APRIL 24 — My deepest condolences and gratitude to Adam Adli and your family for sharing your ayah, Pak Cik Halim Abdul Hamid, with us.

I recall the first time I ever met him was when I took him to Jinjang lockup to visit Adam when he was in lockup for the May 13 Blackout forum, in May 2013. I just had my first accident, my bumper was falling apart and Ayah Halim  told me to stop at the side of the road to fix it, so the car would be in a “presentable condition” for A. Samad Said to sit in, who later joined us on our “road trip to Jinjang” to visit Adam.

Ayah Halim Abdul Hamid and Pak Samad were the finest road-trip buddies, I must add. Humorous and poetic.

It was a black week because Adam Adli was remanded for five days in 2013 and was being investigated under section 124(b) of the Penal Code and the Sedition Act 1948. I believe that we can trace the ongoing sedition crackdown to this case, and he is possibly the first casualty in the post-13th General Elections sedition crackdown.  

His father’s heart was the second casualty.

When we arrived at Jinjang, you could see he was torn up inside. He was not happy to see his son behind the sheet of glass, dressed in orange, but he was an activist inside and out. He was composed, he ensured that Adam read every single message of support through the sheet of glass, kept telling him to be strong and to let us know if he wanted to pass messages to his friends.

It was not easy for him to constantly travel to Kuala Lumpur during that period, it was a constant commute from Penang, but he was willing to do it for Adam. He was always willing to do anything for Adam and his friends. He asked me to call him “Ayah”, he had asked all of us to call him ayah, and it was not a joke. He meant it. He was like a father to all of us and was not ashamed to be kind and affectionate with everyone, regardless of race, religion, and gender.  He confided in me that he smiled a lot, but only God would know how heavy his heart was when Adam was in jail.

The next time Adam Adli was held in Jinjang lockup, which happened this year, Ayah had grown more feisty. He insisted on accompanying his son inside the lockup, wanted to bring in food, and was certainly far more fearsome than the man I had met outside Jinjang.

While Malaysia watched Adam grow, his father grew too in his own moderate, compassionate way, sharing his kindness with even more people.

Perhaps that was his brand of activism. Kindness and compassion.

The unique thing about Ayah is that he loved his son in a fearless, revolutionary way. Adam Adli is paying a heavy price for his activism, from being barred from Universiti Pendidikan Sultan Idris (UPSI), to being sentenced to 12 months imprisonment for speaking out and currently has at least three pending charges in court. He is also no stranger to a jail cell.  

Throughout this period, his Ayah has been unwavering in love, support and pride. He is always the first one outside the “balai”, holding the megaphone, prepared to go in to see his son, and his voice would be filled with pleasure when Adam has been released on bail. Unlike the fathers of his generation, he does not use fear and worry to stop his son from being an activist, instead, he shares Adam’s opinions with everyone and accumulates support and love for his son, instead of having it all channelled to himself. As Kierkegaard said, “only the noble of heart are called to difficulty”.

Till his last days, he showed up for every single case Adam has been charged for and always pledged to come for the next dates. He would repeat the dates like mantras, ensuring all of us remembered the dates, the lawyer, Adam, the other activists and he repeated it for himself, so we would all meet at the spot again. It was like a sacred ritual.  

He was even present for mentions, which sometimes take only five minutes, but he would fight tooth and nail to be in the court room, to take photographs at the court lobby and to show support for everyone. He would have been a fine client, because he was always punctual. Far more punctual than the lawyers sometimes, and he would call us to remind us of court dates, because like most dads, he was an anxious dad too.

He was not spared from harassment and intimidation. In July 2013, he was also investigated for giving a speech at Adam Adli’s candlelight vigil. Predictably, he showed no fear and perhaps his fearlessness is hereditary.

Ayah was doing his activists rounds even during his last days. He fought for 12 hours only with his heart functioning. As tragic as this may sound, it could very well be a reminder of how he had lived his life, fighting life’s battles bravely with his heart until the end of his life.

His death is sudden and tragic. Our last meeting was at the trial of the 33 Blackout Activists who were charged under section 143 of the Penal Code, in which Adam is one of the accused. Our last words to one another were “take care” and I took it for granted I would see him at Adam’s next court date. He said that he would come. And nothing ever stopped him from coming.

It is heartbreaking that he will not be here for May 1 to “Bantah GST”, for the continuation of the Blackout trial in September, for Adam’s sedition appeal and for the other small side events that may happen during the year. We should never take our unsung heroes for granted, because when they leave us, they leave big holes in our heart.

My deepest heartfelt condolences to you and your family during this terrible time Adam Adli. We have all lost a big part of our circle too. Rest in peace, Ayah, farewell, be well wherever you are!

* Michelle Yesudas is one of the lawyers representing Adam Adli.

** This is the personal opinion of the writer and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail Online.