Stories & Memories

We were supposed to pick Mamu Ian up from the airport at 2pm. By 4pm, there was still no sign of him. Phones were ringing off the hook. Auntie was convinced he'd been kidnapped.

Turns out he'd spotted a man selling samosas outside the terminal, got chatting, and ended up helping the man sell his entire stock before remembering he had a family waiting for him.

He arrived home with a bag of leftover samosas and absolutely no remorse. We still bring it up at every family gathering.

Nobody knew Mamu Ian could fix a washing machine. He certainly never mentioned it. So when ours broke down the week before Christmas with six loads of laundry waiting, we were in a panic.

He walked in, looked at it for thirty seconds, disappeared to his car, came back with a toolbox the size of a small suitcase, and had it running in twenty minutes.

When we asked where he learned that, he just shrugged and said 'YouTube.' The man is full of surprises.

Mamu Ian announced he was going to cook for the whole family. Thirty-two people. He had one barbecue, a bag of charcoal, and absolute confidence.

What followed was a six-hour event that somehow became the best meal any of us had ever eaten. He had a system, he had a playlist, and he had a spatula he refused to let anyone else touch.

We've tried to recreate it every year since. It's never quite the same. Some things only work when Mamu Ian is in charge.

Mamu Ian volunteered to teach me to drive. My parents were too nervous. He was not nervous at all, which was either very reassuring or slightly alarming.

He brought snacks. He brought a playlist. He told me stories the entire time so I'd stop overthinking. By the end of the first lesson I'd stalled the car four times and laughed until I cried.

I passed my test six months later. He was more proud than I was. He still tells everyone he taught me.