Rangoon Cheroots

Asked around the Nibong Tebal folk of my generation about my identity, nobody knew. But, once the name of Rangoon Cheroots was mentioned all would know to whom I was related. Not that these fellows like the smell or the taste of the Burmese cigar of those days; it was the name that rang the bell with the nickname of my second brother-‘Leong Kong Cheroot’[良康朱律] which bore a similar pronunciation in Teochew dialect of the Burmese cigar, Rangoon Cheroots[仰光朱律,pronounces as ‘Yang Kwang Chu Root’]

The actual name of my second brother was Liew Leong Kong[刘良康]. His other nickname was ‘O Leong’ [乌良] as he was dark in complexion. In his later years, he was also known as ‘O Nang’ [乌人]

Ever since he was young he seldom stayed at home as he wanted to go out to play with his friends except when it was time for meals and for sleep. The house was just like a hotel to him. No matter how severely he was punished to stop him from going out, he would still opt to leave home at every opportune moment to join his friends outside. Although he mixed with bad company, he never wanted me to follow his footsteps. It could be that he wanted me to remain a good boy, or it might be that he was afraid I would be an informer of his bad deeds to our parents.

As his brother, I seldom got bullied outside as his friends knew to whom I was related. On the other hand, his friends would try to cover up my brother’s misdeeds whenever I was around with them. Sometimes his friends would help my brother to hide somewhere so that I was unable to follow him to have fun elsewhere. But if I insisted to follow him, he would give in on the mutual understanding that whatever we did outside we would keep to ourselves. Together we went round the town selling ice-cream which we got from the shop Lau Soon Lee[老顺利],earning about thirty or forty cents a day. We swam in a stream near an orchard yard from which we plucked fruits 'without permission'.


My brother was very generous. Whatever he had he was willing to share with others. During the first day of the Chinese New Year of 1964 when he was at the age of fifteen, he went out to gamble with the red packet money that he received from the elders and relatives. Before noon, he had gathered a small fortune. He quickly came home to give some to my mother. But, before the day was over, his pocket was empty again. He came home like a beaten cockerel hoping to borrow some money from my mother. My mother readily returned all the money he had given her on that day. With that money he went back again to the gambling table hoping ‘to turn the tables’.

Sometime back in the year 1988 he was lucky to strike a fortune of RM 100,000 in a 4D draw. Friends and non-friends with a pig and dog’s instinct [猪朋狗友] quickly gathered around him to help him in spending the money. I was told that every day he had meals with two or three tables of friends, in which he footed the bill. Occasionally, he would sponsor a ‘troop of combatants’ north bound for Hat Yai to do ‘body-contact battles’. Some even pestered him to get a chauffeur-driven second car to move around the town. Lavish spending planned by ‘his economic advisory planning unit’ coupled with his frequent gambling, he was back to square one within a few months.

As usual, most gamblers would go bankrupt sooner or later. He was no exception. He was broke years before his sudden death with a heart attack in 1997. At that time his life became miserable. He had to help out as a waiter to serve dishes to customers at his friend’s food stall just to secure his daily meals.

At his funeral, not a single soul of his friends with a pig and dog's instinct was there to send him off. Only a nephew, a niece and I were present to watch the cremation of his body.

What a pity was the fate of my second brother, a lifetime gambler leaving behind nothing else except an IC [identity card] and an unsettled debt he owed to a loan shark.