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Surviving 13 hours with former Pahang strongman Adnan Yaakob

“Haaa! Haris?”

Tan Sri Adnan Yaakob’s deep baritone voice boomed through the hall. He strode into his office in Yayasan Pahang, in Kuantan, purposefully. Those who were smart enough to step out of his way, avoided being steamrolled into a pulp.

Me? I just stood there like a deer in headlights.

Clad in a white, short-sleeved, freshly-pressed shirt and a songkok, Adnan sought me out from my colleagues. It was a Friday, the start of the moratorium on bauxite mining that had been announced by the federal government on Jan 15, 2016.

As the menteri besar of the largest state in Peninsular Malaysia, he held a vice-like grip on Pahang for two terms, from 1999. Now, he held a vice-like grip on my hand.

My visit stemmed from a series of articles that had been critical of Adnan and his handling of the unfettered and wanton mining of bauxite in various parts of Pahang.

For two years, the more than 400,000 residents of the state capital of Kuantan had been forced to breathe in choking red dust, ever since it was announced in October 2014 that bauxite had been discovered in Felda Bukit Goh.

Analysis of soil and water samples revealed huge traces of heavy metals and radiation, including thorium-232, thorium-230, uranium-234, uranium-238, and high levels of aluminium and arsenic. This ecological disaster was fast becoming Pahang’s Exxon Valdez.

Needless to say, Adnan wasn’t happy with all the publicity and bad press. In a marathon 13-hour session, he sought to explain the reasons why his administration had failed to act decisively against the illegal mining operators.

For a man who was used to getting things done – and getting things done his way – Adnan’s explanations seemed feeble.

Short, stocky, and built like a pugilist, the craggy-faced, Bronson-esque Adnan had earned a reputation as a mercurial fighter, a firebrand. He typified the Malay warlord, full of fire and venom, spit, and vinegar.

He wasn’t afraid to roll up his sleeves and get down and dirty if the situation warranted it. There’s an infamous video clip of him on YouTube flipping the bird at some hapless supporters of a rival political group.

Adnan was born on April 18, 1950, in Bentong. He taught at Sekolah Menengah Agama Pelangai, Bentong, in 1969 – the same year he joined Umno – before furthering his studies in 1972.

Upon graduating, he returned to teaching, while serving Umno in various capacities, including as Bentong Umno Youth chief.

In 1985, Adnan decided to enter politics full-time. The next year, he contested for the Pelangai state assembly seat in the 1986 General Election and defeated his DAP opponent by a comfortable margin. In 1987, he was named Umno Bentong division chief.

Adnan took over as menteri besar from Tan Sri Mohd Khalil Yaakob on May 25, 1999. On March 27, 2004, he was appointed for a second term and served until May 15, 2018.

My 13 hours with the former Pahang supremo is not enough to give an accurate and comprehensive understanding of a deep, complex man.

But I can attest to the fact that he is the only menteri besar in recent times who can sit down, cross-legged, then bend his left leg so that his sole touches his left cheek. Surreal, yes. But a sight to behold.

Malaysian politics is peppered with ‘colourful’ characters who provide comic relief, immense frustration, and in some instances, jaw-dropping incredulity, in equal measure.

Adnan’s announcement yesterday that he was withdrawing from active politics will leave a vacuum that will be tough to fill.

Love him or loathe him, he will be missed.