From Praise Kid to Bridegroom: Celebrating Ian and Samantha

It was a fun-filled, joyful and humorous evening last weekend on 8 August as we gathered to celebrate the wedding of Ian and Samantha. The banquet was filled with laughter, warm fellowship and happy memories, making it a truly memorable occasion for everyone present.

I have known Ian since he was a little boy attending the Praise Kids in the early 2000s. It was therefore especially meaningful to see that little boy, whom I had watched grow up over the years, now standing as a grown young man and beginning a new chapter of his life as a husband.

Ian’s life story, as shared by his father, George, in his speech that evening, was nothing short of remarkable. His mother passed away in 2008, when Ian and his younger sister, Michelle, were still very young (Read here). It must have been an incredibly difficult and painful season for the family.

Yet, with the love, strength and perseverance of their father, George, together with the support and care of their grandparents, the two children were able to grow up in a loving and nurturing environment. Sadly, their grandfather passed away later, leaving their grandmother to continue playing an important role in caring for and supporting them.

Today, Michelle is married and settled in Philadelphia, USA, while Ian has also grown into a fine young man and has now begun a new chapter of his life with Samantha. Looking at how far both siblings have come despite the difficulties they faced in their childhood is truly heartwarming. Their journey is a wonderful testimony to the love of family, the resilience of the human spirit, and above all, God’s grace and faithfulness through the years.

For me, Ian holds another special place in my memories. I have been his “magician” ever since his Praise Kids days! When I was giving lessons, I would use magic as an additional tool to capture their attention and make the lessons more interesting and memorable (Read here). Ian was one of those young boys who watched with curiosity and excitement as I performed my little magic tricks.

How wonderful it was, after all these years, to see that same little boy now standing at his wedding banquet as a grown man, ready to embark on life's journey with Samantha. In some small way, I feel privileged to have witnessed a little part of his growing-up years.

It was indeed a privilege and a joy to be there - not just to attend a wedding, but to celebrate the remarkable journey of a young boy I once knew, who has now become a husband and is beginning a beautiful new chapter of his life.

That evening, I also had the unexpected pleasure of meeting Ian’s uncle, Vincent, who had travelled all the way from New Jersey in the United States to be present for his nephew’s wedding. His presence added another interesting connection to an already memorable evening.

What made our meeting particularly special was that Vincent had once been a student of my wife back in the late 1980s, when she moved to Kota Kinabalu after our marriage. At that time, she was teaching English at Sabah College, and Vincent was one of her students. Remarkably, even after so many decades, he could still vividly recall being taught English by her and some of his experiences as a student in those days. It was amusing and heartwarming to hear him recount those memories from so long ago.

Life has certainly taken Vincent a long way since his school days in Sabah. He eventually settled in the United States, where he built a life, raised three children who are now grown adults, and has himself become a grandfather. As we talked, I was reminded once again of how unpredictable and fascinating life's journey can be. From a young student sitting in an English classroom in Sabah to becoming a husband, father, grandfather and resident of the United States, Vincent's story is yet another remarkable example of how life can unfold in ways we could never have imagined when we were young.

It was a delightful reunion across generations and continents - two families coming together to celebrate a wedding, while unexpectedly reconnecting with memories that stretched back more than three decades. Sometimes, the most memorable moments at a wedding are not found in the formalities of the banquet, but in the unexpected encounters and stories that emerge along the way.

With some of the friends who were invited to attend the banquet.

A Brief Reunion with Erica & Dan

July and August seem to be a favourite time of the year for Sabahans who now live overseas to return home for family reunions.

My niece, Erica, and her husband, Dan, were among those who made the journey back to Sabah in July. Just a day before they were due to leave Kota Kinabalu, the family contacted me, hoping to meet up with my wife and me before they leave the next day. Unfortunately, my wife was still in West Malaysia at the time, so I had the opportunity to meet them on my own. We got together for a simple meal at a local restaurant on 27 July.

Although it was just a casual gathering over a meal, it was a precious opportunity to catch up, spend a little time together before they headed back to the UK.

It was hard to believe how quickly the years have passed. Erica has now been married to Dan for almost five years (Read here)! The little girl I once knew has grown into a young woman - a talented guitarist who is building a life and making a home with her husband thousands of miles away in the UK.

Moments like these remind me of how scattered our families can become as the younger generation grows up and pursues opportunities around the world. Children who once lived close to us eventually spread their wings, settle in distant countries and build lives of their own. While we are happy to see them growing and flourishing, there is also a quiet sense of nostalgia when we realise just how quickly the years have passed.

Yet, no matter how far they travel or where they eventually settle, coming home to Sabah remains something special. These reunions may be brief - sometimes lasting only a meal or a few days - but they provide precious opportunities to reconnect, share stories, laugh together and create new memories.

Perhaps that is what makes coming home so meaningful. It is not simply about returning to a place; it is about returning to the people and memories that remind us where we came from.

A simple lunch at Sabamian, Kolombong.

Discovering Hokkaido's Past: From the Hokkaido Museum to the Historical Village

Our tour of Hokkaido was not just about enjoying delicious food and breathtaking scenery. We also made time for an educational experience. In the afternoon of 10 July, we visited the Hokkaido Museum in Sapporo, which provided an excellent introduction to the history, nature and people of Japan's northernmost island.

More than a collection of historical artefacts, the museum tells the story of Hokkaido from prehistoric times to the present day. We learnt about the island's unique geology, volcanoes, diverse wildlife, early human settlements, and the transformation of Hokkaido following the Meiji period. It gave us a much deeper appreciation of the places we had been visiting throughout our journey.

Japan is often perceived as one of the world's most ethnically homogeneous nations, unlike many other Asian countries that are distinctly multicultural and multi-ethnic. Yet one of the museum's most fascinating sections introduced us to the Ainu, the indigenous people of Hokkaido. Long before Japanese settlement, the Ainu lived in close harmony with nature, relying on fishing, hunting and gathering for their livelihood. Their beliefs reflected a profound respect for the natural world, with rivers, forests, bears and salmon regarded as gifts from the spiritual beings, or kamuy.

The museum also presents the more difficult chapters of Ainu history. Following the settlement of Hokkaido by the Japanese in the late 19th century, many Ainu people lost their traditional lands and experienced discrimination and strong pressures to assimilate into mainstream Japanese society. Today, however, there is growing recognition of the Ainu as Japan's indigenous people, and significant efforts are being made to preserve and revitalise their language, traditions and cultural heritage.

Our visit to the Hokkaido Museum reminded us that travel is not only about seeing beautiful places or tasting local cuisine. It is also about understanding the people, cultures and histories that have shaped those places. Learning about the Ainu added a meaningful chapter of our Hokkaido journey.

The exhibit is believed to be a fossilized lower jaw with molar teeth, belonging to Naumann’s elephant (Palaeoloxodon naumanni), an Ice Age elephant that lived in Japan about 350,000 to 24,000 years ago. Its large, ridged molars were adapted for grinding vegetation. Standing around 2.5m-3m tall, this prehistoric elephant coexisted with other Ice Age animals.

Among the highlights were displays of traditional Ainu clothing woven from natural fibres, hunting and fishing implements, beautifully carved wooden utensils, ceremonial objects, musical instruments, and models of the cise, the traditional Ainu house. Interactive exhibits and multimedia presentations provided further insights into Ainu customs, family life, beliefs and artistic traditions, while also showcasing ongoing efforts to preserve the Ainu language.

Overall, the Hokkaido Museum provides far more than a collection of exhibits. It helps us understand how the island's landscape, wildlife and diverse peoples have shaped its identity over the years.

The cise is the traditional house of the Ainu people.

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From the Hokkaido Museum, we continued to the nearby Historical Village of Hokkaido, an open-air museum covering 54 hectares. The village features more than 50 historic buildings that have been relocated from different parts of the island and carefully preserved to showcase the architecture and way of life during Hokkaido's pioneering era, from the late 19th to the early 20th century.

The village is divided into four districts: the Town Area, Farming Village, Fishing Village, and Mountain Village. We spent a leisurely afternoon wandering from building to building, exploring traditional homes, shops, a post office, a police station, and other restored structures. Many of them are furnished with original household items, tools, and everyday artefacts, providing a fascinating glimpse into the lives of Hokkaido's early settlers more than a century ago.

The Historical Village of Hokkaido offers an engaging journey through the island's rich history and cultural heritage. Together with the nearby Hokkaido Museum, it provided us with a deeper appreciation of how Hokkaido developed into the vibrant region it is today.

Former Kondo Dye Shop.

We ended our tour of the Historical Village of Hokkaido at the Former Kondo Dye Shop. Originally established in Asahikawa in 1898, the building was relocated and reconstructed in the village to preserve an example of a traditional dyeing business from Hokkaido's pioneering era. It served not only as a shop but also as the owner's residence.

A highlight of our visit was watching a couple demonstrate the traditional dyeing technique. Their skillful hands transformed a small piece of plain paper into a coloured paper using age-old methods. As a lovely souvenir, each visitor was presented with a small piece of that paper dyed during the demonstration - a simple but memorable keepsake from our visit.

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Before leaving the Village, we decided to have our lunch at the canteen at the village. We all chose ramen for the meal.

The Journey of Faith Among Chinese Migrants

The movie "Dear You" has swept across China and Southeast Asia like a storm. Everywhere I went, almost everyone I met seemed to be talking about it.

On further reflection on the first Chinese migration to foreign lands, two things stood out as especially important to them: preserving the Chinese language and maintaining the religious traditions embraced by their families. This explains why, in nearly every place where early Chinese settlers established communities, one can find temples and ancestral worship halls. For those who had converted to Christianity, the pattern was similar. They began by gathering for Sunday worship in homes, and as their communities grew, they built church buildings to accommodate regular congregational worship.

By coincidence, I was recently invited to share the history of BCCM with a group of young lower secondary school students on 28 June 2026. It was a meaningful opportunity to reflect on how faith, migration, and heritage have shaped the church’s identity over the generations.

BCCM’s origins can be traced back to the first group of Chinese Christian migrants who arrived from Guangdong, China in 1882 to North Borneo, a territory later known as Sabah following the formation of Malaysia. These early migrants were brought in primarily to help open up vast tracts of land and dense jungles for agricultural development, including rubber plantations, coconut estates, and coffee farms across various parts of North Borneo.

Among these pioneers were Christian believers who had come to faith in China through the ministry of missionaries from Basel, Switzerland. Though they had left their homeland behind, they carried with them something far more enduring - their faith. In this unfamiliar new land, they sought to preserve and nurture that spiritual inheritance by establishing a worshipping community of their own.

In honor of the missionaries and the spiritual legacy through which they had received the Gospel, they named their church the “Basel Church.” What began as a small community of migrant believers would, over time, grow into a vibrant and enduring church, rooted in faith and committed to serving future generations.

Initially, the church was a Chinese Hakka-speaking congregation, serving the linguistic and cultural needs of its earliest members. Over the years, however, it evolved significantly. As Sabah’s demographic landscape changed, the church adapted to serve a broader and more diverse population. Today, BCCM has become a multilingual church community, ministering not only in Hakka and Chinese Mandarin but also to English-speaking and Bahasa Malaysia-speaking members.

Its journey reflects a broader story of migration, faith, and adaptation - how a community rooted in heritage can remain faithful to its origins while growing to embrace new generations and cultures.

Echoes of Friendship Through Time - CG Birthday Celebration

Each year, our CG organizes a few rounds group birthday celebrations for the members. As most of us are in our senior years, the occasion is far more than a simple social gathering marked by cake, the singing of birthday song, and the exchange of well-wishes. At this stage of life, a birthday becomes an opportunity to reflect on the depth of our journeys and the many lives we have touched along the way.

Celebrating with the birthday "girls" on 10.04.2026.

Reaching this season of life is, in itself, a significant milestone. It speaks of resilience through changing times, challenges overcome, and lessons learned over decades of living. A celebration at this point becomes a tribute to endurance, wisdom and a lifetime of experiences.

At the same time, birthdays in later life carry a quiet awareness of time’s passage. With each passing year, there are fewer familiar faces at the table. Friends who once celebrated with us have departed, leaving behind memories that are fond yet tinged with sadness. Their absence is felt more keenly on such occasions, reminding us that life is fragile and that every shared moment is precious. This gentle awareness does not diminish the joy of the celebration; rather, it deepens its meaning. It encourages us to cherish the company we still have and to value every opportunity to gather while we can.

At this stage of life, we are also keenly aware of the importance of good health and mobility. Even amid conversations about knee pain, backaches, and the difficulty of climbing stairs, we recognize all the more the importance of seizing opportunities for togetherness while it is still possible. The laughter we share, the meals we enjoy, the photographs we take, and the conversations we hold become treasured memories for everyone present.

Ultimately, such celebrations remind us that every year is a gift, and that the timing of our final journey is never known.

Strengthening Bonds Through Celebration Meals

On 17.03.2026, we hosted a Ramadan buffet dinner for our staff at the newest hotel in town, Sheraton. This took place just one and a half months after our pre-Chinese New Year celebration dinner (Read here). As far as I can recall, organising lunch or dinner gatherings during major festive occasions - such as Chinese New Year, Christmas, and Ramadan - has long been an annual practice (Read here).

In a culturally diverse setting like Sabah, celebrating different festivals together has proven to be both meaningful and impactful. Such occasions foster unity, boost morale, and help staff feel valued and appreciated. 

Staff who attended and group photo taken outside the hotel after the meal. My wife and I are not in photo because we left earlier.

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Two days later, on 19.03.2026, we attended another Ramadan buffet, this time at Le Méridien. This gathering was made possible through the generosity of a church friend, who invited some of her cell group members and other church friends to join in the celebration.

Surprisingly, the dish that drew the longest queue was the Gearbox Soup, a popular and hearty preparation made from large cow leg bones, particularly the knee or shank. The name “gearbox” comes from the resemblance of the bone to a car’s gear stick or mechanical component, giving the dish a distinctive identity.

The main attraction of this gearbox soup lies in its rich, deeply flavoured broth and thick, collagen-rich texture. The highlight, however, is the marrow itself, which diners like us enjoyed by using a straw to extract it directly from the bone, savouring its creamy and somewhat peculiar taste.

An Evening of Festivities and Friendships

This Chinese New Year has been rather eventful. We found ourselves attending yet another festive celebration dinner, this time at one of the local hotels on 26.02.2026, courtesy of an invitation from one of my banks. Occasions like these add a pleasant extension to the festive season and provide moments to pause and enjoy the company of others.

Before dinner began, we had the opportunity to watch a Lion Dance troupe perform at close range. The beating of the drums, the movements of the lions, and the festive energy of the performance brought the hall to life. It was a reminder of how these traditions continue to enliven the spirit of the Chinese New Year.

We also had the chance to participate in the customary lou sang once again. Earlier on just before CNY, we had already enjoyed our first lou sang during our company’s Pre-Chinese New Year Annual Dinner with the staff on 02.02.2026. Yet repeating the ritual did not diminish its meaning. As always, the tossing of the colourful ingredients together was accompanied by cheerful wishes for prosperity, good health, and success in the year ahead.

Perhaps the most meaningful aspect of such gatherings is the opportunity to meet people - sometimes new acquaintances, but often old friends whom we have not seen for many years.

That evening, two of the guests I met long ago instantly brought back many memories. One of them was Mary, a former staff member of the Sabah Forest Industries (SFI) Pulp and Paper Mill in Sipitang. The first time I met her was during a reunion on 10.03.2017 - almost nine years ago. That gathering was arranged by Mr. Cheng Lik Seng mainly for several former staff of SFI and some of his acquaintances. I was invited because we had once worked together at Permodalan Bumiputra Sabah Berhad (PBSB). At that time, Mr. Cheng was the Property Development Manager and my immediate superior during my four-year stint in PBSB from 1984 to 1988.

How I eventually came to join PBSB was itself quite an eventful story (Read here). After four years there, I left in 1988 to join Antah-Biwater, where I was involved in the implementation of the Sabah Rural Water Supply Schemes (Read here). A couple of years later in 1994, Mr. Cheng also left PBSB to assume the position of Managing Director of SFI. SFI originally a wholly-owned company of the Sabah Government was privatized in 1994 and Lion Group acquired the majority share of the company. Tan Sri William Cheng, the CEO of the Lion Group appointed Mr. Cheng to be the MD of SFI Pulp and Paper Mill in 1994.

Sharing the meal together in the same table was Charles Wong, who is now retired. Our acquaintance goes back even further, to 1988, when we first met during a job interview shortly after I had left PBSB. That was thirty-eight years ago. On this occasion, he came with his son, now 45 years old. Moments like this make one pause and reflect on the swift passage of time.

Indeed, time has a way of moving quietly yet relentlessly forward.

Guests at our dinner table on 26.02.2026. Mary is second from left while Charles is second from right.

An old photo taken on 10.03.2017 during a reunion dinner of former staff of SFI and friends of Mr. Cheng. Mary is the third from the left, while Mr. Cheng is the third from the right.

Francis Yee (first on the left), a cousin of mine, joined SFI as the Chief Mechanical Engineer of the Pulp & Paper Mill after leaving JKR Sabah.

On the far right is Lau Siew Ching, a former colleague of mine at PBSB (Read here), who was later invited to join SFI as an assistant to the MD, Mr. Cheng.

The Legacy of Ordinary Fathers

On 07.02.2026, I received a WhatsApp message from the Chairman of Golden Joy of BCCM KK (E), asking whether I would be available to share a message at their regular meeting on 18.06.2026, in conjunction with Father’s Day, which will be on 21.06.2026.

Almost instantly, the request stirred memories of my own father, who passed away exactly twenty years ago on 25.01.2006 (Read here). Barely two weeks earlier, on 25.01.2026, it was the 20th anniversary of his passing (Read here).

Whenever thoughts of my father come to mind, I am often reminded of one of my favourite Chinese prose essays written by the well-known Chinese writer, Zhu Ziqing (朱自清), in October 1925, titled 背影 or “The Sight of Father’s Back.” I was first introduced to this essay during a Chinese Literature lesson back in 1965, when I was a Form 1 student. Even after so many decades, the story remains deeply moving to me.

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The following is an abstract of the English translation of the prose:

"................We crossed the river and entered the train station. I went to buy the ticket while father busied himself watching over the luggage. There was quite a lot of it, and we had to tip the porters before they would move it along. Father began bargaining with them over the price.

At that time I was far too self-assured. I felt his manner of speaking was rather awkward and could not help interrupting him. In the end, however, he settled the matter and escorted me to the train.

He selected a seat for me near the carriage door. I spread the purple fur coat he had made for me across the seat. He reminded me to be careful on the journey, to stay alert at night, and not to catch a chill. He also asked the waiter to look after me well.

Secretly I smiled at what I thought was his needless fussing. Those people cared only about money - asking them to help was pointless. Besides, I was already grown; surely I could look after myself. Alas, when I think back now, I realize how foolishly confident I was then. I said, “Father, you should go back now.” He glanced outside the carriage and said, “I’ll go buy a few oranges. Just stay here and don’t move about.”

Beyond the railing of the opposite platform stood several vendors waiting for customers. To reach them, one had to cross the railway tracks - climb down from this platform and climb up again on the other side. Father was rather stout, and I knew it would not be easy for him. I offered to go myself, but he would not allow it, so I had no choice but to let him go.

I watched him wearing a small black cloth cap, a black jacket, and a dark blue cotton-padded robe. Slowly and awkwardly he made his way toward the tracks. Climbing down was not too difficult. But when he tried to climb up the platform on the other side, it became much harder. He grasped the edge with both hands, drew his legs up after him, and his heavy body leaned slightly to one side as he strained upward.

At that moment, seeing his back, tears suddenly filled my eyes. I quickly wiped them away, afraid he might notice - and afraid others might see.

When I looked out again, he was already on his way back, holding several bright red oranges in his arms. As he crossed the tracks he first set the oranges down on the ground, climbed down slowly himself, then gathered them up again before continuing.

When he reached my side of the platform, I hurried forward to help him. We returned to the train together. He placed all the oranges onto my fur coat in one heap. Then he patted the dust from his clothes, looking somehow relieved. After a moment he said, “I must go now. Write to me when you arrive.”

I watched him walk away. After taking a few steps he turned back, saw me, and called out, “Go inside now. There’s no one in there.”

I waited until his back disappeared into the crowd of people coming and going, until I could no longer make him out. Then I returned to my seat, and once again my tears began to fall..............."

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Naturally, when we think about fatherhood, we tend to admire great fathers in the Bible - men like Abraham or Jacob. But the truth is this: In real life, it is often the quiet and ordinary fathers who help to shape remarkable children.

They are not famous. They do not leave behind great sayings. They do not stand on stages or receive awards. Many of them hardly say very much at all. But day after day, they faithfully do what fathers are meant to do.

They work hard to provide for the family.
They protect their loved ones.
They make sacrifices quietly.
They love faithfully.
They remain humble.

They do not seek recognition.
They do not expect praise.
They simply do what is right.

And though they may never write books or become well known, the legacy they leave behind is written in the lives of their children.