The Nuri Experience

Every journalist in the world can tell you about their "dangerous" moments, a close call, something which makes you bertafakur sejenak, look back at your life and bersyukur that you are still given the chance to live.

I know my dad and my sisters (who later joined my dad as journalist after their graduations), had many close calls too, and their editorial pieces will be featured in this blog soon.

But what I am going to write here today is based on my experience, in after just 3 months helping out my dad during my summer vacation.

Back then, I must admit I was never one who knew much or appreciated News, per se. So, getting on a Nuri for the first time brings no goose-bumps or apprehensions about flying on it. Instead, I thought it would be fun; and it was actually fun cos I had never experienced being a sort-of "open-styled" heli ride, where its door was half open, serving the remaining part as an open window. Well, except for the deafening engine noise, I enjoyed the ride as I could clearly see the jungles down below, and feel the soft breeze of the morning air on my face. To my amazement, there was refreshments served too.

That day (if I'm not mistaken was on 11 December 1989), my dad and I were on board the Nuri with its air-craft crews and two of their high ranking officials, the late Mej. Jen. Dato' Mustaffa Awang and Brig. Jen. Dato' Hasbullah Yussoff. We were on the way to Lundu for some military events to cover for news. We boarded via the old Kuching airport (many a great memories at that airport) which is now used for military aircrafts.

I could not remember now how long the flight was but what I do remember is interviewing the late Mej. Jen. Dato' Mustaffa Awang and Brig. Jen. Dato' Hasbullah Yussoff on some issues on-location (I'll get some pics soon when I balik Kuching). My dad was the cameraman and all I did was hold the mike. It was a day trip and we were safe at home before dark.

A week later, my dad told me to stand-by cos we might have to follow the military for a routine visit to Lundu again. Oblivious to statistics of Nuri crashes, I was ready for action but my dad later told me we may not go as it was not a newsworthy event (unlike last weeks' event).

(Digressing here... Statistics of Nuri Crashes:

From 1968 to 1981, there were only 4 deaths in a crash one of which happens on 25 April 1981 – where 2 Malaysian air-force personnel were killed and 13 more injured in a Nuri crash during a storm 30nautical miles from Kuching Airport - "Dua anggota TUDM terbunuh dan 13 lagi cedera dalam nahas helikopter Nuri ketika ribut di 30 batu nautika dari Lapangan Terbang Kuching, Sarawak".
And in 1989, prior to the 18 December incident, there were 2 crashes and 21 deaths. The first incident of 1989 was an emergency landing the cause of which was uncertain. The second happened in November 1989 whereby 21 military personnel including15 anggota Pasukan Polis Hutan were killed when the Nuri crashes between Gunung Gerah and Gunung Bilah at the borders of Kelantan-Perak.).

How wrong we were! That fateful flight on the morning of Moday, December 18, 1989, carrying 16 anggota Tentera Darat and TUDM, including the Pegawai Pemerintah Markas Divisyen Kedua, Mej. Jen. Dato' Mustaffa Awang and Pemerintah Briged Ketiga Infantri, Brig. Jen. Dato' Hasbullah Yussoff, crashed near Sungai Lundu, Sarawak.

I learned of the news after Maghrib when I was asking my mother in the kitchen at our house in Perumahan (she was taking out some plates from the white cupboard perched behind the sliding glass door, and I was on my way upstairs to my room), the whereabouts of my dad. That was when I learnt the news of the crash as my dad was covering the story . I felt scared for my dad cos he was covering the news for the tragedy alone. At the same time, I felt relief that we were not on the air-craft that day.

I remembered asking my mom why dad did not ask me to follow him for the coverage. But according to mom, my dad had to rush to the airport as the bodies had been found and they are now bringing it home. My dad, ever the one to scoop news from other fellow news-men, never waited a minute when he get calls to cover a story. He was so committed to providing the best news and visuals. So I knew the drill. After the visuals, my dad has to "pump" the feeds at Telekom to make it for the 8pm News Bulletin. A one man show at that time, he consolidates the news report (the journalist circle was quite tight, and there were some good friends around to get the facts from), get his visuals on locations (arrival of the jenazah, the burials etc.), drives down to Kuching to pump the feeds, call KL to stand-by. Sounds easy? Well, no! Its a one-man show, equipment was heavy, it was raining and he has been on his feet since morning. He has not eaten. He must have been extremely tired. Poor dad...

I could not explained the anxiety I felt that night. I just wanted my dad to be safe at home with us. Al-fatihah to all that has perished in that flight. Amin.

When my dad gets home that night, it was already late. Mom, the ever, supporting angel, waited up for him. Maybe she's worried too but she never shows it. Its just gonna be a short sleep for my dad cos he may just have to cover a follow-up on the story plus other news coverage, of course.

In my mind, there will be days in time, that my dad has to go through this sort of hard work again. I felt so wrong that I even thought of helping my dad and discontinue my studies. But that was unheard for, for my parents. No matter how hard times were, no matter what kesusahan they will go through, they never complained or make us feel guilty. Instead, they wanted us to catch our dreams... Life was tough at this time (digressing a bit....my sisters were selling Choki at school! sometimes nasi lemak which my mom cooks!... I hope my sister would contribute editorial pieces of their experience here), but life has to go on...