoughtful journalism through his writings for community paper, Ipoh Echo, and on social media.

Jerry is disturbed by the changes in the country’s current political and social climate, and is nostalgic for the ideals, philosophy and heroes that held sway during his early career.

His pet drive now is to get proper appreciation for the men and women who had defied attempts by the communists to sabotage the East-West Highway and the Temenggor Hydro-Electric Power Plant in the 1970s.

He said: “Never in the history of the country had there been any project that had faced such serious threats as those two projects.

“While members of the security forces provided protection and hunted down the insurgents, the workers set out daily into the difficult mountainous terrain of the dense jungle despite the dangers they faced.

“Many had lost their lives and others were injured in a number of attacks by the communists, as well as from accidents at work sites.”

Jerry, the people’s man, wants the East-West highway to be renamed “Lebuhraya Rakyat” (People’s Highway) as a symbol of how Malaysians had stood firm against the threat of communism.

“It will also be a lasting tribute from a grateful nation for future generations to remember and appreciate the long and costly struggle for freedom,” he offered.

Tears for Tony

Jeffrey, having established himself in the Straits Times, had a hand in his brothers joining him in the same media company.

“I was proud that all three of us were in the same media organisation, and every day I would look at the pages of the paper to see what the others had written,” said Jerry.

He began as a library assistant in 1959 before his cadetship two years later on the stablemate Malay Mail, where he juggled the demands of general reporting duties plus extra shifts to gain football writing experience.

Tony transformed himself from an innocent cub reporter on court beat in 1967 to become an influential sports and news mentor.

He died in 2020, aged 73, after battling lung fibrosis, leaving a legacy of thought-provoking work as sports editor and chief editor in several newsrooms.

In the preview of his book “No Time For Tears”, Jeffrey recalled the “last words that broke my heart” in an email from Tony to him.

It read: “I’m in tears now…tears for a big brother who shaped my life. You took me under your wings and moulded me to succeed.

“You are my maestro, coach, caregiver and provider. You set the pace, and I puffed and huffed to get to the finishing line. It was an epic and unforgettable journey, and one I will always cherish.”

Jeffrey said his deepest sorrow was that he could not see Tony in his last moments because of the global Covid-19 pandemic.

He quit Straits Times as news editor in 1970 and migrated to Australia, where he joined a newspaper in Perth. Angela and Lily also live in the same city.