My childhood first job

Otah, also known as otak-otak, is a Southeast Asian dish of Malay and Peranakan origins, consisting of a fish paste made from ground fish, spices, and coconut milk, typically wrapped in banana leaves and grilled or steamed.

My late Elder Brother used to make this and sell in his neighbourhood in order to support his growing family. He will allow young low income children who wanted to earn money to carry a basket in pairs, then go door to door in the housing apartment to do the busking. The businesses are good as the otah are of good quality and sold cheaply, 20 cents for one and $2 for 10+1 pieces. The leftovers will be given to them at the end of the day to bring home to share with their families. Thus, my Elder Brother do not keep the otah overnight but always making fresh batches every single day to ensure the freshness.

When my Mum passed away suddenly due to a heart attack in 1986, my Dad decided to move to a smaller rental flat in order to save cost. We moved to the same rental apartment block as my Brother's family, just different level. My Dad also learn how to make Otah from my Brother in order to support us, the younger two siblings.

I remembered my Dad will stir fry the chili paste from scratch... the strong spicy smell will filled the tiny small one room apartment. My 2nd elder Sister will stay away as she's asthmatic so I'm always Dad's little helper in the business. After mixing the chili paste with raw ground fish (often mackerel or other firm-fleshed fish) and ingredients, Dad will spread on coconut leave and put them on a makeshift 'table' (two metal racks on top of a plastic basket). Then both my Sister and I will use another piece of coconut leaf, made a fold to cover the fishy paste and stapled the ends to hold in place. We usually made about 2-3 baskets full of Otah a day. I was only 9 years old at that time.

Dad will load up all the otah on his bicycle and slowly cycled uphill to the old neighbourhood where we used to live. Over there, the kind folks knew us and show their support to buy from us daily. As for my Sister and me, we will make our way to school and then after school, I would go to help Dad at his makeshift stall by the letterbox collection area in one of the apartment block with other essential shops. We will use charcoal to grill the otah, giving that traditional smoky taste.

Honestly, in current era... people will say this is 'child abuse' making children work at such a young age, etc. But to me, I was given the chance to develop my entrepreneur skills set early. I learn how to do basic calculation, knowing how to order raw ingredients and make profits from sale, how to do good customer service and practice simple sale tactics to survive. For example, if buying more, I will throw in extras for the customers too. We even have different selection of otah, like those with Fish head, sotong, prawn, and even non spicy type upon advance ordering.

This business also gave the low income kids in the same neighbourhood to stay out of trouble... no time to join gangs or to end up doing bad things. The kids will be helping to bring in income to support their families who often have sickly parents that can't work, or irresponsible guardians involved with addiction issues. Yes, it may be hardship for very young age.. but to me... it can shape our characters and resilience to handle the world as we get older.

Nowadays, whenever I see Otah, it bring back so much so much beautiful bittersweet memories. Of the precious time I spent with my Dad till he passed away 8 years later when I reached my GCE -O' level getting the result year in 1995. Yes, I'm feeling emotional because tomorrow 23rd March 2025 is his 30th death anniversary. I never forget the image of my Dad getting all hot and sweaty standing at his stall fanning the charcoal fire to make sure every piece of Otah is grilled to perfection.

I miss my Dad... he taught me so much... like most men out there... he keep persevering on in his difficult aging time when he was already suffering from heart failure condition... just to put food on the table for his two younger children. He doesn't complain but just pushed on till he saw me graduated from GCE 'O' level. I remembered he falling into a coma but keep struggling to get up but he can't even open his eyes. It was only in the night while I sat there alone with him that I spoke softly to him that I'm a big girl now. I don't want to see him suffer anymore. I will take good care of myself and he passed away peacefully the next morning with a smile on his face.

But I will always imagining that Dad is hovering around me like my guardian angel... I made a promise to him that I will convert to his faith as a child of God so I will meet him again one day. So far my only regret is not getting a degree as I have been taking care of my mentally ill hubby and loaned my degree saving to his parents for their house 20 years ago. Now I'm starting my bible school next month... and after completing the Dip in Bible school. I hope to go onto Associate degree level. Because this is the last promise I made to my Dad too, that among his 3 children, one of us must be a degree holder to bring honor to him. (Asian culture)

Meanwhile, I think I will look for Otah to order for tomorrow as a memoir to my hardworking and quiet studious Dad. #Forever