Scam

Noticeable difference in the number of Chin Grannies up and down ceaselessly with the tissues in the two month absence. Likely this is what has made the Convert Najib more pushy recently. Some little exasperation with Najib difficult to restrain. Poor devil.
         Zainuddin was telling last night after an encounter while he was escorted up to his bus. After accepting a tissue pack from Najib in front of Darul Arqam a difficulty arose as the latter's offer had been of the wet, scented kind of product — more expensive than the usual dry paper. The seller Najib attempted to explain this one was superior, good for refreshment in the hot afternoon, motioning awkwardly in the dark to sign wiping face and brow with his heavy bag weighing in the other hand. Nine PM, traffic noisy along the road made conversation difficult. Najib was attempting to explain further. Zainuddin straining, leaning forward, failing to comprehend. In sifting his coins for payment Zainuddin had sought a fifty cent piece. The usual offering was three packs for one dollar. Like most of us, Zainuddin would take only a single pack, for which fifty cents ought to have been a fair deal for the vendor. Yet here was Najib bending toward the dim street-light and turning over the coin in his hand. Short, he discovered. The single wet went for one dollar apiece. Zainuddin was struggling to follow. Poor ol' Najib dudded by a co-religionist.
         Ya, poor ol' Najib, when we had passed. Word was he was given a daily tally by an ex-wife with whom he continued to live, and the new partner into the bargain. Some compensation money had been diddled on top of that. Twice Najib had converted to Islam; the story a little muddled. The conversion had caused turmoil in his Chinese family. Najib was on medication, disappearing every couple of months when he went in for a rest. 
         So many pieces Najib needed to sell in order to reach his assigned target and satisfy those at home. A year or two ago there may have been a whisper of some beating. Every night Najib needed to present his earnings back at the flat. Eight or nine o'clock Najib could become particularly anxious. Zainuddin was reminded of the sharp practice, the net within Najib seemed to find himself entangled. Poor Najib facing that dragon.
        This ghostly demon was usually roundly reviled by all and sundry at Geylang Serai. Najib always got good pity at the Geylang Serai tables. A Chinese convert: some little added consideration perhaps. Poor ol' Najib a slave to a rapacious witch who had installed the new lover and only endured Najib while he brought in the cash day after day. Typical Chinese. They would sell their grandmother for a handful of coin. Stolen traditional Malay lands. Turned the island into a concrete jungle, destroyed the kampungs and relegated the population to the bird-cages. The indigenous population, the original people second class citizens.
          The dependable old Social Worker and Drug Counselor Zainuddin however hesitated to blow-off the usual condemnation and outrage. Held back. Unexpectedly, though perfectly in character, extended his understanding to the Chinese harridan at home too. The woman was caught up in her own predicament, attempting to survive. She had a story too, all her own. Hardship all round, widely shared. Pity and understanding for all from the dear goofy Sufi grandmaster Zainuddin.
         Off the man went to fetch his Olive from the Jamiyah orphanage office on Guillermard for their trip back to Woodlands.
         Rich down at Aljunied suggested the Chinese Mainland Grannies were run by local operators, groups brought out for so many hundred on thirty day visas, which enabled them to earn so many hundred more on the streets here trooping morning until night. A tidy sum in RMB to take back home. Down at Geylang Serai they knew the pickings were richer among the Muslims.