She is trying to do the best she can as a single mother of three children.

Aziah, 29, appeared a strong figure when met at the Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia Medical Centre in Kuala Lumpur, where her three-month-old son was warded in the High Dependency Unit for breathing complications.

On March 2, 2013, VAT 69 commando Zulkifli, 29, was killed in a shootout with Sulu intruders in Kampung Tanduo, Lahad Datu, Sabah.

Aziah described her late husband as a very patient man.

“He was very friendly with everyone, and not the sort to pick and choose his friends,” she said, adding that while Zulkifli was soft spoken, he could also be firm when he needed to be.

Aziah said her husband was a very active person, and when not working, would always find something to occupy his time, such as jogging, motor biking, or mountain climbing.

“I used to sometimes ask him, ‘You are always working, can’t you sit still?’ He never felt tired!” recalled Aziah, who lives in Perak.

Upon hearing of his deployment to Lahad Datu, Aziah was initially hesitant about allowing him to go but relented when told how important the mission was.

“When he was sent to Sabah, he had just returned from Sarawak on another assignment. I asked him not to go to Lahad Datu as I was unwell. I did not know I was pregnant then,” she said.

Although Zulkifli looked heavy-hearted to leave, Aziah could also tell that her husband was determined to assisting his comrades in combat.

“He told me that it was not easy to get assigned for the mission because everyone was fighting for a chance to go. He said he was lucky to have been chosen,” she said.

“When I asked him to take a break from work, he said that he would take a rest after his mission. He told me that we would go on a holiday after he came back,” said the secondary school teacher.



Source: The Star Online

“As the wife of a policeman, I trusted my husband’s ability to carry out his duties even though I was also aware that his job was not an easy one,” said the widow of Semporna Special Branch chief ASP Michael Padel.

ASP Michael was one of six policemen gunned down during an operation at Kampung Siminul, Semporna.

Michael, 35, was born and raised in Sarawak. He was promoted as the head of the Semporna Special Branch a few months before his last assignment.

Although it had been more than a decade since ASP Michael and she were married, the 34-year-old Jabah vividly remembers the first time she met her husband.

“It was in 1998. At that time, he had not yet joined the police force and was still a teacher in Kuching. I was working part-time in a restaurant while studying. When he first approached me, I was a bit hard-hearted and ‘jual mahal’ (played hard to get),” recalled a smiling Jabah.
“A few months before his death, we celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary by renewing our vows. He asked me to marry him again in church. We exchanged rings and wore wedding attire. It was a very romantic moment; he was a very romantic man,” she said.

“A while back, while I was cleaning out boxes, I found a Valentine’s card from him from 1998. Rasa sedih pun ada, lucu pun ada (It was sad, but it was amusing as well).”

Jabah said that she had opted to become a housewife because her husband wished for her to be at home with their son, Macluie.

Although Michael was by nature a cheerful man, he behaved strangely very soon after his 35th birthday.

“At first, I didn’t take much heed of it. During our anniversary in September, he kept mentioning his old schoolmates and went about repairing whatever was broken in the house,” said Jabah, her expression visibly more solemn.

“He brought our son out to the movies very often, sometimes three times a week. He even called his family every day in Sarawak. He usually calls often, but never like this.”

On the day he left Tawau for Semporna at 5am, Michael’s change of behaviour was at its peak, she said.

“He was uncharacteristically sad. He kept getting in and out of the car. He looked anxious as if something was troubling him deeply but he assured us that he would return home.

“When he gave me a goodbye hug, I saw that my husband was crying. If my husband was shedding tears, what more my reaction as his wife?” said Jabah.

While in Semporna, Michael would call home five to six times a day and sent messages frequently.

“There were always texts asking how we were. It was unusual, it felt like we were dating again, the amount of times he contacted me.

“On Friday, when (ASP) Zulkifli (Mamat) was shot (in a gun battle with Sulu gunmen in Kampung Tanduo, Lahad Datu), my husband asked about our son and told me he would not be coming home that day.

“The last call I received was at 3pm on the day he passed away. He told me not to worry and asked one of our friends to accompany and check on me at home. A few hours later, he was shot and all attempts to reach his phone failed,” said Jabah, adding that she had no idea what was happening at the time.

“I felt very alone as I was away from my hometown (in Simunjan, Sarawak) and only had my son with me. Throughout the night, I kept wondering what happened to Michael and praying that he was all right.”

The officers who came to inform Jabah of her husband’s passing had difficulty delivering the news.

“On Sunday midnight, a large group of officers arrived at my house and told me that my husband was injured and warded at the hospital. I felt uncomfortable, and my instinct as a wife told me something was amiss,” she said.

“The officer who delivered the news of my husband was crying. The wives of the policemen also cried, as they did not know how to break the news to me. There were many of them, I can’t remember how many now. All I know is that I fainted when they told me of his injury. Deep down, I knew that if he was only injured, there would not be that many officers at my doorstep.”

Her son was the one who consoled her.

“He told me ‘Daddy is only hurt, don’t worry’,” she recalled.

A year after his passing, Jabah said that not much has changed in her and her son’s lives.

“My friends say it has been a year and I must move on, but perhaps it is hard for me because I was not redha (at peace) with his passing,” she said.

Jabah’s son is her rock during these difficult times, always reminding his mother to continue on with life despite their sorrow.

“He is a very strong boy. He always tells me that we cannot continue to be sad,” she said.

“My son and I have our own ways of dealing with grief. When he sees me sad, he asks if anything is wrong. I always answer ‘nothing’. When I see him sad, I ask him the same question. He gives me the same answer.

“He hides it well, but I know he is troubled. After all, we are both going through the same thing together,” said Jabah.

Even though the family has lost a father and a husband, Jabah feels proud of Michael’s sacrifice and believes that his death was not in vain.

“I tell myself that God will not test us if we are not strong enough to bear it. He will not test us if He does not love us,” she said.



Source: The Star Online

“I texted him, asking ‘How are you? Are you ok?’ He replied at 3pm, ‘Alhamdulillah, I am fine’. An hour or so later he called me and asked that I pray for his safety,” recalled the 40-year-old Sabahan.

“I told him I was worried about him and to always remember that there are loved ones at home waiting for him to return. That was the last conversation I had with my husband.”

Salam was among six police officers killed by Sulu gunmen during an ambush in Kampung Simunul, Semporna, Sabah on March 2, 2013.

On the night of the ambush, Marlinah was at a surau in Tawau with other members of Perkep (Association of Policemen’s Families).

“We were having special hajat prayers to ask for the safety of those stationed in Sabah and tahlil prayers for the late Insp Zulkifli Mamat and Kpl Sabaruddin Daud (VAT 69 commandos killed in Kampung Tanduo on March 1, 2013),” said the homemaker.

After prayers, Perkep members received word that policemen were attacked in the Kampung Simunul operation.

“It was then that I started getting frantic as I knew my husband was in Semporna. I shouted, ‘Help! My husband is there, my husband is there!’” she recalled.

Coincidentally, one of the officers’ wives, who had family in Semporna received a call from where the policemen were fighting with the gunmen.

The call was put through loudspeaker and gunshots echoed throughout the room.

“As they tried to calm me, more news arrived that a few of our men had fallen. I kept on asking for their names, in between tears,” recalled Marlinah.

“When they answered ‘Tuan Michael (Padel),’ it was as if I lost control of myself.

“I knew my husband was one of the fallen even though no one explicitly told me. I knew because wherever Tuan Michael was, my husband was sure to be beside him. They were very close friends,” she said.

Looking back at the past year, Marlinah hopes to never again experience what she did that night.

“It was torture, waiting and waiting for news about my husband. I contacted the police station, I called everyone but not a single person could tell me that my husband was no longer with us,” she said.

At 3pm the next day, Marlinah received a call from an officer from the Special Branch. He told her to wait for him at her home.

“By then, I had lost all strength. When he finally arrived, the officer brought my husband’s clothes from Semporna. It was then that I lost all hope of finding my husband alive.

“When I received the news that he had passed away but his body could not be brought home at the time, my heart broke. I hugged my children and tried to give them strength as best I could but my children had difficulty accepting it.”

Marlinah’s eldest son took the news especially badly because the 16-year-old boy had promised to be the one to lead his father’s funeral rites.

“My husband told my son that when he died, he would like my son to be the one to give him his last bath, to do the jenazah prayers and to lay him to rest in the grave. My son was sad, because he could never fulfill that promise. How could he, in that condition?" she asked.

A day before Salam’s death, the family had been watching news on television when there was a report that Zulkifli was killed in Kampung Tanduo.

“My husband told me, ‘Kalau macam ini, saya pun nak!’ (If this is what it is like there, I also want to be a part of it)," she recalled.

At the time, Salam was not yet assigned to Semporna and Marlinah had no notion of what was to happen.

“I was angry then. I said, ‘Don’t speak carelessly. If anything were to happen to you, what is to become of the family?’ He simply smiled and said, ‘This is mati syahid (It is a martyr’s death)’," she said.

When her husband received instructions to go to Semporna, Marlinah noted a change in Salam’s behaviour.

“He told me the invaders were dangerous people and that the mission might take longer than usual. He avoided looking at me the whole time but asked that I take good care of the family,” she said.

The most challenging obstacle for Marlinah now is in trying to fill her husband’s role in the family.

“The hardest thing for me is when the children look for their father. If they say, ‘if dad were here ...’ it really shatters me, but I try to be strong for my children,” said the mother of four.

To keep her going, Marlinah turns to the memories she shared with her late husband.

“All my memories of him are beautiful. To me, he was the best person I know. But sometimes I think, as much as he loved his children and me, he had more love for his country,” she said.

“Sometimes it makes me sad, but it also makes me a stronger person. It makes me proud of him.”



Source: The Star Online

In fact, life has become a nightmare for his widow Siti Bandora and her four children, Mohd Faridzel Helmi, 20, Liyana Abd Aziz, 17, Nurul Sazwani Aziz, 14, Mohd Aiman Hakimi, 9.

“As the days passed, our feelings of loss and helplessness increased. We miss him more each day and being a mother, I try my best to hide my feelings and try to be stronger for them,” said Siti.

“I am worried for (my children). I fear they will never recover from the shock and sadness of their father’s sudden death,” she said.

She said this was reflected in the children’s school exam results.

“They used to come home with good results and were among the top in their respective classes. Now, it is all bad results,” said the housewife.

“I really don’t know how to help them apart from pretending that I have moved on. I constantly remind them to do so,” said a tearful Siti.

Siti said she had little emotional support from others.

“Sometimes, I have to remind myself that he really is gone and will never return. I have to make myself happy,” she said, adding that at times, her youngest child often asks when his father was coming home.

Siti says she tells him that he would only be able to see his father when he gets to heaven himself.

“To make us feel better, I take Liyana and Aiman, who are living with me to visit their father’s grave,” she said.

Siti says her two other children – Mohd Faridzel, who is studying in Universiti Malaysia Sabah (UMS), and Nurul, who is at boarding school – are coping better.

“I really wish to see (all my children) grow up happy people, and remember that their father died a hero,” she said.

For now, all Siti can do is pray and hope that her family will learn to let go and move on with their lives.

Source: The Star Online

The Year Six student of SRK St Agnes in Kota Kinabalu still misses her father, Sergeant Major Baharin Hamit who was killed by Sulu gunmen in Kampung Simunul in Semporna on March 2 last year.

“The only way she could soothe her aching heart was by hugging her father’s old clothes,” explained her 52-year-old mother, Sumiati Suarah, during an interview at their home in Kampung Laut Inanam, near Kota Kinabalu.

The family’s three-bedroom terrace house is decorated with the late sergeant’s sports trophies, service medals and commendations.

“I still keep some of his clothes especially his badminton outfit, because there’s still his scent on them,” said the widow of the former Special Branch policemen from the state police headquarters.

Sumiati said that her daughter regularly dreamt of her father and there were even times when she dreamt that her father was baking a chocolate cake for her even though he could never bake.

“These dreams make her feel happier,” Sumiati said, adding that she wanted her daughter to focus on the forthcoming UPSR exams, later this year.

Her older son, 17-year-old Muhd Izzat Syafiq, who studies in SMK Kolombong is coping better. According to Sumiati, he is better at dealing with his feelings of loss.

For Sumiati, the events before her husband left their home for Semporna will always remain in her memory.

“I will never forget the day he was left for Semporna. My daughter cried so hard,” she said.

Sumiati says she misses her husband dearly, especially for the little things he did when he was alive.

“When I cooked, he was always with me in the kitchen, just keeping me company, bothering me, and “entertaining” me. Even when I was tired, I did’t feel it as he was always there, making life more wonderful for me,” she said.

Source: The Star Online