THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A BANANA NOTE

A British soldier recently demobilised was sitting quietly in his home in the suburbs of London. Spread in a heap on his lap were a number of souvenirs he had collected during the war years. Among his most cherished objects were a piece of metal which was extricated from a wound in his arm, and a small bundle of “banana notes” of various denominations. All these reminded him of the bitter days when every minute of his life was fraught with dangers. Finally, he put them all in a bag and went to bed.

Hardly had the lights gone off when there was a squabble in the bag.The other objects were gathering around banana note who was bemoaning his fate. “Oh how I long for the good old days.” Suddenly, he assumed a wistful voice and said “Did I tell you boys before of my wonderful adventures in Japanese Occupied Malaya? Well listen carefully and you will benefit from the experiences of one who has been through the most hectic life imaginable. Although I am young in years, yet I can truthfully say that I am not without worldly wisdom.But sad to say that my advent into Malaya has caused hunger and poverty to thousands of its inhabitants. I have seen men in their worst moments when they would do anything, yes even betray their friends to possess my brother and me”.

“I remember the time when two men saw me lying on a road and immediately they flew towards me. The one who was a bit faster put his foot on me and claimed me for his own. The other was unwilling to give way because as he said he had seen me first and therefore by right I should be his. They argued and finally came to blows, but all in vain for a little boy grabbed hold of me and ran off unnoticed. Since then I have never looked back upon my younger days; I have waded deep in black market transactions and have endured with singular fortitude my depreciation in value as time went on. I was quite satisfied with my lot, since I was able to visit so many places, and get in contact with human beings. Although I owe my being to the Japanese yet I cannot be reconciled to their harsh attitude towards the local people.”

“I can however boldly say that these strong measures carried out by the Japanese did stamp out crime and hooliganism except in cases where the vassals, all local people misused the power given them to further their own ends. From what we hear there seems to be a sharp increase in robberies in Malaya now. This , in my humble opinion is due to the leniency of the British laws towards criminals. Owing to the system of British justice which gives every prisoner a fair trial, a man convicted of robbery with violence is only flogged and imprisoned. If this had happened in the Japanese Occupation the unfortunate robber would have left all the troubles of the world behind him.

“My active career was ending in the latter part of 1945. Oh you boys must see for yourselves before you can realize what a tumult was caused when news of the Japanese surrender leaked out. The poor men’s faces were radiant with joy at the prospect of tasting the air of freedom again, after so many years of hardship. But traitors and those who waxed fat on their ill-gotten gains bore anxious faces doubtful as to what would become of their personal safety and money. When it was really announced by the British Occupation Forces that we, my brother and I, were no more legal tender in Malaya or anywhere else for that matter, heartfelt thanks were voiced by the poor while pitiful groans characterized the rich.”

“It was at this period that I together with some other members of the family was given to my present owners as a souvenir of the Japanese Occupation in Malaya.

Perhaps it is wrong of me to long for the good old days when I enjoyed myself at the expense of so many wretched human being, but you must bear in mind that I am not used to such enforced inactivity. Now it has doine me a lot og good to be able to impart my grouses and opinions to you who are such interested listenders that I shall hereafter grumble no more and try my best to be reconciled to my lot.”

This story was featured in the 1950 ACS School Magazine and was written by my Dad, Foo Chee San when he was in Standard VII C