To Forgive and Forget

By Azlan Mahmud


The silence of the almost pitch black night was broken occasionally by the howling winds that blew across the city river, creating ripples and small waves that were enough to rock the docked ferry. Ahmad said a silent prayer as he led his wife and three children down the slope towards the jetty.

They were in a foreign country, where Ahmad was pursuing his doctorate studies. It was the fasting month, and they had just broken fast at a friend's place. To get to their rented home, they had to take the ferry across the city river, something he and his family had done many times before. This was the first time, though, that they were rushing to catch the last ferry home. Terawih prayers had ended later than usual.

"You sure you want to go back? It's going to rain heavily soon," shouted Malik as he ran down the slope towards Ahmad and his family.

"I'm afraid I have to! Got lectures the next morning," answered Ahmad, raising his voice to be heard above the winds. Malik nodded and volunteered to help his family get on the small ferry.

"Hurry up, mate! We've got to get going before the storm comes!" shouted the burly ferry operator. The waves were now starting to get stronger.

Ahmad nodded and started to help his youngest daughter on first.

"Slowly, Niza."

The small girl smiled at her father, and slowly put a step on the ferry.

Just then, a big wave hit the ferry, pushing it away slightly from the edge of the wooden jetty. But the gap was enough.

Niza fell through and sank into the murky waters.

"NIZAAAAA!" The scream of a terrified father rose above everything else. Malik rushed forward, as did the ferry operator. Ahmad tore off his shirt and prepared to dive in to save his daughter.

"Don't do it, mate! You'll sink too!" shouted the ferry operator as he tied a rope to himself. He knew that if anyone else jumped in without an anchor in this weather, he would sink too.

But Ahmad did not hear him. All he wanted to do was save his daughter, and precious seconds were ticking away.

Malik was torn between his friendship and the sanity of not letting Ahmad jump in. The waves grew stronger as large droplets of rain began to fall. Malik knew Ahmad was not a good swimmer. He held him back.

"Don't! You'll never make it! We'll have to wait for help!" Malik could see from the corner of his eye that the ferry operator was now radioing in a distress call. Anger engulfed Ahmad.

"Let me go! Niza's down there!"

Malik felt a punch land on his face, which sent him rolling backwards towards Ahmad's wife. She was now sobbing uncontrollably, with two other children huddled close to her in fear.

"Don't mate! Let me go! You'll drown!" said the ferry operator. He ran towards the farry, took off his shirt and dived in, his rope acting as a safety harness. But Ahmad wouldn't listen. He was preparing to dive in himself, when Malik, again, held him back.

"Don't be crazy! You'll die!:

Ahmad turned and swung another punch at Malik, who managed to avoid it this time. Malik knew he had no choice. He punched Ahmad squarely on the face, sending the distraught father down onto the sandy grass. His wife ran towards him and held him as she wept.

"Please don't, abang! Please don't leave me too!"

And with that, Ahmad cried.

The thunderstorm broke.

Malik turned to look at the violent river as the ferry operator dived and came up a number of times, frantically searching for the little girl. Sirens could be heard approaching the riverbank. A small crowd started to gather.

Tears flowed down Malik's eyes. He wondered if he had done the right thing.

They found Niza's body the next morning, a hundred meters from where she had fallen. It's not eight years since that fateful night, and Malik has not met Ahmad of his family again. But one day, he bumped into Kak Shima, Ahmad's wife. She recognised him and said "Hello".

It's been a long time, she said. And the inevitable question of where Ahmad was came up. Kak Shima smiled, a resigned smile. Tears started to well up in her eyes.

Ahmad passed away three years ago, in a car accident. He had never forgiven Malik for what he'd done that night, although Kak Shima understood the young man's actions. And with that Kak Shima left, leaving Malik standing alone by the roadside.

"Yes, Kak Shima," he had felt like saying. "I've never forgiven myself too."

Sent in to Starmag