In the 80s..

In the 80s, there is something stupid called TV license. If you have a TV, you have to pay the annual license fees. I remember last time when we heard some strangers knocking on our neighbors doors, we will go and see if they are from the government checking on the TV license. Normally they are 2-3 malays going from door to door at our flats. If this happens, my mum will panic and close the door as if no one is at home. I think once she even hide our small tv in the cupboard. But mostly, it’s false alarm. Come on, who so stupid go and pay for such license?

There were also conman who came by saying they are from the government, need to do fogging at RMxx per house. Or checking on the gas tube for safety and compliance with government regulatory. Or selling pots at unbelievable cheap price but then with string attached. Last time where got internet to check all this. Some aunties will fall into the traps of this conjobs. My mum also kena conned into buying a set of useless pots!

Besides checking on TV license, we are often raided by sales people. There are people selling all sort of stuff from house to house that time. Got a man sell detergent, one lady sell bras, one old man come and sharpen all your knives and scissors, people asking for donations, one man selling butter buns, a lady come and collect old clothes and 1 guy even sells Loufuji! My favorite is the Indian rotiman. He will park his motor and put the bread on a big cardboard box and walk around the flat, yelling ‘Roti…’, ‘Roti….’ Sometimes, we will go to his motor and curi some Mamee..

Those were the days when I was a kid, where there is not much to think about and live a carefree happy life with other kids at the flats…