The Match

The Match

“No, Papa! Kiran does not want this! Why?”

The sudden outcry startled everyone in the room. A sixteen year-old girl who had been sitting quietly at a corner of the room now sprung up from her seat in agitation.

The tuai rumah sighed. “My dear daughter, can’t you see? This is for the sake of unity – our people with other peoples.”

“But . . .” Kiran hesitated, glancing distastefully at the two fair-skinned strangers beside her father, the chief of the longhouse. She had never seen Chinese people before. Definitely from the city, she thought. They don’t belong here... how could they propose something so absurd!

“Mr. Tan has an excellent proposal. I believe that through this inter-racial marriage between you and his son, both of you will become the seeds of unity between the Chinese and Iban community here in Sarawak,” answered Datuk Linggi firmly.

“That’s right,” added Mr. Tan. He was a burly man in his forties. “The Sarawak Chinese Association aims to forge strong friendships between different races. The newly-acquired independence of our nation, Malaysia, must be preserved through wholesome unity. As leader of the SCA, I’m willing to sacrifice everything to achieve this. I don’t want to see dissension between races anymore. That’s the dream both my son and I have.”

Datuk Linggi approached her, his eyes twinkling. “He’s a good lad, Kiran. Zhi-Qiang is well-educated, something many of us are not. I’m sure he can provide a good life for you, perhaps much more than what we can give you here.”

“But Kiran doesn’t want to move! Kiran likes home better!” she protested, looking into her father’s eyes imploringly.

“Kiran…” her father began tiredly.

She interrupted obstinately. “Why can’t Kiran choose, Pa—?”

A resounding slap echoed in the longhouse.

“Don’t be foolish and selfish,” scolded Datuk Linggi, breathing hard. “We raise girls to be thoughtful and submissive. Where did your manners go?”

Kiran’s tear-brimmed eyes were cast down to the floor. Her cheek stung painfully; her father was a strong man. She knew she had exceeded the limit – after all, girls had no say. They were to be meek.

Without another word, she fled out of the longhouse.

----o----

“Kiran? Kiran!”

The raven-haired girl was jolted out of her reverie. Speak of the devil!

“What are you doing here?” she asked shortly.

For the first time, she scrutinised Zhi-Qiang closely. True enough, he was rather good-looking, though his physique paled in comparison with her fellow natives. He was probably a good fellow, but she hardly knew him! It was worse than the saying, ‘love at first sight’ – it was ‘marriage at first sight’, she thought sarcastically. Did he even agree to this arranged marriage?

“Your father asked me to escort you home. He told me you’d be here,” he replied pleasantly.

Kiran pursed her lips. She could not very well disobey her father anymore. Merely nodding her head, she walked past him, heading home.

“Hey! Wait!”

She continued on, ignoring him as one would ignore a stalker.

Zhi-Qiang overtook her. “Can we at least have a proper conversation?”

“I’ll take the detour back home,” she said indifferently, wheeling around. I’m not in the mood for this!

Unbeknownst to her, her leg tripped over a fallen tree branch. Crying out, she felt herself falling until a strong, protective arm grabbed hold of hers.

“Are you okay?” Zhi-Qiang inquired, frowning.

With red cheeks, Kiran barely nodded and quickly pulled away from his hold. “…Thank you.”

The young man sighed. “Look, I know this isn’t easy for you, but neither is it for me. Our cultures, philosophy and backgrounds are very different.”

“Knowing that, you still agreed to this… this arranged marriage?” Kiran shot back, challenging him.

“I agreed because I want unity among your people and my people,” he answered promptly and earnestly. “It’s tough, but I’m willing to learn your ways of life. Try to think about what your father said and your people’s future. To achieve something, there must be sacrifice. I’m willing to do it. Are you?” he challenged her back.

Kiran knew he was right. But could this match really work…?

He sighed. “I’m sorry for speaking so harshly. Let’s start over again, okay? I’m Zhi-Qiang, from Kuching,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Silence.

“And you are…?”

She finally lifted her head. “Kiran.”

----o----

Not a day had passed by, yet Kiran was already missing her home. Here she was, in the city of Kuching, full of concrete structures alien to her. Unsurprisingly, there were no lush forests around. Replacing it were flat, grey planes – what Zhi-Qiang called ‘roads’. And they were travelling on those ‘roads’ in a ‘carriage’ propelled on ‘wheels’. As they passed the streets of Kuching, she noticed that people were bustling with activity, mostly trading goods.

She felt so lost.

Perhaps that was what Zhi-Qiang felt too, back at her native land recently. She remembered him admiring the architecture of the longhouse. Built on belian stilts, the longhouse could house many families, where each family would occupy a bilek. He seemed impressed when she told him living together in this manner fostered strong unity in the Iban community.

She chuckled softly as she remembered his initial shock upon seeing head trophies hanging from the ceiling. She had to hush him quickly when he blurted out the word ‘skulls’; formerly, her people were the finest head-hunters, and my, weren’t they proud of it!

“What’s so funny?” asked Zhi-Qiang curiously, interrupting her chain of thoughts.

“Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly, grinning impishly. Her smile only widened when she pictured his comical face when he was offered a glass of tuak, homemade rice wine, at the entrance of the longhouse. Initially, he politely declined the welcoming act, but she nudged him to take it as refusing such gestures was considered disrespectful. He then quickly took it, looking abashed.

“We’re here,” declared Zhi-Qiang, startling her once again. “Welcome to my—I mean, our house.”

As he ushered her in, all Kiran could do was gawk and stare, mesmerised at the huge beige-coloured building in front of her (which she thought was too big for just one family to reside). Moreover, she could not comprehend how buildings could stand without stilts.

“Come on in,” invited Zhi-Qiang, grinning upon seeing her dazed face. “I’ll show you around.”

That was the most enlightening day she ever had. For the first time in her life, Kiran sat on cushioned chairs, listened to a radio, used a modern sanitation system, and goodness knows what else. It was an exhilarating, unforgettable experience!

It was only after she explored every nook and cranny in that house that Kiran truly began to understand the rurality of her native land. Doubtless, her cultures and heritage were unique; nevertheless, upgrading their lifestyles in certain aspects may be necessary to enjoy life better.

It was in the evening when they had a visitor.

“What? Your father isn’t around, Zhi-Qiang?”

“No, I’m afraid my father is in Miri currently. How can I help you, Mr. Bong?” Zhi-Qiang answered politely.

The tradesman shrugged. “Well, I guess I can do business with you. After all, you’ll be succeeding your father’s trading business soon—” he stopped suddenly, his eyes looking past the young man.

Kiran appeared at the doorway, startled at the sight of a Chinese stranger.

“Who is she?” inquired Mr. Bong, cocking an eyebrow. “Your maid, eh?”

The sixteen year-old girl flushed, feeling insulted. Marching up furiously to them, she was about to correct him when Zhi-Qiang quickly spoke.

“Of course not. In fact, let me have the pleasure of introducing to you my fiancée, Kiran Anak Linggi,” he said coolly. “She is an Iban from the Baram interior region. We were engaged a month ago.”

“Oh!” That statement threw him off his chair. “So the rumours are true! I had no idea SCA’s plans would actually come to fruition. Well, congratulations!”

While shaking Zhi-Qiang’s hand, Mr. Bong was still inspecting Kiran. Suddenly, he posed a question to Zhi-Qiang in a language foreign to her.

Kiran glared at him, knowing that he was talking about her. Would Zhi-Qiang reply him in Chinese too?

“Well, we all have our own beliefs. My belief is that no barrier, language or cultural, can stop a happy marriage if there’s mutual affection between both sides,” he replied confidently.

Kiran felt her heart skipping a beat as he held her hand, gripping it tightly.

“Kiran believes that too,” said she, looking at her fiancé. She smiled, her cheeks slightly flushed.

----o----

Kiran was set for the wedding. An intricately bead-woven chest adornment was worn with a traditionally weaved knee-length dress. Silver jewellery adorned her wrists, waist and the hem of her skirt, which jingled whenever she moved. The sugu tinggi, a silver exquisite headdress, identified her as the bride of the day.

Now, she was left alone in her room, having her quiet thoughts. Earlier on, all the women of the longhouse had fussed around her, preparing her for the marriage ceremony. The thought of the men fussing around Zhi-Qiang as well made her laugh.

She smiled to herself as a particular incident recurred in her mind.

“My goodness! You’re drunk again?” Kiran asked incredulously.

Zhi-Qiang grinned sheepishly, his body swaying. “Your relatives kept toasting to our wedding tomorrow… so I ended up drinking so many glasses of tuak. What could I do?” He spread his arms wide in comic innocence.

Kiran shook her head as she helped him to move into a spare bedroom in the longhouse. Once he was tucked into bed, she was about to leave when he suddenly called her name.

“Kiran?”

“Yes?”

Zhi-Qiang’s eyes were closed. “I’m glad things turned out this way. You… me… everything…”

“Are you ready, Kiran?”

Mak Tina’s voice jolted the bride out of her reverie.

“Yes, Mama, I’m coming!” she answered.

Kiran stepped out shyly as her mother opened the door. Everyone cheered.

Zhi-Qiang came over and took her hand with a broad, boyish smile.

“Ready?”

“You bet.”

Yes, I’m glad things turned out this way too, she answered in her heart. You… me… everything… How this extraordinary, seemingly implausible match turned out so well after all.