A Dad’s Journey: From Rags To Moderation

One of the earliest memories I have of my dad is me holding his hands as our family went to church every Sunday morning via 3 busses, 3 hours journey one way, 30 miles away. I was 5 years old. My dad only had a motorbike hence family travels were by busses. It took me a long time to realise why he insisted upon this lengthy and weekly travel.

We grew up in the suburbs of Malaysia, Klang, at a time where land surrounding us were palm oil estates in conversion to household developments which caused an influx of rural communities learning to live in a suburban…