By Zulheimy Maamor - Form 4 & 5, Setapak High School
My name is Zulheimy Maamor; I was 17 in 1978. Hair to the shoulders, kemeja collar besar, seluar corduroy. No handphone, no internet. Just a pair of Bata shoes and a 20-cent coin for the public phone. No handphone, no Internet.
Sekolah - Setapak High School
Our school was called High School Setapak—English name, in Malay Sek. Men. Tinggi (Inggeris) Setapak, KL, English medium school. Some subjects are in English and some in Malay. The teacher taught mathematics in English, but we answered in mixed Malay, "Sir, I don't understand lah, sir, very susah..." Everyone laughed, even the teacher laughed... "This Melayu, who speaks English, must have one or two Malay words..."
Morning assembly at 7:30am sharp. Mr. Chia & Cikgu Khairuddin, a Cikgu with rotan. Mr. Chia once scolded me, "Zul, cut your hair a bit; this is school, not a Deep Purple concert."
Lencana sekolah on our chest, but inside we were listening to Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, and D'lloyd on Radio Malaysia.
These two photos are the most precious; Mom kept them in a brown leather album. The top photo is Form 3B Industrial Arts, the workshop class we called ourselves, the noisiest class, full of wood dust. The teacher told us to make a bookshelf; I made a cat hammock instead.
Everyone in a white short, white shirt, and green tie, with side-parted hair, and white Bata shoes that had turned grey from workshop dust.
In 1978, Form 5 Arts 1, completely different, with a white shirt and green pants. Hair grown long covering ears, teachers complained, but for the photo session, everyone combed it neatly.
Jalan-Jalan KL - Chow Kit & Petaling Street
That photo of me in Chow Kit Road, 1978? That was my everyday. Mini Buses number 14 honking, Toyota Corolla and Datsun 120Y jammed, trishaw uncles kayuh, and the smell of Kedai Runcit Eng Huat. Petaling Street with red lanterns hanging, makciks selling vegetables, and Chinese signboards handwritten.
My bus from Greenwood Park to Chow Kit is Mini Bus no. 14. When it comes, the conductor will shout, "Gombak, Chow Kit, Chow Kit, Setapak... masuk dalam lagi... masuk... masuk..." Fare was 60 cents.
Petaling Street was where you hunted for second-hand corduroy pants. It smelled of satay and drains a little, but it was vibrant. Chinese, Malay, and Indian—everyone hung out together. No fights. We spoke rojak—"Boss, how much is this? So expensive! Give a discount lah, we school boys."
Gaya Budak 70an
We all had the same look—long wavy hair, sideburns, and shirts with two front pockets. You see my blue shirt photo from 1979? That was my favorite going-out shirt. Beli kat Chow Kit for RM12. Mahal masa tu.
Kedai Pak Mat & Se Botol Coke
After school lepak at warung kayu. One bottle of Coca-Cola glass shares two orang. Behind me are Biskut Roma & Capri Sun. That was our 7-Eleven.
Kawan-Kawan—"Do you think you could go back..."
That group photo of six of us in 1978? That was my geng Setapak—Jasvinder Singh (lost contact), Fanthasir (Arwah), Ridzuan (lost contact), Mazahari (lost contact), Sham (Arwah), and me.
We had nothing, but we had everything. No WhatsApp, but if you want to jumpa, you just come to the kedai at 5pm. Everyone will be there.
Our hangout?
Sitting by the drain, feet on the road, Fanthasir with the guitar, and Sham is our vocalist.... Watching a car pass by, talking about our school, about the favorite girl from Air Panas Girl School, who later became a drama actress, who I had forgotten her name... and of my favorite Amoy from the nearby stall at Ayer Panas Padang, who always smiles at me... talking about what we wanted to be after school... None of us set foot in university, but we were successful in life too... three of us were in the Security Forces, Sham with the Traffic Police, Ridzuan with the Police Field Force, and me with the Royal Malaysian Navy... the other three, not sure what they be...
Not even one said they wanted to be an influencer—that world didn't even exist...
Could I go back to living like we did in the 70s without internet or smartphones?
Honestly, seminggu boleh lah. Rindu zaman tu. Simple, honest, and every day was an adventure from Setapak to Chow Kit.
"Friends in the 70s were different. Fight in the morning, playing football together in the evening. No blocking, no unfollowing. Even if the fight was big, the next day you'd bring kuih from your mom's house, and just like that you're good again."
Now I'm in my 65 ... my kids ask, "Father, wasn't it boring without a handphone?
I just smile.
Boring?
We never had time to be bored. If we were bored, we invented our own games: marbles, batu seremban (mostly girls), chasing around the field, Galah Panjang, and Konda Kondi until Maghrib, when Mom shouted from afar, "Ooii... tak gheti nak balik ke?"...
Without the internet, we were closer. On those days, when you're far away and miss someone, you write a letter. It took you one whole day to write a 5-page letter to your girlfriend and only 1 1/2 pages to your parents....
That is me and my friends, the Setapak High School boys, who believed friends were more important than grades.
Now KL's has changed. Chow Kit now has a mall and the Mini buses, and Leng Seng and Sri Jaya have gone... but every time when I close my eyes at night, I can still hear the roar of the minibus engine and the conductor shouting, "Gombak, Setapak, Chow Kit... haaa... masuk dalam lagi... masuk, masuk..."
Hj Zulheimy Maamor
23 August 2026: 12.13 p.m.
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