Same Origin, Different Fate

The Man Who Came With Tan Sri Loh Boon Siew – But Died in Poverty.

In the early 1900s, two young men arrived in Penang from Hui’an County, Fujian, Southern China, in the same batch, both escaping poverty, both seeking a better life.

One became Tan Sri Loh Boon Siew, “Mr. Honda” – one of Penang’s wealthiest men. The other was my cousin’s father, a man with the surname T. (for privacy’s sake, I won’t reveal the surname)

He died in poverty!

Like Loh Boon Siew, Uncle T left Hui’an County, Fujian when he was only 17 years old, alone, chasing hope in a foreign land. While Loh Boon Siew built an empire, Uncle T became a trishaw rider, pedaling from morning till night, day after day, year after year.

Every evening, he’d come home exhausted. His wife, my maternal grandma’s younger sister – would have rice or broth ready with some salted fish, potatoes, or peanuts with soya sauce.

I remember watching him wallop three plates of rice with such appetite, joking with us kids, smiling through the exhaustion. A kind, jovial man, sometimes sharing food with us.

Every morning, he’d give his children 20 cents each, money earned from endless hours pedaling that trishaw under the hot sun. He raised nine children on a trishaw rider’s income.

Despite everything, Uncle T never went back to China once to see his family in Hui’an County. Why? Because he couldn’t afford it. And none of his nine children cared enough to pay for his trip!

As he grew old and sick, his children were indifferent. The daughter who took care of him was cruel and unfilial. I heard she made him crawl to get his food.

This man, who worked himself to the bone for nine children, died miserably, alone, abandoned by the very people he sacrificed everything for.

Not Every Story Ends in Success!

We love reading success stories. Rags to riches. Hard work pays off. Dreams come true. But the reality… not everyone who works hard becomes Tan Sri Loh Boon Siew.

Some work just as hard, sacrifice just as much, and die with nothing.

Uncle T came to Penang from the same county, in the same batch as a man who became a legend. But while Loh Boon Siew’s name is remembered, T’s is forgotten, except by those of us who saw his kindness, his laughter, and his endless labour.

Not all children turn out educated, successful, or grateful.

Not all hard work leads to wealth.

Not all kind hearts are rewarded.

Our Chinese diaspora stories are filled with heartbreak and stupendous sacrifices we can’t even comprehend.

For every success story, there are hundreds of thousands like Uncle T, men and women who left everything, worked until their bodies broke, raised families in poverty, and died forgotten.

In Memory of Uncle T…

I remember him fondly. The trishaw rider from Hui’an County who smiled through exhaustion. Who joked with us kids. Who ate three plates of rice after a day of backbreaking work. Who gave his children 20 cents every morning even when he had nothing. He deserved better. So much better.

But life isn’t fair. Hard work doesn’t always pay off. And sometimes, the people you sacrifice everything for are the ones who let you die alone.

Rest in peace, Uncle T. Your kindness is not forgotten.

This is the untold side of the immigrant story, the one nobody celebrates, but we must never forget.

A Parable Drawn

This story relates well to me because even in the world of Feng Shui, this rules still applies. Why some masters become celebrities while some takes the route of a healer, the route of the unsung hero?

The Two Gardens

In a bustling port city, there lived two gardeners who had crossed the same stormy sea from a distant, rocky homeland.

The first, Ren, possessed a radiant, fortunate seed. Wherever he planted, markets sprouted around him. He cultivated vast, famous orchards of citrus and spice. His name was printed in newspapers, and his gates were wrought of iron and gold. People traveled far to walk his paths, hoping his good fortune was contagious. They admired his visible harvest, believing it was the truest measure of a gardener’s skill.

The second gardener, Wei, received a humble, plain seed. He tended a small plot on a forgotten hillside. While Ren built empires, Wei pedaled a heavy cart through the streets each dawn to water the window boxes and scrubland patches of others. His back ached, his hands grew coarse, yet he nurtured every sprout entrusted to him—the sickly sapling of a failing shopkeeper, the barren soil of a despairing family. His labor was invisible, his name known only to those he helped.

In time, a strange blight crept through the city. The famed orchards of Gardener Ren began to wither at their heart, their fruits growing tasteless and hollow. The people who had walked his paths found no solace there。

The Lesson

There is an unseen force that stands above all things — Destiny. It rises beyond human effort, beyond skill, and even beyond Feng Shui itself. For when something is not written within one’s Destiny, no amount of striving can force it into existence. At best, one may only wait patiently for a favourable turn of luck, a season when success briefly reveals its taste.

Yet this is not a message of helplessness. On the contrary, understanding our Destiny and the rhythm of our Luck cycles allows us to walk life with awareness. Instead of struggling against the current, we learn to recognise the gentler paths — the safer crossings and the easier routes that guide us forward.

And in the end, only knowledge that is true will withstand the passage of time. Real wisdom becomes our compass, giving us the confidence to sail through uncertain waters, carrying us steadily toward the shores of a better land.

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