Note: The picture above is Ayer Itam village in the 60s. This is the place where the writer and friends sold their stolen oranges.
If there is ever a story that needs to be told, it's this one, especially during CNY. You know, when you were young, you were always up to some mischief.
This event happened during CNY eve when I was in my preteen and till this day, I still regret it.
Here it goes…
It was a humid Chinese New Year’s Eve in Ayer Itam, Penang, and the air smelled of wet earth after the afternoon rain. My friends and I huddled beneath the banana trees, crouching low in the mud like fugitives. The croak of frogs and the high-pitched buzz of cicadas filled the silence, broken only by the whispered orders of our leader, Ban Hock.
Shh… Don’t let the nun hear us,” he hissed, his torchlight casting a dim glow on our anxious faces. The old nun, hunched and sharp-nosed like a witch, lived inside a squatter hut. She owned the banana plantation and would not hesitate to release her dogs on anyone foolish enough to trespass. Tonight, her shadow moved about the kitchen, tall and crooked against the flicker of a kerosene lamp.
We were just a bunch of naughty schoolboys with nothing to do, waiting for exam results. But under Ban Hock’s leadership, we fancied ourselves a gang. He was the son of Tua Chat, a feared underworld figure whose businesses stretched from illegal lotteries to contraband liquor.
Ban Hock was like his father — short and solid, with a chest puffed from lifting weights in his father’s compound. He had muscles, looks, and the devotion of his adorable girlfriend, Ah Moi.
That night, Ban Hock unveiled his most daring plan yet.
“Listen. Every house will be offering fruits, rice, candies, and even Ang Pows to the Kitchen God tonight. The old folks believe these offerings will bribe the Kitchen God to report good things about their families to the Heavenly God,” his teeth flashing in the dark. “And we’re going to steal them all.”
The words hit us like a thunderbolt. We’d stolen Jambus and bicycle tires before, but never offerings to the gods. We shuffled nervously. Others look on the ground, scratching nonsense figurines in the mud with a stick, pretending not to hear.
Boss… are you serious, ka?” I collected my courage and asked.
'Yes! This is a test of courage and loyalty to be a member of my gang,” he snapped.
His gaze pierced me, and I swallowed hard.
One small, timid, newbie member raised his hand.
“But… aren’t you afraid of the gods? ‘ he stammered.
‘We steal their food… what if…if…the God punish us?”
The question hung heavy in the night air. Everyone kept quiet. He looked around for support, but there was none. The frogs croaked, and the cicadas seemed to pause.
'You got no balls, ka!” Ban Hock barked. “We’re gangsters, you know? We survive on stealing. If you’re scared, then you’re not one of us!”
His words silenced us. In truth, fear gnawed at our stomachs, but no one dared speak against him.
And so, at midnight, we crept through the village, hearts pounding, hiding in the shadows of attap-roof houses. We waited until family members came out at midnight to pray. They closed their eyes, incense smoke curling into the night sky, lips mumbling, whispering blessings of peace and prosperity. Then as soon as they turned their back, — swoop! — We darted forward, snatched the apples, oranges, and red packets, and fled like lightning.
It was an exhilarating and terrifying experience. Dogs barked, old men shouted, but we were faster. By dawn, we delivered sacks of stolen offerings to Ban Hock’s father’s fruit stall outside the Kek Lok Si Temple. Worshippers thronged the temple that CNY morning, and everything sold quickly.
For Ban Hock, it was a triumph- a bumper harvest. For us, a night of adrenaline and fear disguised as loyalty. We celebrated feasting on kuih and cakes bought with stolen Ang Pows'.
But soon after, strange things began to happen. One boy landed in the hospital with food poisoning. Another couldn’t sleep for days. I myself was stricken with diarrhoea.
And Ban Hock? His adorable girlfriend, Ah Moi, ran off with another gangster head.
Then the words of the timid newbie member echoed true in our ears.
“Aren't you afraid of the punishment from the god?”
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