Keeping online chess fair

In the last few days, a dispute has emerged over the eChess competition at SUKMA XXII in Selangor. During the rapid chess event, a game involving Penang's Poh Yu Tian became mired in controversy when he reported that a move had appeared on his electronic chessboard without him touching his mouse.

His protest went before the Appeals Committee, which did not accept that there had been a breach of the online system on the lichess platform. Instead, Yu Tian was instructed to continue the game from the position in which the disputed move had occurred. He refused to do so and the game was eventually forfeited.

I wasn't there, so I don't want to pretend to know exactly what happened or pass judgement on whether the move was the result of a technical problem, human error or, more worryingly, some form of foul play. But the incident does raise a bigger question: how do we ensure fairness when chess is played online?

Chess has always been a game in which the result should be decided by what happens on the board. But when the board is an electronic screen and the players are connected through an online platform, establishing what actually happened can be considerably more complicated.

In an online competition, the concern is not necessarily that a player might cheat. There is also the possibility of a technical failure, a system error or, in the worst case, someone deliberately interfering with the system itself. If a move appears on a player's board without the player apparently making it, the organisers need to be able to determine how that happened before simply requiring the player to continue the game.

This is why proper monitoring is important. A camera can show what a player is doing, while screen recording can show what is happening on the player's computer. But neither can necessarily explain what happened inside the online platform. System and platform activity logs, together with proper technical oversight, could provide a much clearer picture.

The role of the Appeals Committee is equally important. In a dispute such as this, its responsibility should not simply be to decide whether a player's complaint is valid. It must also ensure that both players are treated fairly and impartially. Where there is an unexplained technical incident, the committee should have access to whatever technical evidence is available and satisfy itself that the circumstances have been properly examined before deciding how the game should proceed.

After all, fairness must apply to both players: the player making the complaint as well as the opponent who may otherwise be affected by the decision. The objective should not be to assume that somebody has cheated or that the system must have malfunctioned, but to establish, as far as possible, what actually happened.

Most players, I believe, simply want to play chess and enjoy the competition. But organisers, including the Appeals Committee, have a responsibility to protect both the players and the integrity of the system. A player should not be left having to accept an unexplained move on his board simply because nobody can immediately establish how it got there.

That becomes increasingly important as chess moves further into the eSports arena. If online chess is to be regarded as a serious competitive sport, its systems must be robust enough to deal with both deliberate cheating and genuine technical problems.

Penang has a long history in competitive chess. We should not allow that reputation to be clouded by doubts over the fairness or transparency of an online competition. Rather than waiting for another controversy, perhaps this is the time to put better safeguards in place.

Technology has changed the way we play chess. It should not change the fundamental principle behind the game: the player who plays the better game should win, and everyone should have confidence that the game was played fairly.

Old photograph, old memories

Earlier this month, I was invited to a charity and fellowship dinner organised by the 88 Captains, an organisation whose members comprise many of Penang's local captains of industry, hence the name. The association has been around for about four years, with its primary objective being to raise funds among its members to provide scholarships for needy students in Penang who might otherwise not be able to pursue their further education. So far, some 25 to 30 undergraduates have benefited from this initiative, which I thought was a rather noble cause. There are also ongoing projects to provide schools in the state with educational aid and connect them to the digital world. 

This year's charity dinner raised an impressive RM1,888,888.88. Donors contributed amounts ranging from RM10,000 to RM200,000, with the balance being topped up by the association's generous president, Dr Ooi Eng Hock. Not a bad result for a single evening.

So there I was, with my wife and son, at the Eastern & Oriental Hotel on the evening of 08 August 2026. The current Penang Governor, Ramli Ngah Talib, was in attendance with his wife. As far as I know, this was the first time they had attended an 88 Captains function. And, as usual whenever the Governor is present, the State Protocol Department was there in full force, imposing all sorts of regulations on the organisers. I won't go into the details, though I am sure anyone who has organised similar functions will know what I mean.

What made the evening particularly interesting for me happened right at the end. As the Governor was making his way out of the ballroom, shaking hands with people along the way, I had the opportunity to show him an old photograph that had been sitting in my collection for the past 18 years. His eyes lit up when he recognised himself in the picture. He was seated beside Tan Chin Nam, with me standing between the two of them.

The photograph was taken at a private function in Kuala Lumpur in May 2008, hosted by Tan Chin Nam to welcome Ramli Ngah Talib into the Malaysian chess fraternity after he had become the new president of the Malaysian Chess Federation in 2007. He remained MCF president for several terms, until 2016, so that photograph brought back a little bit of chess history. I have posted the picture on this blog before, but I suppose with some people curious about what I showed him, I'll put it up here again.

Free School reunites

My alma mater, Penang Free School, will celebrate its 210th anniversary in October this year. Not on the 21st of October, though, as that date apparently clashes with the examination schedule. Instead, the main celebrations will take place on the first and third of October, with the school's Speech Day on Thursday the first, followed two days later by a full day of activities organised by the Penang Free School Foundation (Yayasan Penang Free School), culminating in a homecoming dinner that evening.

The celebrations are not merely about marking another milestone in the school's long history. They are also an opportunity to bring the Free School community together, reconnect Old Frees with their old school and, perhaps most importantly, look towards the future.

The programme begins on Thursday, 01 October 2026, with the Penang Free School 210th Speech Day which will recognise students who have excelled in academics, leadership, sports and service. There will also be a thanksgiving and prayer gathering on the second day, but the real action for Old Frees comes the following morning.

Free School Reunites on Saturday, 03 October 2026 will feature sports and other activities, together with a Free School Guide Walkabout. It will give Old Frees from different generations a chance to return to their alma mater, meet old friends and perhaps rediscover some familiar corners of the school. In other words, it is the Homecoming, so Old Frees should mark the date.

That evening, the Penang Free School 210th Anniversary Dinner will bring together alumni, students, teachers, distinguished guests and friends of the school to celebrate 210 years of history and achievement.

There will also be a visit and service at the Founder’s Tomb on Wednesday, 21 October 2026 to pay tribute to Robert Sparke Hutchings whose vision led to the establishment of Penang Free School in 1816.

For 210 years, Penang Free School has produced generations of scholars, sportsmen and gentlemen who have gone on to make their mark in society and the nation. This anniversary is therefore not merely about looking back at what has been achieved. It is an opportunity for the wider Free School family to come together, celebrate what binds us and look towards what lies ahead.

A tale of two records

I was going through my record collection again the other day when I came across two Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young records which, at first glance, might seem to have little in common. One is So Far, the well-known 1974 compilation album. The other is a rather obscure record titled Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Month Celebration Copy. 

The interesting thing is that I always thought of the latter simply as another CSNY compilation. It was only when I started looking into it that I discovered it was actually a promotional record, supposedly marked “Sample Copy Not for Sale”. That puzzled me because I am quite certain I bought my copy from a record shop in town. So much for “not for sale”. Perhaps the record shop was not supposed to sell it, or perhaps promotional records had a habit of finding their way into shops anyway. Whatever the explanation, I clearly remember paying for mine. 

So Far, on the other hand, needs little introduction. Released in 1974, it was put together at a time when Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young were riding an enormous wave of popularity. The group had not produced much new material together since Déjà Vu in 1970, but they were about to embark on a major reunion tour. A compilation was therefore a convenient way of putting some of their best-known recordings together, and it became a huge seller. In fact, So Far went all the way to No. 1 on the Billboard 200. 

The album opens with Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, followed by Long Time Gone, Woodstock, Teach Your Children and the rest of the familiar material. Marrakesh Express is missing, despite having been one of their early hits. Among the group's best-known songs, surely Marrakesh Express would have been an obvious choice. 

There is a little curiosity. Ohio and Find the Cost of Freedom had already appeared in live versions on the 1971 double album 4 Way Street. But So Far was the first time their studio versions appeared on an LP. Until then, the two songs had been released together only as a single. 

And then there is Woodstock. It is one of the best-known songs associated with CSNY, but it was written by Joni Mitchell, who also provided the painting used for the So Far cover. So there is a little more Joni Mitchell in the album than one might initially realise. 

Apparently Graham Nash wasn't particularly enthusiastic about So Far being released in the first place. He regarded it as little more than a cash-in on the reunion tour. If that was his view, history rather proved him wrong. The album topped the charts and became one of CSNY's most successful releases.  

My other record, the Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Month Celebration Copy, is a different animal altogether. It dates from 1971 and was apparently produced by Atlantic Records as part of a promotional “CSNY Month” campaign. Rather than being a regular commercial album, it was a 12-track promotional compilation drawing from the group's earlier records, as well as some solo material. 

Unlike So Far, it includes Marrakesh Express. It also goes beyond the group recordings to include Stephen Stills' Love the One You're With and Bluebird Revisited, as well as Graham Nash's Military Madness and Simple Man. So in some ways it is a more interesting snapshot of the musicians than So Far, even though it was never intended to be a proper greatest-hits album. 

It is also an odd-looking record. The copy I have is the sort of black-and-white promotional pressing that might have been handed to a radio station or record retailer rather than sold to an ordinary customer. The labels carry the familiar warning that it is a sample copy and not for sale. 

Dr Gnoh Lean Tuck

From the archives of The Straits Echo newspaper comes this story about a certain Dr Gnoh Lean Tuck who found worldwide fame a few years later as Dr Wu Lien-Teh.

Dr Gnoh Lean Tuck
The Straits Echo, 9 October 1903, Page 5

DR GNOH LEAN Tuck arrived on Wednesday night at 11 pm from Singapore by the German liner Zieten. Many friends and relatives went on board to meet him and escort him ashore in a steam launch. On reaching the wharf he drove to the Ng Sing Kongsi and then to his parents' home at Green Hall. We are informed that Dr Tuck will stay in Penang until the 15th of this month, when he will sail for Kuala Lumpur in order to start work at the Pathological Institute there.

We have much pleasure in giving our readers today the portrait and an authoritative resume of the career of this distinguished Straits Chinese. Mr Tuck obtained the only Queens Scholarship awarded in 1896, at the early age of 16 years. He left his home on Aug 7th of that year, arrived at Cambridge towards the middle of September, and forthwith passed the College entrance examination. He was admitted as a 'Pensioner' at Emmanuel College under the able tutorship of Mr WN Sharshawd, MA, FRS. He began studying Natural Sciences in conjunction with Medicine, but was somewhat handicapped in this respect during the First Term by having to prepare for the "Little Go." This, however, he passed without any difficulty in December of the same year, and thereupon commenced that enthusiasm for science which has continued until the present day. In June 1897, he passed both parts of the first examination for Medical and Surgical Degrees, and in the succeeding December the first part of the second MB Examination. He was classed in the "First Class" in the Intercollegiate examination in Natural Sciences, June 1897, and was elected to an exhibition of £40. The next December he sent in his name for the second part of the second MB Examination (Anatomy and Physiology), which was and still is perhaps the most crucial point in a Cambridge medical student's career. It was an unusually early period for this difficult attempt, and Mr Tuck earned the well-deserved congratulations of his friends and teachers when he got through it easily.

This success enabled our future Doctor to devote the remaining two Terms entirely to science, and when the Tripos lists appeared in June 1899 nobody was surprised at his name being placed amongst the "First Class Honours' Men." He graduated BA a few days afterwards amidst much cheering from the Undergraduates' Gallery in the Senate House, as he was the first Chinaman who had attained that distinction. The four subjects he chose for his Tripos were Chemistry, Zoology, Human Anatomy and Physiology. The authorities of Emmanuel College honoured him by electing him to a Foundation Scholarship of £50 a year.

It was now the end of his third year. In the following September he competed for and won one of the two University Scholarships (value 55 guineas), at St Mary's Hospital London. This scholarship just covered the expenses in fees during the next three years. Mr Tuck's brilliant career was continued in London, and he carried off the most important prizes, namely, the special prize in clinical surgery (1900), the special prize in clinical medicine (1901), the Cheadle Gold Medal in clinical medicine (1902), the Kerslake Scholarship in Pathology and Bacteriology (1902), a record which had never been accomplished by any St Mary's student before.

He passed the first part of the final examination in April 1901, and the second part in the following December.

He had thus taken five and a quarter years altogether in finishing his students' course, and when he graduated MB he was the first and only one to do so out of over 120 students who entered the University in 1896.

At the expiration of the Queen's Scholarship in his fifth year, his old College elected him to the Research Studentship (value £150.) This enabled Tuck to take instruction in Tropical Diseases under Major R Ross, FRS at the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, and to devote his spare time in the preparation of his MB Thesis on "Certain clinical features of the Blood in Malarial Fever," which degree he obtained in March 1901.

Dr Tuck left England for Germany in April and joined the Hygienic Institute of Halle under Prof Carl Fraenkel. Here he made some important observations on the occurrence of Tetanus Spores in gelatin. The subject of Bacteriology interested him immensely, and he occupied the next six months in this way. He next visited Leipzig, Berlin, Dresden, Vienna, Munich, Zurich and Berne in succession, but only for short periods, and early in September joined the voluntary staff of the Institute Pasteur at Paris under Prof Metchnikoff. This famous home of research, where Pasteur Roux and others had done such marvellous work for so many years, is the most wonderful institution of its kind in the world, and the large number of excellent workers turned out from it have spread its name, fame and benefits to all parts of the earth's surface.

Dr Tuck returned to England at Christmas of last year, and was early this January appointed House Physician to the well-known Brompton Hospital for Consumption, London, after having graduated MA, a few days previously. Here he served under Dr Percy Kidd, Dr Robert Maguire and Dr Samuel Habershon, all famous London consultants. During this time he completed the Thesis for the MD degree, which he had begun in Germany and continued in France. It was duly presented to and accepted by the Regius Professor last March, so he will now only have to wait another one and a half years for his full degree.

The appointment of House Physician terminated in July, and after a brief holiday in North Wales and some farewell calls on old friends, he left London on August 28th and reached here last night via Singapore, where he was for five days the guest of the Hon Lim Boon Keng. 

It should be added here that Dr Gnoh Lean Tuck's popularity in England and elsewhere was great, and the regret in leaving that country was mutual on both sides. The farewell dinner given in his honour by his many friends in England and presided over by his old Tutor, now chief of the Meteorological Office, London, was a result of the great esteem in which he was held by many English scholars.

To Mr Hargreaves particularly, we are sure, Dr Tuck's return will give the greatest pleasure, since it was he who was mainly responsible for moulding his old pupil's character, and thus fitting him for the honour which he has brought back to those who are near and dear to him, to his admiring countrymen, and to a host of friends of various nationalities.

Town hall meeting

Earlier this month, I attended this meeting at the Penang Town Hall as the representative of the Swee Cheok Tong (Seh Quah Kongsi). Called by the Penang Island City Council (MBPP) and chaired by its mayor, Rajendran P Anthony, it brought together representatives from numerous Chinese clan associations in George Town.

The meeting began with a presentation from the Heritage Department which highlighted the dos and don’ts of carrying out repair works on heritage buildings in the core and buffer zones of the UNESCO-listed city. It was a reminder that owning or occupying a heritage building comes with responsibilities. Old buildings in the protected zone cannot simply be treated like any other property, and a decision to knock down a wall, replace a roof or alter its façade needs careful consideration.

The presentation covered the conservation guidelines and the Special Area Plan (Rancangan Kawasan Khas) for the George Town World Heritage Site. The emphasis was on ensuring that any development or repair work is compatible with the site's UNESCO status and that the historic character of George Town is not gradually eroded in the name of improvement. 

This was the second Town Hall session organised by MBPP that I attended, the first being last year. I learnt from the circulated minutes that there had been another one in February this year, attended by a handful of clan associations, apparently the bigger ones. I’m quite certain that the notice of that meeting never reached us at the Quah Kongsi. Was there a misdelivery? I don’t know. Nevertheless, I welcome the idea of having these meetings every six months, which should provide a regular channel of communication between the city council and the various stakeholders within the World Heritage Site.

The Town Hall meeting provided an opportunity for both sides to sit down and talk. After the presentation, the floor was opened to representatives of the clan associations, who raised their views, suggestions and concerns on matters affecting heritage conservation. This was perhaps the more important part of the afternoon because it allowed MBPP to hear directly from people who actually own a large number of these historic properties.

The mayor also addressed the elephant in the room, namely the recent collapse of a termite-infested beam at a house in Armenian Street, which injured two foreign tourists. He said that while the council would work with the various stakeholders to inspect and monitor the condition of the buildings in the UNESCO zone, the responsibility for carrying out the necessary repairs still rests with the owners.

Rajendran said the Town Hall was intended to strengthen the relationship between MBPP and the community, explain the council's policies and obtain direct feedback from those who play a role in preserving George Town's heritage.

That is really what a town hall meeting should be about. Not simply telling people what they can and cannot do, but explaining why the rules exist and listening to the difficulties that arise when those rules are applied in real life.

21st century transformation

I nearly did a double take when I saw a Bernama Lifestyle article yesterday announcing that Penang Free School would be celebrating its 210th anniversary this October. Two hundred and ten? It somehow felt like only yesterday that we were celebrating the school's Bicentenary in 2016. In reality, 10 years have quietly slipped by. Perhaps that is what happens as one grows older. Milestones that once seemed a lifetime apart suddenly begin arriving with surprising regularity.

According to the Bernama report published on 18 Aug 2026, Penang Free School will hold a simple three-day celebration from the first to the third of October at the school. Organising chairman Ivan Ooi Jieun Vei explained that this will be the first major anniversary celebration since the Bicentenary a decade ago.

But why celebrate the 210th anniversary instead of waiting for the 250th? After all, Free School had previously marked its 100th, 150th and 200th anniversaries with grand celebrations. Surely the next logical milestone would have been another 50 years later.

Ivan's answer was practical. The decision, he told Bernama, was not made hastily but was taken in the best interests of the school and its future. This year's celebration is not simply about commemorating another anniversary. More importantly, it is intended as a rallying cry for Old Frees everywhere to come together and support the school, its teachers and present-day students. That is the real significance of the 210th celebration. Not about looking backwards but looking forwards.

The focal point of the celebration will be the establishment of the Penang Free School Digital Transformation Fund. Before anyone gets the wrong impression, this is not because Penang Free School has suddenly been left to fend for itself. Ivan made it clear that, like every government school in Malaysia, Penang Free School is fully funded and managed by the Ministry of Education. Operational expenses, teachers' salaries and infrastructure development remain the government's responsibility.

The new fund is intended to complement public funding, not replace it. Government funding keeps the school running while the proposed Digital Transformation Fund is meant to help accelerate its transformation into a school equipped for the demands of the future.

As someone who left Free School more than half a century ago, I can appreciate how dramatically education has changed. When I was a student, life revolved largely around textbooks, examinations and the traditional professions. Parents hoped their children would become doctors, lawyers, engineers, teachers or perhaps go into business. Those were the respectable career paths most of us grew up hearing about.

Today, the educational landscape is almost unrecognisable. Artificial intelligence, data science, robotics, coding and digital technology have become part of everyday conversation. Industries that did not even exist when many Old Frees were in school are now offering careers for today's students.

Ivan was quoted in the Bernama article as saying that the school must help students realise their potential not merely as scholars but also as future members of the workforce and leaders in the 21st century. Education has never stood still. Every generation has had to prepare its young for a world different from the one their parents knew. Our generation learned to use slide rules before calculators became commonplace. Later generations grew up with personal computers, followed by the Internet and smartphones. Today's students are entering a world where artificial intelligence may become as ordinary a tool as a pen or calculator. Whether we like it or not, schools must evolve alongside society. And Penang Free School, with its long history stretching back to 1816, has survived precisely because it has continued adapting through two centuries of change. 

The celebrations themselves will be spread over three days. The first of October begins with the school's 210th Speech Day, brought forward from the traditional 21st of October because of clashes with examination dates. Speech Day will be held in the school hall from 8am until noon, with Old Frees welcome to attend.

Then comes the third of October, which promises to be a rather lively reunion day under the banner Free School Reunites. Old and current Frees, together with former and present teachers and staff, will gather for sports and fellowship from morning until early afternoon. There will also be a Free School Guide walkabout of the school that I shall be conducting together with my friend, Siang Jin.

Yes, that's something close to my heart. It is always nice when people have an opportunity to walk through the old corridors and rediscover the many stories hidden behind familiar classrooms and buildings. Schools are not merely bricks and mortar. They are repositories of memories accumulated by generations of students who have passed through the same gates.

The highlight of the celebrations will be the 210th Anniversary Dinner at Penang Free School itself on the evening of the third of October. After all, how many institutions can boast of having their former students returning to dine in the very school that shaped their teenage years, some 50 or 60 years after they first wore its uniform?

For many of us, Free School is more than an old school. It is where lifelong friendships began. It is where teachers left impressions that remained long after their lessons were forgotten. It is where boys arrived as awkward adolescents and departed as young men, each carrying different memories of the same classrooms, the same assembly ground and the same ringing school bell.

What I found most encouraging in the Bernama article was Ivan's insistence that the Digital Transformation Fund is not about raising money merely to buy the latest gadgets. Its broader purpose is to develop educators, strengthen STEM education, encourage artificial intelligence, robotics and coding, build stronger links with industry and ultimately help create the talent pipeline that Penang's future economy will depend upon. That is a much bigger ambition than filling classrooms with computers.

Technology by itself does not transform education. But if additional resources can help Free School provide opportunities beyond what normal public funding allows, then I believe it is an initiative worth supporting.

The school has produced generations of scholars, professionals, entrepreneurs, public servants, sportsmen and people from every imaginable walk of life. There is no reason why future generations should not enjoy even greater opportunities simply because the world around them has become more technologically demanding.

A school that is 210 years old should become more than a museum piece. Its history deserves to be preserved, certainly, but its future deserves to be invested in as well. So perhaps celebrating the 210th anniversary, instead of waiting another 40 years, is not such a strange idea after all. The Bicentenary was a magnificent occasion that celebrated two centuries of history. The 210th anniversary will have a different purpose altogether. It is an opportunity to bring Old Frees together, not merely to reminisce about the past but to contribute towards preparing Penang Free School for the next generation. Will I see you there?

Legend of seven maidens

It is that time of the year when, in the midst of observing the month-long Hungry Ghost Festival, my family looks forward to celebrating the legend of the Seven Fairy Maidens (七姊仙女), sometimes also known as the Seven Fairy Sisters. There are some stories based around the seven celestial sisters but the most famous is the romance between the youngest sister, the Seventh Maiden, and a mortal man named Tong Eng (董永).

And before going any further, I want to say that this story is sometimes confused with the much better-known legend of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl which is celebrated during the Mid-Autumn Festival that comes about a month from now. Both involve a mortal man, a celestial woman and an unhappy separation. But they are two different stories.

Here, I want to tell the story of Tong Eng who was a poor young man whose greatest virtue was his devotion to his father. He was so poor that he could not afford his father a proper burial. So, in order to raise the money, Tong Eng sold himself into servitude. It was apparently this extraordinary act of filial devotion that caught the attention of the Seventh Maiden. Moved by what she had seen, she descended from Heaven to the mortal world and married him.

But being married to a celestial being did not immediately solve Tong Eng's problems. He was still bound by his agreement to serve his new master. And so, the Seventh Maiden decided to do something about it. She approached the master and offered to weave ten bolts of silk overnight. When she presented the silk to the master the next morning, he was so delighted that he reduced Tong Eng's period of servitude from years to just 100 days.

For a while, it seemed that the couple might actually have found their happy ending except that Heaven had other ideas. Once the heavenly authorities discovered that one of their fairies had married a mortal, this breach was reported to the Jade Emperor who ordered the Seventh Maiden to return to Heaven.

She had little choice but to leave her husband. Love was found, happiness was briefly enjoyed, and then the heavens decided that the relationship could not continue. It's a tale of heartbreak. There are later versions of this legend which are somewhat kinder to the couple. In these, the Seventh Maiden was eventually stripped of her immortality, allowing her to return to Tong Eng and remain with him permanently.

But to me, the legend of the Seven Sisters is most relevant in the traditions surrounding the Chhit-Chiah (七姊仙女) Festival, which falls on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month. In my family, the worship of the Seven Maidens is carried out after 11pm on the evening of the sixth day, which is tonight, when the calendar is considered to have crossed over into the seventh day. I remember how, days or even weeks before this day, my grandmother and mother would have started preparing for the occasion. They would purchase perfume or the square-boxed hun pniah, or even make their own bedak sejok, all of which were offered to the Seven Maidens. These are small details from my childhood that have stayed with me, even though I probably paid little attention at the time to the significance of what they were doing.

By the way, the Seven Maidens don't appear only in the Tong Eng story. They make a brief appearance in the classic Chinese novel Journey to the East, where they were celestial peach-pickers. Their job was to tend to the peaches in Heaven, which was a rather important responsibility given the magical properties of those fruits. Unfortunately, they happened to awaken the Monkey King. And Sun Wukong was not particularly pleased when he discovered that he had not been invited to a heavenly banquet. The predictable result was that he cast a spell that left the seven sisters frozen.

There are also regional variations of the Seven Maidens story. In Hainan, for instance, local tradition tells of the seven sisters coming to the aid of the indigenous Li people when they were threatened by a demon. After defeating it and protecting the people, the sisters eventually became seven mountain peaks. These variations are particularly interesting in that they show how a familiar group of mythological figures can acquire completely different identities as their stories travel from one part of China to another. That is one reason old legends survive. They are passed from one generation to another, picked up by different communities and reshaped according to local beliefs, customs and circumstances.

The Seven Maidens may be celestial beings but their stories are really about rather earthly matters like filial devotion, love, sacrifice, skill and the choices that have to be made between love and duty. And perhaps that is why the story of Tong Eng and the Seventh Maiden has survived for so long. Fairies may live in Heaven, but the problems they face are still very much down-to-earth.

Nomadic statue

It seems quite appropriate for me to say something about the Francis Light statue at Fort Cornwallis as I have written quite a bit about this statue in the past. In fact, I have probably written more about it than most people would care to read. But having followed its movements over the years, I couldn't resist taking another look after Fort Cornwallis reopened following its extensive conservation works.

The last time I saw the statue, it was standing at ground level within Fort Cornwallis, silently eyeing visitors as they entered through the western gate. It was a fairly prominent position, although not, as far as I was concerned, the most historically appropriate one.

Then the fort closed for restoration as part of the North Seafront Programme, with Think City involved in the conservation and redevelopment of the site. I had heard that the statue would be repositioned, but there was little information about where it would eventually end up. I began to wonder whether this might finally be an opportunity to put it somewhere more appropriate. After all, the statue was not originally erected inside Fort Cornwallis. 

This is something I had written about previously after digging through old newspaper reports. When the statue was unveiled in 1939, it stood outside the fort, on the grass verge in Light Street between two of the bastions, opposite the District and Police Courts. Those courts are now replaced by the Penang State Legislative Assembly. The statue was deliberately positioned there with Fort Cornwallis as its backdrop and facing the courts.

So when I heard the statue was going to be moved again, I thought perhaps it might finally go back there. But it didn't. As I subsequently discovered, there was a rather obvious reason. The conservation works have restored the moat along the southern side of the fort. And once I saw the completed moat, I realised that putting Francis Light back in exactly the same spot was no longer viable unless they intended to put him in the middle of the moat!

That would certainly make for an interesting monument, but somehow I don't think that was ever going to happen. So while I had to revise my expectations, I still kept an eye on the southern side of the fort in the months leading up to the reopening. I couldn't see any obvious preparation for the statue, so I had a feeling that Francis Light wasn't going back there.

Sure enough, after Fort Cornwallis reopened to the public on the 26th of July, I went looking for him inside the fort. This time, he had been placed in the north-western corner, in the bastion there. And the area around him had been roped off with a sign announcing that conservation work was in progress.

So there he stands now, looking down at the centre of the fort while visitors look at him from behind a barrier. I suppose Francis Light has been moved around so many times that he must be quite accustomed to having his address changed.

The statue has had a rather nomadic existence. It was commissioned for the 150th anniversary of Penang's founding and unveiled in 1939. It subsequently moved to several locations, including a spell in front of the Penang Museum, before eventually returning to Fort Cornwallis in 2003. And even then, it didn't return to where it had originally stood.

There is also the little matter of his missing accessories. The bronze statue originally had a sword, but that disappeared during the Japanese Occupation and only returned after the War. The brass plaque  has also disappeared, but it was still there when the statue stood in the Museum grounds.

So here we have Francis Light, minus his sword and plaque, moved around the civic precinct several times and now installed in another corner of Fort Cornwallis, where he is currently being kept behind a barrier. The poor fella has had a rather unsettled afterlife.

To be fair, I don't know what considerations went into deciding where to put him this time. There may be perfectly good conservation or practical reasons for his present location. And having seen the restored moat, I can now understand why simply returning him to his 1939 position wasn't as easy as I had originally imagined.

Nor do I want to take anything away from the good conservation work at Fort Cornwallis. The fort has undergone a considerable transformation and it is gratifying to see a historic site that had been looking rather tired for years receiving some much-needed attention.

Perhaps once the conservation work around the statue is completed, the barrier will come down and Francis Light will finally be allowed to mingle with visitors again. Perhaps there are further plans for him that I know nothing about. Who knows?

After all these years of following Francis Light around Penang, I've learnt not to assume that I know where he is going next. For now, he has found another home inside Fort Cornwallis. Let's just hope this one lasts a little longer.

Today is Penang's 240th anniversary

On the 240th anniversary of the landing at Penaggar Point to found Penang as a British settlement by Captain Francis Light, I'm reproducing here a story that had appeared in The Straits Budget newspaper on 20 August 1936. The Straits Budget was a long‑running English‑language newspaper published in Singapore during the British colonial period, with circulation across the Straits Settlements of Singapore, Penang and Malacca. It played a distinctive role in the press landscape of British Malaya well into the 1950s.

PENANG 1786-1936 
The Anniversary of the Hoisting Of the Flag On First British Foothold In Malaya 
By JAMES F AUGUSTIN

EXACTLY one hundred and fifty years ago, on Aug 11, 1786, Captain Francis Light founded the Settlement of Penang. Charged by the Bengal Government with the task of establishing the new colony, he formally took possession of the island "in the name of King George and for the use of the Honourable East India Company."

The actual ceremony took place at noon, when everyone assembled under the flagstaff and Captain Light read the Act of Possession. All the officers then assisted in hoisting the flag (the Old Jack) and the artillery and ships fired a salute and the marines three volleys.

Boyhood In Suffolk

Captain Light whose memory we honour today, was born at Dallinghoo, a parish near Woodbridge in Suffolk in 1740. Adopted and educated by William Negus, a relative of Milton and a son of Colonel Francis Negus, who held a prominent position at the Court of George I, he was sent to Seckford’s Grammar School at Woodbridge. On leaving School he entered the Royal Navy as a midshipman on board HMS Arrogant in 1761.

Four years later he resigned his commission and sailed for Calcutta as a passenger in the ship Clive. There he joined the Mercantile Marine as master of a country ship trading between Indian, Siamese and Malayan ports. In addition to his ordinary duties he acted as representative of the Madras firm of Messrs Jourdan, Sullivan and De Souza, which had traded for many years with Kedah, where it had maintained a factory since 1763.

Light made Salang (Junk Ceylon, now Tongkah) his headquarters and became very proficient in the Malay and Siamese languages. He also acquired a knowledge of native customs and won the confidence of the people.

Ever since 1763 the Directors of the East India Company had been seeking for a good naval station to the east of the Bay of Bengal, which would also serve as a commercial factory more central than Bencoolen in Sumatra and as a port of call for merchantmen en route to China. Light was well aware of this, and in 1771 he wrote to Warren Hastings suggesting that Penang would be a suitable place.

Nothing happened at the time and in 1780 Light went to Calcutta with another proposal that Salang, and not Penang, should be occupied. A scheme was drawn up for the occupation of Salang through private subscription but with the consent of the Governor-General-in-Council (Warren Hastings). Nothing was done however, because ships and men could not be spared owing to the War of the American Revolution and wars with the French and the Dutch which were then being waged.

Rebuff At Acheen

The need for a British port increased, especially in the face of opposition from the Dutch and Portuguese, who had settlements on the Peninsula and in Sumatra. They allowed trade at their own settlements and nowhere else. The Bengal Government in 1784 sent Mr Kinloch to found a settlement at Acheen in 1784 but he had to return owing to the hostility of the natives. Light was in Calcutta when Kinloch returned in 1786.

He immediately informed the Governor-General, Sir John Macpherson, who had succeeded Hastings, that he had exercised his personal influence with Sultan Abdullah of Kedah, who had agreed to cede the island of Penang to the East India Company for an annual subsidy of 6,000 Spanish dollars. Negotiations between the Company and the Sultan were thereupon opened and on February 23, 1786, the Governor-General-in-Council approved of the settlement of Penang. On May 2, 1786, Light was commissioned to treat with the Sultan and "vested with the charge and superintendence of the Island of Penang on the part of the Company."

Light lost no time in sailing for Kedah, where he arrived on June 29 in command of the Company's snow Eliza (a snow was a small type of sailing craft) and with a force of one hundred Bengal marines, thirty lascars, fifteen European artillerymen and five officers. Anchoring at Kuala Kedah, where he found two merchantmen, the Prince Henry and the Speedwell, he sent an officer ashore to inform the Sultan of his arrival. The next morning Light himself went ashore and was received by the Sultan's shahbandar and saluted by the guns of the fort and by three volleys from the marines.

On July 1 he again went ashore with the Governor-General's letter and presents, amid salutes fired by the fort, ships and marines. He was received by a guard of honour composed of Malays with colours flying, and, preceded by state trumpeters, was led to the Laxamana's (Admiral's) house where a canopy was erected and the King's representative, a Syed, received the letter and guns were again fired. The presents consisted, among other things, of brass-barrelled blunderbusses and gold and silver brocades, but as these were not considered sufficient, one hundred muskets were added.

Received By The Raja

Negotiations followed, and on July 3, after receiving a message from the Raja, Light, accompanied by a sergeant of artillery, a dozen marines and drums and fifes, came upstream to Alor Star, then, as now, the capital. He reached the town only on the following day and was received without any state by the Raja, who was much troubled at a passage in the Governor-General's letter which he did not understand, for it seemed to threaten him with pains and penalties if he did not comply with the Governor-General's request.

Light pointed out that there must be some mistake in the translation of the document and the Raja then appeared to be satisfied with regard to the explicit passage. After reading the translation again to his visitor he obliged Light to sign it. Six days later, Light took leave of the Raja and reached the Kuala with the signed treaty of cession.

He spent the next three days in embarking the troops and the stores, and on the 14th at 8 pm he sailed on the Eliza in company with the Prince Henry and Speedwell and anchored off Pulau Tikus Island on the 15th. With the help of a flood tide and a light breeze the little fleet ran into Penang harbour and anchored in thirteen fathoms of water within musket-shot of shore.

The first two days Light stayed on board, surveying the harbour and testing the anchorages, and on the 17th, he disembarked Lieutenant Gray and the marines on Point Penaggar, near the Esplanade. The troops were at once set to clear the ground, which did not prove to be an easy task, the wood being "so exceeding hard that the tools double like a piece of lead."

The Europeans landed on the following day and the island soon presented a busy appearance. Attap houses were erected with attaps from Kedah, wells were dug and tents were pitched. Almost a month passed away in the performance of these first labours.

George Town Named

On August 10 two of the Company's ships, the Vansittart and the Valentine, arrived off the island and the formal ceremony of taking possession took place, Light naming the settlement George Town after the Prince of Wales and the fort Cornwallis after the Governor-General.

The new colony progressed rapidly and by 1789 the population had increased to about ten thousand. The task of governing this mixed multitude fell entirely upon the shoulders of Light himself.

In 1789 Light went to Calcutta and was able to inform the authorities (who regarded his settlement with some jealousy) that the imports had already reached six hundred thousand dollars per annum. In the following year, prompted by his high sense of responsibility to the settlement, he petitioned the Government in Calcutta for an increase in his salary of one thousand rupees per mensem to enable him to give up trade because he was of the opinion that the duties of government were not consistent with his trading activities. It is not recorded whether this request was granted but it is sufficient to reveal the uprightness of his character, for as Superintendent and principal merchant he had every opportunity of enriching himself in those lax days.

Light's Death

In January, 1794, Light petitioned that a trained civilian should succeed him and that a regular system of administering justice should be established. This was virtually his last act, for later on in the same year he went down with malaria, to which he had been subject for many years, and died on Oct 21, to the great grief of the whole Settlement.

Francis Light has been described as "a worthy precursor of Sir Stamford Raffles" and as "a man of sound sense, probity and judgment - active, practical and moderate." His name survives in Light Street and in Francis Light School, Penang. His tomb lies in the middle of the Protestant cemetery in Northam Road but there is also a monument opposite the portico of St. George's Church, Penang, where a memorial tablet let into the wall of the canopy bears this inscription:

In Memory

of

FRANCIS LIGHT, Esquire

Who first established this Island

as an

English Settlement and was many

years

Governor.

Born in the County of

Suffolk in England

AND died

October 21st,

1794.

IN HIS CAPACITY AS GOVERNOR

the Settlers and Natives were greatly

attached to him, and by his

death had to mourn the loss

of one who had watched

over their interests

and cares

AS A FATHER.

First GM norm for Poh

After a rather forgettable first year playing in Europe, Penang's chess prodigy Poh Yu Tian entered his second season on the European chess circuit with a vengeance. A year older now at 17, he had obviously learnt his lessons well. The experience of playing stronger opposition, dealing with the inevitable setbacks and adjusting to the demands of tournament chess at this level seemed to have done him a world of good. 

This time, Poh wasn't merely in Europe to gain experience. He was there to make his mark. Over this summer, he played in two tournaments in France and Germany, taking on a succession of grandmasters and established international players. By the end of the two events, he had pushed his rating up to 2493 and, more importantly, secured his first-ever Grandmaster norm.

Poh's European campaign began at the Aix-en-Provence Masters in France, where he was seeded 68th in the tournament for players rated above 2100. He certainly wasn't expected to set the place on fire but that's exactly what he proceeded to do.

Poh started steadily, drawing his first two games. Then he found his stride, winning three games in a row, including a victory over GM Jan Malek, rated 2570. Two more draws followed, this time against Hungarian GMs Gleb Dudin and Gergely Kantor, rated 2577 and 2537 respectively. After seven rounds, he had accumulated five points and was looking good for a strong finish. Then came the eighth round when he ran into French GM Pierre Laurent-Paoli, rated 2536. A mistake cost him the game and ended his hopes of a top-20 finish. But there was still one more round to play and he bounced back by beating GM Maxim Rodshtein, rated around 2600. That victory was worth more than just the point on the scoreboard. It showed that he could put a bad result behind him and get on with the next game. That ability to recover from a setback would prove even more important when he moved on to Germany.

At the Sparkassen Chess Trophy A-Open, Poh again found himself playing against much stronger opposition. He held the highest seed, GM Matthias Blübaum, rated 2689, to a draw and then he defeated GM David Navara, rated 2619. These were the sort of results that showed Poh was no longer simply a promising junior looking for experience. He was capable of taking points from grandmasters who had spent many years competing at the highest level.

But once again, things didn't go entirely according to plan. In again the eighth round, Poh faced Indian GM Surya Shekhar Ganguly, rated 2556, and lost. And this time the defeat came with considerably more at stake. With only one round remaining, his GM norm chances were hanging by a thread. He had to win against his final-round opponent, IM Max Hess, rated 2385. Poh had White and opened with the Ruy Lopez, Anti-Berlin. The game developed into a tense middlegame, with both players making inaccuracies under pressure. Then came 47...Ke4?? Hess had blundered. Poh seized the opportunity and never looked back. By move 57, Hess's defences finally collapsed. In a must-win situation, Poh had won on demand. That victory gave him a 2630 tournament performance rating and with it, his first-ever GM norm. It will also push his published rating to 2493 in the next FIDE list, one point ahead of Yeoh Li Tian, Malaysia's first grandmaster.

This first GM norm is obviously the headline achievement, but I think there is something more significant about Poh's performance in France and Germany. Across his last ten games against grandmasters, five in France and five in Germany, he produced a performance rating of roughly 2623, with a positive score against them. He has beaten several 2500-plus players, held his own against opposition rated considerably higher and, just as importantly, shown that he can recover when things go wrong.

That last point may prove particularly valuable. A young player can be perfectly capable of calculating variations and finding good moves, yet still feel nervy when he sees "GM" in front of his opponent's name. Poh seems to be getting over that psychological barrier. After beating Rodshtein, Navara and other strong players, and bouncing back from defeats when it mattered, he should now be approaching GM opposition with considerably more confidence. And that could prove just as important as the rating points he has accumulated.

At 2493, Poh is now tantalisingly close to the 2500 rating required for the Grandmaster title when he acquires all three norms eventually. I don't think breaking through 2500 will be the difficult part. The second and third GM norms are another matter. They will require strong performances in the right tournaments and, naturally, there will be more losses along the way. Chess doesn't hand out titles simply because a player is talented or has one good tournament. 

But having watched Poh's progress, I don't think either of the remaining norms is beyond him. He is also now among the world's top ten players in his age group and younger. And the most encouraging part is that he is still improving. Indeed, from what I have seen this summer, he appears to be improving by leaps and bounds.

He isn't a 17-year-old who has suddenly stumbled upon one good tournament. He is a young player who seems to be learning from every experience, including the painful ones. Last year, Europe was largely an exercise in finding out what it was like to play against stronger opposition there. This year, Poh has gone back with a better understanding of what was required, and has started beating that opposition.

As someone who has been involved in Penang chess for more than five decades, I find that immensely encouraging. Poh Yu Tian is no longer just a promising young Malaysian player. He has his first GM norm. He is mere points away from 2500. And, perhaps most importantly, he now knows that he belongs at the table with the grandmasters. The rest is just a matter of finding the right moves.

Malaysian real book

I haven't attended a George Town Festival programme in years. When was the last time? I can't remember, but it was definitely before Covid-19. Funny how we've started classifying events as "pre-Covid" and "post-Covid", almost as though history has been split into two distinct eras. Anyway, I remember my last George Town Festival outing. It was to the old Soonstead mansion in Northam Road for 2 Houses, a play that required the audience to move between two neighbouring buildings. The houses themselves became part of the performance, blurring the line between theatre and reality.

This year, it wasn't a play that brought me back. Instead, it was a concert called The Malaysian Real Book II: Past to Present, part of this year's George Town Festival. To be honest, I had never even heard of The Malaysian Real Book. Apparently, the inaugural concert had been staged last year and was successful enough to earn an encore. It had completely passed me by.

My invitation came from an unexpected source. See Ming, a dear ex-JobStreet colleague from Kuala Lumpur, had planned to meet me on the fourth of August while she was in Penang. Unfortunately, I already had another engagement. Rather than abandon the idea altogether, she surprised me by buying a ticket for the following evening's performance before flying off on her own travels. It was one of those small acts of kindness that catches you by surprise.

So on the fifth, I found myself stepping into the Majestic Theatre in Khoo Sian Ewe Road, a venue I had not stepped into since 2019. Instinctively, I looked for a strategic position. The front rows were all occupied by the well-connected, but the back row suited me perfectly. Only three seats made up my row, mine and those of an elderly Caucasian couple sitting beside me. Little did I know they would become part of my evening's entertainment.

The concert itself was unlike the jazz performances most people would probably expect. There were no familiar American standards, no Gershwin, no Duke Ellington, no Fly Me to the Moon. Instead, this was unapologetically Malaysian.

The three featured vocalists, Janet Lee, Ida Mariana and Yon Lynn, explored a repertoire that drew on the country's multicultural musical traditions. Some songs were well known, others completely unknown to me, but all had been lovingly reimagined through the language of jazz. Backing them was the WVC Jazz Quintet under the direction of Tay Cher Siang, whose musicians seemed equally at home accompanying a gentle ballad, a lively Hokkien number or an energetic jazz improvisation. Keeping the evening flowing were Gareth Richards and Melina, who introduced the songs with warmth and humour without ever overstaying their welcome. 

As I listened, I occasionally glanced sideways at my Caucasian neighbours. Their expressions became increasingly difficult to read. It wasn't that the music lacked quality. Far from it. The problem, I suspect, was that the concert demanded a familiarity with Malaysian culture that overseas visitors simply could not be expected to possess.

When the singers launched into Malay classics, Penang Hokkien songs and Mandarin compositions, much of the audience responded with smiles of recognition. Heads nodded. Feet tapped. Some quietly sang along. The couple beside me sat politely through it all. And after about an hour, they quietly stood up and left. They never came back. I almost felt sorry for them because they had missed the second half, which I thought was even more enjoyable than the first.

The programme wandered effortlessly across Malaysia's musical landscape. There were songs by P Ramlee, instrumental compositions by contemporary Malaysian jazz musicians, a charming Penang Hokkien bossa number, Chinese melodies with unmistakable Nanyang flavours and, towards the end, Francisca Peter's Setia, which had much of the audience singing along. This was jazz wearing a Malaysian passport. The melodies, languages and stories belonged unmistakably to us.

Too often, when we speak about preserving our heritage, we think only of old buildings, temples, clan houses or food. Rarely do we include music in that conversation. Yet Malaysian music is every bit as much a part of our cultural identity. Projects like The Malaysian Real Book remind us that our musical heritage deserves to be documented, celebrated and performed, not simply archived away as memories of another generation.

When the concert finally ended after the encore, the audience were already on their feet in enthusiastic applause. Many had spent the evening clapping along. A few even danced. It was obvious this wasn't merely another jazz concert. It was a celebration of who we are.

As I walked out into the warm Penang night, I couldn't help looking back at the brightly lit Majestic Theatre. I found myself thinking that perhaps See Ming had done me a favour without even realising it. Had she not bought that ticket, I would probably have stayed home and remained blissfully unaware that such a remarkable project existed.

Sometimes all it takes is one thoughtful friend to nudge us out of our routines and remind us that there is still plenty happening around us. And perhaps that's the greatest gift George Town Festival continues to offer after all these years: the chance to discover, in our own backyard, something I never knew I was missing.