Man of steel with a soft heart

Zaman Khan remembers the sting of trading Bukit Aman for the prisons department and how he discovered compassion.

EXCLUSIVE

KUALA LUMPUR: In the not too distant past, his name used to strike fear in the hearts of criminals. During his three decades in the police force, the Kelantan-born lad was responsible for putting an end to the reign of numerous notorious characters, including the infamous Botak Chin and Bentong Kali.

By the time he wore the badge of federal criminal investigation department director, Zaman Khan had earned a reputation as a man of steel. And he remained immovable until 1994 rolled around and brought him to his knees.

It was Jan 19, three days after Rahim Noor had been sworn in as inspector-general of police to replace the outgoing Hanif Omar.

Zaman, now 69, was on a working trip abroad when he received word that the then prime minister, Dr Mahathir Mohamad, wanted him back in Malaysia. Assuming it was another high-profile case, he boarded the first flight home.

Following procedure, he first sought out the new IGP to be briefed on what the prime minister required of him. But Rahim claimed to be in the dark.

So Zaman headed to Mahathir’s office where he waited outside for over an hour listening to him talking and laughing with then deputy prime minister Anwar Ibrahim.

When Anwar finally emerged, he apologised to Zaman for keeping him waiting and indicated that he should enter. Once the door closed behind him, Mahathir looked hard at him in silence.

“Then he told me that he wanted my cooperation,” he recalled.

“I asked him what the case was and he replied that it wasn’t a case but a question of Rahim not wanting me as his deputy so could I please take over as director-general of the prisons department.

“It was like a thunderbolt,” he said, and so deep was the cut that even now a shadow crossed his face at the memory of it.

“I said that I didn’t understand as I never worked with nor served under Rahim before. Mahathir retorted that he didn’t want a situation where his number one and two (in the police) disagreed.”

A shattered Zaman finally agreed to take a week to think it over but before he left the room he made sure Mahathir knew exactly how he felt about the request.

“It was a huge let down,” said.

“I devoted my life to serving the police to the extent that my family’s interest came second to the force. And now I was being ‘rewarded’ for it.”

‘I didn’t want to be a policeman’

Zaman’s younger self would have laughed had he known that he would one day be heartbroken over the end of a career that he once never wanted to begin.

He was a bright student and planned to continue his education after completing the high school certificate exam.

But when he returned to his hometown of Kelantan he discovered that his father had different plans for him.

“He wanted me to work so I could support the family,” he said. “I was very unhappy but I had no choice. I heard that the police were looking for cadet ASPs and sent in an application.”

“During the interview I was asked why I wanted to join the force and I said that I always wanted to be a policeman. Of course it was a lie!”

But Zaman made the cut and to his great surprise, revelled and excelled in his new environment. Before long he had pledged unwavering dedication to serving the people through his work.

“I was a 24-hour policeman because I loved my work,” he said.

“No task was too small for me. So you understand how painful Mahathir’s request was. And why I didn’t return to see him after two weeks.”

Instead Zaman contemplated the temptation of retiring all together. Yet, a tiny shred of uncertainty prompted him to seek the counsel of Hanif who advised him to accept the offer.

At the end of the second week, he was arranging for a golf game with the then deputy home minister, Megat Junid Megat Ayub, when the latter’s mobile phone rang. The conversation was brief with Megat glaring at Zaman and promising to bring him over right away.

Standing before Mahathir once again, he said that he would accept the transfer but reiterated the injustice of the decision.

He also asked that he nevertheless be installed as deputy IGP so he could resign and move to the prisons department. But Mahathir regretfully quoted a section of the Police Act 1967 that pevented him from granting that request.

A blessing in disguise

Zaman spent his first three months at the Prisons Department in a haze of aimlessness and unwantedness. It was a visit to the Kajang Prison that finally jolted him back to life.

“I suddenly saw that a prison shouldn’t just be a place of punishment but also a place where people are given a second chance at life,” he said. “I had particular empathy for the Henry Gurney boys because circumstances forced them to make the choices they did.”

“These were people I had once worked to put away but standing on the other side I felt compassion for them. And that’s when I wondered whether my new role was in fact a blessing in disguise.”

As Zaman’s confidence slowly returned, he began initiating changes with the hope of boosting rehabilitation among the prisoners.

First he drilled into the prison wardens that prisoners still possessed human rights and that he would not tolerate any assault on them.

Next, he extended the duration of visiting hours and subsequently convinced Mahathir to allow visits on weekends and public holidays.

“Many prisoners come from low-income earning families and their spouse is the sole breadwinner. Weekday visits would mean taking a day off and sacrificing a day’s salary.”

But the most impactful of Zaman’s initiatives was the “good behaviour room” where a prisoner who displayed positive behaviour was allowed personal visits with his family.

“No intercoms or plastic seperators, just the prisoner and his family,” he said. “Being able to kiss his wife and hold his children had an amazing impact on a prisoner’s rehabilitation progress.”

Zaman had since left the prisons department to voluntarily spearhead the Malaysian AIDS Council (MAC). Despite the fond memories of his last role, it was still the police force that had a grip on his heart.

“I miss being a policeman and if I was reborn, I would do it all over again. I would love the chance to wear my uniform again. The force made me who I am today, it trained me to be humane and to dedicate my life to serving others.”

Taken from Free Malaysia Today

Posted in: Zaman Khan