Every time Independence Day arrives, I am reminded of a name that remains deeply etched in my memory — Captain Rizan Muhamad Aris, our PALAPES (ROTU) instructor during the three years we underwent military training at Universiti Sains Malaysia (USM) from 2000 to 2002.
Those three years eventually culminated in the commissioning of 130 of us as Second Lieutenants.
The memory became even more special in 2002 when USM had the honour of hosting the commissioning ceremony. The PALAPES program at public universities across Malaysia rotated the responsibility of hosting the ceremony among the universities. It was a significant occasion for every cadet and every university involved.
Each batch of cadets was guided by a military instructor, normally an officer holding the rank of Captain. Captain Rizan began serving as our instructor when he was still relatively young in his career, having just returned from overseas service under the United Nations peacekeeping mission in Bosnia and later serving in Africa.
That experience immediately captured our imagination.
Whenever Captain Rizan began telling us stories about his experiences overseas, 130 cadet officers would fall completely silent. Every word mattered. We listened attentively, fascinated by the experiences of a Malaysian Army officer who had witnessed the realities of countries affected by war while serving under the United Nations flag.
A Malay officer from Johor, Captain Rizan was physically strong and somewhat short in stature, but his presence was unmistakable. His voice was relatively low, yet filled with confidence and authority. To the 130 of us, he became much more than an instructor.
He became our role model.
One of the activities we looked forward to most whenever we had training at the USM main campus in Penang was physical training every morning.
For us, cadet officers from the USM engineering campus in Seri Iskandar, every joint training session meant travelling by a three-tonne military truck to the main campus. We would stay in the rooms of fellow cadet officers at Desasiswa Kembara and Desasiswa Indah, located next to the USM parade ground.
Every visit gave us another opportunity to meet our instructor.
Our day would begin with the muster assembly at around 6:30 in the morning. Soon after, we would set off for the morning run, breaking the silence of dawn with songs that lifted our spirits.
While students from other faculties and universities were still asleep, we were already running, sweating and pushing ourselves beyond our limits.
After the run came a series of obstacle courses.
Almost two hours of intense physical training could push even the strongest cadets to their limits. It was not unusual for two or three of us to collapse from exhaustion or come close to fainting.
That was usually when Captain Rizan would finally call an end to the physical session.
He would order us to gather around him and then begin speaking.
What happened next was almost magical.
Despite our exhausted bodies, drenched uniforms and heavy breathing, his words seemed to restore something inside us. Somehow, the fatigue disappeared. The spirit returned.
We were ready again for the next phase of training — weapons training, military strategy in the lecture halls, or drill sessions on the parade ground.
Every aspect of the program had been carefully structured according to the PALAPES training syllabus. There were many other instructors who taught us different military disciplines, and we respected every one of them.
But whenever a training session ended, Captain Rizan would often have the final word.
And whenever he began to speak, we became like children listening to a father telling us something important.
He would remind us:
"I have experienced many things overseas. I have seen countries devastated by war. The destruction is beyond our imagination."
Then he would remind us how fortunate we were to live in Malaysia — a country blessed with peace and stability.
"Take care of this peace."
His message was simple but profound.
As soldiers, we had to remain prepared for the possibility of war. But having experienced the realities of war himself, he also understood something that many of us had never experienced.
Those who truly understand war do not wish for war.
He taught us to become citizens who valued peace.
Do not become complacent.
Do not take independence for granted.
Do not be careless with the peace that generations before us had fought to protect.
"Fill this independence with something meaningful. Make the most of the peace that this country has given you."
Those words stayed with us.
Captain Rizan's admiration for the nation's military leaders also influenced us deeply. Among the figures he admired was Mejar General Dato' Amir bin Baharudin, better known to us through the story of his leadership and military legacy.
Captain Rizan's admiration for him eventually inspired the identity of our own batch.
The 130 of us were given the name Gunturean.
At the time, we probably did not realise how meaningful that name would become.
Years passed quickly.
By 2015, almost 13 years after our commissioning, Captain Rizan had served in various appointments within the Malaysian Armed Forces, including EXCOMM in Sabah. By then, he had risen to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.
But sadly, his journey came to an end.
He passed away while serving the nation.
The years may have separated us from our days as cadets, but the legacy he left behind remains deeply embedded in every one of us.
The PALAPES USM motto — "Sentiasa Memimpin" (Always Leading) — continues to live in the hearts of those he trained.
Today, many of our former batchmates have gone on to hold important positions in various fields across the country. Some continued their careers in the military. Some followed in Captain Rizan's footsteps and eventually became instructors themselves, training new generations of cadet officers at universities.
That, perhaps, is the greatest measure of a teacher's legacy.
Not the rank he achieved.
Not the position he held.
But the people he inspired and the values they carried forward.
Looking back, I realise that Captain Rizan did not merely train us to become military officers.
He taught us to appreciate peace.
He taught us responsibility.
He taught us leadership.
Most importantly, he taught us that independence is not simply something to celebrate once a year. It is something we must protect, appreciate and fill with meaning every day.
Thirteen years after our commissioning, his physical presence was gone.
But his voice remained.
His lessons remained.
His spirit remained.
And his legacy continued through the 130 Guntureans he once trained.
Today, as Malaysia celebrates its 69th Independence Day, I remember the man who taught us that the greatest victory is not winning a war — but preserving peace.
Thank you, Sir, for every lesson, every word of encouragement, every challenge and every value you passed on to us.
Your legacy will continue to live through the generations you inspired.
May we always remain citizens who appreciate the independence and peace entrusted to us.
Happy 69th Independence Day, Malaysia.
May we never take our peace for granted.
This is my story today.








