Every Malaysian, it seems, is talking about the rot eating away at the vitals of the nation. Many are particularly concerned about how corruption has become almost a natural state of affairs in the civil service, especially in enforcement agencies.

But not everyone is corrupt. Most civil servants prior to the 1980s, for instance, were not known to abuse their powers for self-gratification.

I was reminded of this when I read a two-volume book titled “Ballads of the Hungry Years” by engineer Abdul Rahman Hariri of Kuala Lumpur.

In talking about his late father Hariri Bab – a settlement officer who worked at the district land offices in Taiping, Kuala Kangsar, Lenggong and Batu Gajah – Rahman recounts two interesting incidents.

Once, when his mother Fatimah Zaiton Adam accepted, in good faith, a gunny sack full of seafood sent to their house, Hairiri told her to return it to the sender. She had to take a taxi to return it.

In 2002, while chatting with his mother, Rahman asked why his father, who had been in charge of land distribution in Taiping in the 1960s, had not secured even one plot for himself. Zaiton said she had in fact posed that very question to her husband then.

Hariri had replied: “Ton, how do you want me to answer when I go to my grave? I am supposed to distribute them (the land) to the poor.”

Until his death, he was very clear about not accepting bribes or misusing his authority. Mind you, Hariri had 12 children of his own and an adopted child to feed and clothe.

What a far cry from many of the civil servants and politicians today.

Firmness in upholding personal integrity was the norm in those days, as many retired former civil servants, such as those in G25, and others can attest to.

Upon hearing his mother repeat what his father had said, Rahman writes in his book, a compilation of posts from his blog Time in A Bottle: “I felt so guilty to be even thinking about it.”

Rahman’s April 21, 2007 blog post, also included in the book, about halal food, reminded me of the recent controversy over whether food prepared and given by non-Muslims to Muslim flood victims was halal.

He recounts a friend in the banking industry telling him about a colleague who asked if food they were getting from a certain bistro in Petaling Jaya was halal. The same colleague had no qualms about lying when making overtime claims.

Rahman asks: “It is fine and dandy to be asking about one’s food. But what about the additional money we get from claims that we are not entitled to? And then using the money to feed our spouse and kids? Bribes and under the table money are so common that we change its terminology to money politics so that we do not feel guilty.”

He adds: “To me, it is more critical that we ensure the source of our income is halal. We feed our families using this money. While halal food is important, if you make a mistake, it affects only you and you alone.”

I believe all right-thinking Malaysians would agree with Rahman on this.

In another blog post, Rahman shows his emotional side when talking about the brutal murder of eight-year-old Nurin Jazlin Jazimin. His gloves are off as he laments the sorry state of affairs and lambasts the police over their inability to solve this and other cases.

I believe every Malaysian parent was sad, frustrated and angry when they learned that the body of Nurin, who had gone missing after setting off to a wet market near her Wangsa Maju, Kuala Lumpur, home on Aug 20, 2007, was found stuffed inside a gym-bag and left in front of a shoplot in Petaling Jaya on Sept 17. She had been horribly tortured.

I had, in fact, poured out my own sadness in my column in the New Straits Times then.

Rahman writes in his blog entry dated Sept 21: “I had never thought I would shed tears for a stranger.”

Saying society, including him, had to share the blame for what happened to Nurin and children like her who went missing or were murdered, he adds: “All we care is how we can make more money for ourselves at the expense of society and the environment. It has made us indifferent and apathetic.

“I blame it on the government too for cultivating this materialistic culture. Politicians plunder the wealth of the nation for their own pockets – billions of ringgit. So much so that everybody now believes that each and every one has the same right, and should plunder the wealth of the nation in our small ways.”

Rahman has a point there. I believe Malaysians concerned about the rot that has set in will agree with what he wrote in 2007: that everybody now believes they have a right to plunder the wealth of the nation. The situation has only gotten worse.

Rahman, who also has an MBA, continues: “I blame it on the police that Malaysia has become so unsafe that my kids can’t walk to the pasar malam or pasar Ramadhan alone. Police should be chasing crooks and criminals, and not those who attend political ceramah. Put your resources to ensuring the safety of the Malaysian public and not the survival of your political masters. How many more children have to die?”

The death of singer Sudirman Arshad also impacted him as Rahman is a music lover. In fact, he writes about music and singers in numerous blog posts included in the book.

“Ballads of the Hungry Years”, which Rahman compiled last year and self-published this month, largely recounts his early life, his schooling, his years at Maktab Rendah Sains MARA, his studies at Monash University in Australia, his work life and his family. It is an easy read.

He writes in the introduction that the book is a “mere collection of personal narratives. The stories are mostly about anything that moved me; many of which would be insignificant to others, perhaps even mundane. These were thoughts and reflections on events that I saw, read or experienced.”

Regarding the title of his book, Rahman says: “My life was not as difficult as I make it out to be in the title. I grew up in the 60s and not pre-independence or World War 2 Malaya. I was not actually starving. It is just hyperbole.”

Rahman writes: “I took to blogging after a friend ‘cheekily challenged me’ to do so on Jan 28, 2007, 11 hours after the challenge.” However, he stopped writing in 2018.

Rahman is honest and open and some of his blog posts, compiled in “Ballads of the Hungry Years”, show a man with a sense of humour.

The first thing I noticed in the book were the copious number of photographs, especially of his family and relatives in earlier days. Many of the pictures were taken by his father with a Pentax camera and Rahman has worked on them to maintain or improve the sharpness. The pages are also interspersed with sketches by his cousins.

Because he spent a lot of time in Taiping, several blog posts about Taiping life, especially about King Edward VII Primary School where he studied for three years, are included in the book.

Rahman – who worked in several companies, including Petronas – now runs his own firm. His work has taken him to various countries. This includes a working stint in the US, where his two children – Arif and Akmal – attended school for a short span.

Rahman speaks highly of the US education system, giving examples to bolster his argument that school, at least at the primary level, is fun and the way teachers treat children is superb.

The best argument, however, comes, startlingly, from his son Arif.

After returning to Malaysia and enrolling again in a local primary school, Arif asked his father: “Abah, why are schools in Houston so nice but terrible here while KLIA (Kuala Lumpur International Airport) is so nice but the Houston airport is terrible?”

I will let you chew on that.

Those interested in purchasing “Ballads of the Hungry Years” can contact Rahman at: rahman-hariri.com or call him at 012-3832180.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.