Monday, June 15, 2020

Bye Bye, Bayo (revisited)

Bayo in 2005 (photo by Antares)

I awoke on the morning of June 4th to terribly sad news. Bayo, the cutest kid in Pertak Village, was dead. He couldn't have been much older than six. On May 27th I had driven nine kids from the village to witness a surrealistic children's play by the Jumping JellyBeans called Terra Arata. Bayo was supposed to have been part of the group but he couldn't come because he wasn't feeling well. I was told he was suffering from a bad case of boils on his backside. As the other kids squeezed on board my trusty Toyota van, I waved at Bayo and he forlornly waved back. The next time I saw Bayo, about a week later, he was lying on his living room floor, wrapped mummy-like in a sarong, not entirely cold yet, but no longer breathing.

Bayo's father Empi burst into convulsive tears when it came time to wash the tiny body prior to burial. I can imagine the complex feelings that must have coursed through him, seeing his kid's body already turning blue, and the sinister seaweed-shaped bruise creeping over his left shoulder and moving toward his heart. A Temuan woman near me whispered: "Tengok! Dia kena barang hutan!" ("Look! Something from the jungle got him!") Later, after the funeral, Empi told me Bayo had been playing in the belukar (secondary forest) behind his Granny's house and he must have been attacked by the barang - a vague enough term for something inexplicable to modern minds, more in the nature of a curse.

Bayo's Granny, Awa, is a practising dukun or medicine woman. She may have been careless in the disposal of some magical effluent following a ritual healing. A few weeks earlier, one of my friends had taken Bayo to the hospital to treat his multiple sores - and the doctor had discovered a high level of staph in his blood. Bayo was admitted to the ward, but was hastily brought home later the same day when Empi created a scene, admonishing my friend for sticking his nose into other people's affairs. It was a no-win situation, for sure... but nobody had expected that the robust little boy would die from a few sores on his butt.


Empi and his wife Pita have had 13 children - and now, with Bayo gone, they only have 9 left. Little wonder Bayo and some of his siblings made a habit of hanging around my house, watching Disney videos and enjoying a regular bounty of chocolates, cookies, sweets, and sometimes even a full meal. A few years ago Empi was a very rich man, when he received close to RM100,000 compensation for ancestral orchards destroyed by the Selangor Dam project. Alas, he apparently squandered it all within the space of a year by throwing parties everywhere he went - and by changing motorbikes every couple of months. Empi's residual paternal pride was obviously affronted when my friend took it upon himself to admit Bayo to the Kuala Kubu Baru hospital.

If Bayo had been allowed to stay in the hospital for a week and administered some antibiotics, would he be among us still? Most probably, yes. But what's the use of further exacerbating his father's guilt? Bayo won't be coming around in the afternoon to lounge on our divan and watch Beauty and the Beast with my boy Ahau anymore. I'll miss high-fiving the little tyke as I drive by - and his impish grin and sassy salute whenever he receives a special treat.

Lata Suir was one of Bayo's favorite spots (photo by Colin Nicholas)

I have a plethora of many other thoughts and feelings to add to this blogpost - but not tonight, not tonight...

[First posted 6 June 2007]

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

My condolence to the family.

Shakeel Abedi said...

A young persons death is always painful. Playfulness and Death never go together, they shouldn't.

XMOCHA said...

so sad- hugs.. maybe he is bathing in a waterfall somewhere far far away and winking at us from under the trees..

Starmandala said...

Death is a phenomenon I've long accepted as part of the dance of energy. Every exit implies an entry into a different story. So I rarely grieve at funerals - but Bayo's untimely passing aroused in me a depth of feelings, ranging from anger at his parents' negligence and misplaced pride to a profound sense of loss. Oftimes, when I'm frustrated by the poor attitudes so many Orang Asli reveal (in reaction to generations of being ignored, shunted aside, looked down upon), it's the animated, carefree faces of the kids that reminds me that, when all is said and done, these ARE, indeed, the Children of Paradise - and their presence is living proof that Heaven on Earth isn't merely possible - but an absolute imperative!

Anonymous said...

A pleasant boy. A cheerful smile with a strong spirit. I know his energy will always surround Pertak and will continue to bring joy, innocence, laughter and love.

Anonymous said...

Not sure if my words would bring much good, but I shall say a quiet prayer for his family and everyone who knew and loved him well. Take care Antares.

Starmandala said...

Thanks, Nizam! Orang Asli heal fast from all wounds but everybody misses the little tyke, who was the de facto mascot of Kg Pertak! Yup, Bayo was the irresistibly cute, enchanting human face of the whole area and in him the various kingdoms converged. Sending you a big hug...

Anonymous said...

Im sorry to hear about this.Especially when it is a child we're talking here.I used to go on missionary trips to Rensung and Ruai near Raub when I was a student.Love the kids.For one year i kept going in twice a month to teach them english and maths.It was an honour for me.They have a new teacher now but sure I was touched by what I see.I remembered when me and my buddies bought a few FIFA world cup soccer ball replicas for the kids.Boy were they excited.They may live a simple life but one that I had come to admire.Ooh..my eyes...must be the haze...keep doing what you do best Antares...take care

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