By Subhi Mohamad

Bomoh occupies a special niche among the Malays.

Somehow they have managed to endear themselves to the Malay psyche. Across the rural Malay heartlands, there is hardly a kampung that does not boast of its resident bomoh, and, the fact that they also thrive in Malay enclaves in and around urban centres, speak volumes of the continued relevance of bomoh to the Malays. Even the most highly educated, the most western oriented and the most modern thinking of Malays will fall back on bomoh when all else fail.

Bomohs are approached to seek cures and remedies for diseases and ailments. Their services are also sought after for a multitude of other reasons (that are) totally unrelated to health matters.

These include the wishy-washy dream to strike it rich in a lottery draw, the lofty aspiration to win a Parliamentary seat in general elections, the utterly devilish desire to put your business rival out for good (oh yes, we Malays are good at this!) and the desperate hope for success in examinations.

Pertaining to the last matter, it has to be acknowledged that Malay parents have no equals when it comes to the business of sourcing blessed water from bomohs to help their kids-no matter how hopelessly stupid to excel in school examinations.

It was in the context of an examination that I was to play an unsuspecting role in perpetuating the grip of bomohs on my kind.

Examinations are indispensable components in the realms of formal education. Certificates, diplomas and degrees are awarded based primarily on examination results.

My first entanglement with an examination of great importance came at the tail-end of my primary school career, way back in 1963.

Today’s primary school kids are a mighty fortunate lot. After six years, they migrate merrily en masse to the secondary level, riding on the ticket of automatic promotion.

More than half a century ago, my generation was not blessed with that luxury. No siree! Our passage was far from being blissfully guaranteed. Awaiting us at the end of Standard 6 was the MSSEE (Malaysian Secondary School Entrance Examination). No small matter, that Examination. Flunk it and that was it for you.

You had to kiss goodbye to your hopes and dreams of progressing to secondary school. Sadly several of my buddies stumbled at that hurdle and found themselves on the list of bewildered unemployeds at a very tender age! And it isn’t too far-fetched to suppose that the odd one or two among them had not even quite mastered that intricate art of knotting their shoe laces! Yup, that was the MSSEE for us, way back then. Treacherously unforgiving! Slayer of hopes, killer of dreams.

MORE TO COME: Watch out for part two of the tale of the bomoh and Malays.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Son of a strict but loving school master from the colonial era. Received his early education in Sungai Petani and a graduate of UM. Followed father’s footsteps in the education line. Now enjoying retirement in rural and rustic Gurun. The author is hopelessly in love with hiking and jungle trekking and his goal is to scale Everest one day, God Willing.