STORY 1132 LAILA

 

STORY 1132 — LAILA

In every palm oil mill, the weighbridge office plays a crucial role in managing the movement of materials in and out of the mill. This includes fresh fruit bunches (FFB) arriving from plantations, as well as finished products such as crude palm oil (CPO) and palm kernels.

The weighbridge can be an extremely busy place, with vehicles constantly coming and going as long as there are trucks waiting at the mill’s main gate. Because of its importance, the weighbridge is usually located close to the main office. At any time, the mill manager can obtain information on the quantity of FFB received, allowing the management team to plan and coordinate the mill’s processing activities.

Behind all these movements is the weighbridge clerk, who is responsible for recording and monitoring every vehicle entering and leaving the mill. The job requires more than just accuracy and attention to detail. The clerk must also deal with a large number of drivers, each with their own personalities, attitudes and demands.

That was where I first came to know Laila.

Laila was a Melanau woman from Mukah, Sarawak, working as a weighbridge clerk. She was outspoken, cheerful and full of energy in carrying out her daily responsibilities. Her firm and confident personality made things much easier, especially when dealing with the many different characters among the plantation drivers.

During my second year in Miri, Laila married a colleague who worked as a Lab Assistant. He was one of the senior staff at the mill and a dedicated Iban employee. Her husband eventually became one of my close friends during my time in Miri. He shared a great deal of knowledge with me about the local culture and traditions, which helped me tremendously as I adapted to life in the interior of Sarawak.

Several years after their marriage, Laila and her husband welcomed their first child.

Sadly, after giving birth, Laila's health began to deteriorate.

The cheerful woman who had once brought laughter and energy to the office slowly began to change. From time to time, I noticed her coughing at work. On several occasions, she had to return home because she was unwell. At first, I thought it was simply a common health problem related to her recent childbirth.

The remote location of the mill made matters more difficult. It took almost three hours to reach Miri, and the journey involved difficult roads and challenging conditions. Access to proper medical treatment was therefore not always easy.

Eventually, Laila was taken to Miri Hospital, where she was admitted for several weeks.

She was later diagnosed with a heart condition and was referred to Kuching Hospital for further treatment. While waiting for her appointment and treatment, she was allowed to return to the plantation and resume her duties at the office.

The news came as a shock to me.

I had thought her declining health was simply related to the period after childbirth. Now, she had been diagnosed with a serious heart condition. I found it difficult to understand how, after almost three weeks in the hospital, she could be discharged and sent back to such a remote location while waiting for further treatment.

I still remember the day she returned to the office.

After spending weeks in the hospital, she walked in with the same cheerful expression on her face. She was even joking about her experience in the hospital.

She said that the nurses and doctors were probably already tired of seeing her in the ward because she had made the whole ward noisy and lively.

I laughed at her story.

That was Laila—always cheerful, always energetic, always capable of bringing life into the room.

At least, I thought, the quiet office would once again have its familiar source of laughter.

I assumed everything would gradually return to normal.

But it did not.

Not even half a day after returning to work, her husband informed us that Laila was having difficulty breathing and urgently needed to return to the hospital. He immediately took her back to Miri Hospital.

I still remember the sequence of events.

She returned to work on a Monday.

On that same day, she was taken back to the hospital.

On Tuesday, she was admitted to the ward.

And on Wednesday afternoon, I received the devastating news.

Laila had passed away.

The news was completely unexpected.

I immediately left for Miri, and that night I visited her family. The atmosphere was filled with grief. I tried my best to comfort her husband, who was struggling to come to terms with the sudden loss of his wife.

The tragedy left a deep impression on me.

Over the following weeks, I continued to support her husband as he dealt with the many matters following her passing, including arrangements to bring Laila home to her village in Mukah.

A few months later, I also helped supervise the applications for PERKESO and EPF (KWSP) benefits. These schemes provide important financial assistance to families facing difficult circumstances following the loss of a worker.

Among the benefits approved was a monthly payment for Laila's young child, who was only a few months old at the time. The payment would continue until the child reached the age of 18.

It was difficult to accept.

A woman who had once filled the office with laughter and cheerful conversations had suddenly disappeared from our lives, leaving behind a husband and a very young child.

Life does not always give every story a happy ending.

Sometimes, sadness becomes the ending of one chapter—while quietly opening the way for another story to begin.

Laila's story remains one of those memories from my years working in the palm oil industry that I will never forget.

That is my story for today.