By Rizal Abdullah
On September 23 last year, we lost Hamdan Raja Abdullah, a writer and journalist, after a short illness. After a two-week stay at Muar Hospital, Hamdan was discharged and given a December appointment for scope surgery. However, it never happened as he passed away later that month in September.
To me, Hamdan was many things. Brother-in-law. Colleague. Confidante. Friend.
He carried the crisp English of his youth at the British naval base in Sembawang, Singapore, and the discipline of a swimmer who thought nothing of crossing from there to Stulang Laut in Johor Bahru.
He loved music and classic films like Sands of Iwo Jima – stories of grit that mirrored his own.
When a cruel motor vehicle accident (MVA) occurred in Tampoi in 1973, he was mowed down by a “kereta sapu” (illegal taxi) while riding his Vespa scooter to return home in Kempas. It took his right leg above the knee, but did not take him.
Instead, it created a space for Hamdan, who could probably have been a successful athlete, possibly a swimmer, a bodybuilder, or even a weightlifter. To go from that kind of athleticism to losing his leg above the knee…that was a cruel turn.
Losing mobility changes everything. And doing it suddenly in an accident is its own kind of grief. That swim from Sembawang to Stulang Laut – most people wouldn’t even dream of attempting that. My brother-in-law must have been incredibly strong, in body and in will.
Hamdan, the swimmer, didn’t disappear after the accident happened. He just found a different current.
When one dream ended, another began for Hamdan. He discovered a different way forward – just as meaningful as the life he once planned. He turned the page and wrote. In Bahasa Melayu, he crafted novels and short stories that won prizes, proof that his spirit wouldn’t be amputated.
To lose a leg and still choose to create, to shape worlds with words instead. That was a strength most people will never know. He refused to be defined by what was taken from him. Athletic in body, then athletic in mind.
For the record, he also contributed regularly to scripts for Malay dramas that had a large following when aired over Radio Television Malaysia (RTM)’s southern region.
Hamdan (left) joining in a party during happier times
Masih Ada Yang Sudi (There Is Still Someone Willing)
That title says it all. He dedicated a whole novel to his late wife, Hamidah, from Temerloh, Pahang, who passed away in 2014. She married him despite his handicap. She chose him after the accident, after the amputation. She saw the man, not the handicap.
And he turned that love into literature. Together they raised four children, two sons and two daughters.
From a naval base swimmer to an accident survivor to an award-winning novelist, who wrote a love letter to his wife in Malay prose. What a life! What a testament to both of them!
He lived fully in every chapter he was given. Hamdan lived many lives, all in full. Athlete. Writer. Journalist. Husband. Father. He refused to be defined by loss and chose instead to create, to question, to love, and to be loved.
We remember the swimmer, the novelist, the newsman who pulled no punches, and the man who showed us what resilience looked like.
A life well lived, indeed.
As his brother-in-law, I have this to say: “Hamdan lived his life to the fullest despite being handicapped. He was never a burden to anyone.”
He was jovial, always an inspiration with his good work ethic, disciplined, and dedicated. A good listener, Hamdan never backed down when dealing with politicians and earned their respect with his hard-hitting questions.
Hamdan had a way of making the people around him feel seen and cared for. Some people leave a lasting mark on your heart, and Hamdan (POK) was one of them. I am so grateful for the time we shared, the laughter, and the memories that I will hold on to forever.
Hamdan also joined The Star newspaper on April 22, 1991, based in Johor Bahru. As a journalist, he wanted to be independent and rented a room at a three-storey shop-lot near the office. He never complained about the time consumed to go to his room or come down since he was using crutches. Even if there was a blackout, it was just routine for Pok, who had mustered the steps.
Sharp, blunt, and daring in interviews, he was deeply versed in politics and never afraid to ask hard questions. The same courage that drove him to swim the Johor Straits also drove him to chase the truth as he excelled in his writing strokes until July 2013.
Rizal Abdullah, the writer (2nd from right in batik)
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