The Day My Mom Stopped At The Rotten Jackfruit Tree

Hi All!

This post is in chronological order, in fact if you are reading this, you wouldn't find any more posts before this as this will be the first of what I believe will be many posts to come in the future as I share with you my journey in finding my grandparents' kampong house in Pulau Ubin and also at the same time, trace back my roots and family heritage on this beautiful island.

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Image by Shiva via ABSFreePic

Just like many other Singaporeans, we would have ventured into Pulau Ubin at one point in our lives, but as for me, I did travel to Pulau Ubin quite a lot - especially when I was still a small kid. In my primary school years, my mom and I would usually go back once the term break started. I still remembered those double-seater bicycles where two people would be cycling together on one bicycle but I was pretty sure most of the cycling back then was done by my mom as no way my 135-cm self at the time could reach the pedals. However, despite going back to the island numerous times, never in my mind would I ever want to venture through the forests looking for a house; unlike my mom.

There was that one time back in 2005 when I was in Primary 3, where we made a trip down to Pulau Ubin. It was just like any other ordinary trip, considering my young age, I was pretty pampered and spoilt at the time. My tantrums ended up delaying us from reaching Pulau Ubin early, a tradition my mom loved to uphold whenever she would go back to the island. But luckily, I'm not that type of kid anymore today so get that bad image of me as an annoying kid out of your mind now, please.

She seemed to have something on her mind when we reached Pulau Ubin that day. After renting a bicycle which charged by the hour during that time, we cycled to Kampong Sungei Durian and paid a visit to Pak Ahmad and Nenek Piah, who were in their early 70s at the time. We sat down at Pak Ahmad's stall and she suddenly struck a conversation with him, asking him about if her house were still around at the time.

(Pak Ahmad and Nenek Piah were and still would be considered as a neighbour of my late grandparents'. Before their current residence in Kampong Sungei Durian, they resided in Kampong Surau (currently where the Kelichap Hut is today), the first house down the path that would lead to my mom's home. Pak Ahmad and my late grandfather used to work together, pumping oil into the drains around the island to exterminate mosquitoes, thus clenching my grandfather his island nickname, Pak Awang Minyak with minyak meaning oil in Malay.)

That question really got stuck in my mind throughout the day, in fact I might say it even stayed through till this very day. I knew through the many stories that my mom has shared about growing up on the island, but apparently it kept going across my mind that she was a resident of Pulau Ubin who used to live in a kampong house. 

Pak Ahmad replied saying that nobody had helped to clear the grass down the path leading to her house for quite a long time, and that he believed that the house would have already collapsed after it has been abandoned for nearly 15 years at the time, 5 years before I was even born. He also commented that the forests have grown dense and had become a hotspot for monkeys and wild boars. I saw the hopeful glimmer on my mom's face diminishing as Pak Ahmad broke the news to her.

Could it be that all this while when we were going to Pulau Ubin, my mom had a mission on her mind? She really wanted to see her house again. We bade farewell to Pak Ahmad and Nenek Piah before we hopped on to the double-seater bicycle and cycled our way down to Jalan Durian. When we were on that road, my mom told me that on this very road towards the end, was where the path to the house once existed. I was eager to see it for myself too!

We reached Kelichap Hut and to the back of the small shelter, there were tall grass and lalangs discreetly blocking our view of what appeared to be a wooden structure at the back. My mom and I alighted from our bicycle and placed it by the hut. I grasped my mom's hand firmly as we proceeded to sweep through the lalangs on a very narrow earth trail. Shortly after, she stopped.

In front of us, there was a small jackfruit tree. However, it did bear some fruit and one of it was very huge. Unfortunately, and oddly enough, the jackfruit was rotting on the branch. It had not fallen down to the ground and quite a number of houseflies were flying around it. To the right of the tree, I got to see the wooden structure clearly. It was an abandoned kampong house, but its roof has entirely caved in, leaving the home exposed. Certain rooms of the house has also collapsed and levelled completely with the surrounding forest. I asked my mom whose house that belonged to and to my surprise, she said that it belonged to my late-eldest aunt,  Ketom Binte Sulong. 

I got confused as to why my mom's sister would have her very own house and that was when I found out that just before my mom was born, my late eldest aunt had already gotten married and built a new house with her husband at the front of the path. I was legitimately amazed when I knew about this. My mom continued to stay in the same spot in front of the rotten jackfruit tree, looking around for a way to get inside to see if her parents' home was still in there; perhaps might still be standing strong against all odds. But unfortunately it was not meant to be, we could not go in any further for the fear of our own safety.

I always thought to myself that the rotten jackfruit tree served as some sort of foreshadowing on the fate of the kampong houses there. To have seen my late-eldest aunt's house in such a state and the dense forestation around it at that time, it became evident that my mom's hope of going back home was no longer going to become a reality for her. We both headed back to our bicycle, except this time round, my mom was clearly displaying a disappointed expression on her face. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

On our way back home, I told my mom in my high-squeaky pre-pubescent childish voice, that I would help to find her home in the future. She could only smile and say "dream on". She affirmed to me that it was too late and that I should just focus on my studies and make her proud for my PSLE, which was still three years away.

It was from this trip to Pulau Ubin, where my ambition to find the house began. Only time would tell when I would be successful in doing so, if ever.

Read the next chapter of "My Ubin Journey"!
Printing, Paperwork, Pulau Ubin Outing