By Badrolhisham Bidin

This is not a memorial posting. This is about a friend, a sister, as jovial as she could be, even in times of distress. You could be worried sick about her, but Muharyani Othman, a cancer patient, would crack jokes about the misfortune that befell her.

In the end, everyone was laughing. No one would ever know how Muharyani, a bubbly Bernama sub-editor felt deep inside, because she never showed it.

The 68-year-old Kak Yani was my colleague in Balai Berita, she was a senior writer for the New Straits Times and I was a reporter with The Malay Mail. We sat in different sections but she would come over once in a while to offer food, drinks or whatever she had.

She left the building before I did but we always bantered on WhatsApp … she would call once in a while, asking how I was. When I, too, left the building, she expressed concern, asked me how I was doing and wondered how I would cope without a stable job.

Once, she insisted that I attended an interview for a post in Bernama where she worked. After the interview, she brought me to the editorial floor, like a mother bringing her child to the office, introducing me to everyone.

When I did not get the job, she was upset. I told her that was not meant to be. But she would check in on me from time to time.

In 2019, she invited me for lunch and insisted that everyone in the family came along. So, with four kids and a wife in tow, we met over lunch somewhere in Subang Jaya. The kids were fond of her – – she fussed over them, putting more food on their plates as she spoke animatedly of the memories we had under the same roof.

Kak Yani (third from right) with the writer and family

We once acted as husband and wife for a Malay Mail Big Walk promotion at Sungai Wang Plaza. The wife and a scrawny husband in kain pelikat. It was hilarious. Scores of shoppers had a good laugh as they stopped to watch a pair of idiots prancing around the stage.

About a month before she passed on, I saw a missed call from her. I immediately returned her call. Kak Yani told me she was bedridden due to a surgery. Even then, she sounded bubbly.

We spoke for about 20 minutes, I asked if we could visit her, I could feel her excitement. She later private messaged me her address and we were planning to visit her.

But, time’s greatest enemy – procrastination – interfered. We forgot. Until the day we received news that she was in a coma at the hospital.

She passed away on March 1, 2023. Rest well, Kak Yani.