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NOSTALGIA UK

The Quiet Centre (late 1994, early 1995)

Back then, the nearest mosque was in Woking, a short train ride from Guildford. It would cost money, and without a car, getting there was a bit of a hassle—especially in between lectures. In fact, I only found out about that mosque much later, probably in my second year.

On one edge of campus, right next to the Guildford Cathedral, stood the university’s Quiet Centre—a small, cylindrical, single-story building designed as a multi-faith space. Through the Islamic Students Society, the muslim students were granted permission to use it for Friday prayers, as well as other religious activities like iftar and terawih during Ramadhan.

It was here that I truly began to observe and understand the different mazhabs and the subtle variations in practice. If there was ever a model for a united Muslim organisation, this was it. Regardless of nationality or background, everyone came together under the banner of Islamic Students Society—Pakistanis, Mauritians, Malaysians, Indonesians, Egyptians, Bruneians, Iranians, Lebanese, Singaporeans, Jordanians, Africans, Bangladeshis—you name it. Diversity was embraced.

At the time, our imam at the Quiet Centre was a Lebanese PhD student, whose name I might recall later (though his face and presence remain crystal clear in my mind). He was a man of remarkable character—his demeanour, his kindness, and the way he spoke to others all left a lasting impression. His khutbahs were unique—he delivered them with his eyes closed, hands placed on his midriff (in the position of prayer), speaking straight from the heart.

If we remember, the years 1994 and 1995 were marked by the Oslo Accords, leading to the formation of the Palestinian Authority (PA) under the leadership of the late Yasser Arafat. If there was anyone was most affected and opinionated about it, it would be those closest to the situation—and the Imam, being Lebanese, was one of them. Many of his sermons centred around the Palestine-Israel conflict, particularly the developments surrounding the Oslo Accords.

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#QuietCentre #FridayPrayers #PetronasScholars #NostalgiaUK #Surrey #Guildford

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NOSTALGIA UK

Mr. Brent Work and the Art of Systems Thinking (1994)

How many of your university lecturers do you still remember? I remember a few. One of them was Mr. Brent Work, one of the three American lecturers in my course. He taught a core subject called Systems Analysis & Design—a subject that, at first glance, seemed to be all about bubbles and connecting lines.

Mr. Work was the first American I had ever met and interacted with (well… mostly listened to, if I’m being honest). It was fascinating to observe his teaching style compared to his British colleagues. In my eyes back then, he bore a resemblance to Richard Gere. Everything about him felt more casual, from the way he dressed to the way he spoke. He always showed up in loose trousers and a plain long-sleeved shirt, with the sleeves permanently rolled up above his elbows. Occasionally, he even wore loafers instead of proper shoes.

His manner of teaching was just as relaxed. He moved around the front of the classroom in an effortless rhythm—not overly animated, just enough to show his passion. He didn’t quite lecture at us rather more trying to invite us into a conversation. The way he presented, the way he explained—it was smooth, like a well-rehearsed performance, yet completely natural.

I remember we were required to get a red hardcover book titled simply Systems Analysis and Design. It wasn’t a thick book—maybe 200 pages at most—but inside, it was filled with bubbles, lines, and descriptions of how best to put them together. I still have that book, tucked away somewhere in my parents' house back in South Kedah. It wasn’t just a textbook; it became a practical guide I continued to reference even after I graduated and started working in the late ’90s and early 2000s.

At some point, the subject became so much more than just bubbles and lines. The discussions expanded beyond diagrams and methodologies into economics, philosophy, industrial design, history, culture, politics and all the forces that shape how organisations function. That was when I realised Systems Analysis & Design wasn’t just about systems in the technical sense; it was about organisational processes, about how different parts of it interacts and how to optimise these “systems” for better efficiency.

It was Mr. Work who introduced us to Peter Drucker, a name that has stuck with me ever since.

A former coursemate and a friend, Marwan, recently reminded me of something Mr. Work once said:

"In the future, nations will be run by profit-making entities."

Looking at today’s world, it’s hard to deny how true that prediction was. The biggest example? Elon Musk and Trump’s administration.

Mr. Work wasn’t just teaching us Systems Analysis & Design—he was teaching us how to see the world through systems thinking. And for that, I’ll always remember him.

[nostalgiauk]

NOSTALGIA UK

Fuzzy, darkish, messy (1994)

One downside of living on campus? The absolute chaos of weekend nights.

Come weekend nights, the whole place went wild. Parties popped up here and there. Students were doing all sorts of crazy things—anything goes. There were rules, at the same time no rules. I could just picture some stumbling back to their rooms, puking along the way—if they even made it back at all. It was a total mess. You’d hear screaming, laughter, shouting, moaning, girls singing, blasting music, door banging, you name it. Luckily I didn’t live too close to the Students' Union—that would've driven me insane . The first-years were the worst, those who just just came off age. Girls wore the skimpiest dresses they could find, summer or not, flocking to the Bojanglez club down town if not the union's club. Boys wore jeans so loose they were barely hanging on.

On some residence halls' floors—including mine at Battersea Court—the kitchen became the party hub. The lights would go off, some random disco light would be set up. It was all about drinking, dancing, getting wasted till early morning. I joined a couple of times. But honestly, it wasn’t my thing, plus I was a very socially awkward kid. I could stand the music and all, but the alcohol and cigarettes? Nope. The sheer stench of beer was always disgusting to me. And dealing with drunk people? Not fun at all. After a while, I started avoiding the whole thing altogether.

Luckily, I had my priorities straight. The first year was tough, and it was tough for three reasons:

- I didn’t do A-Levels, so some of the math topics were a bit out of my league.

- My English had improved quite a bit, but minor subjects such as sociology, psychology and economics demanded another level of proficiency altogether

- I had never touched a computer or done programming in my life. Yet here I was, studying IT. Go figure.

[nostalgiauk]

NOSTALGIA UK

The small town of Guildford (1994)

Coming from Glasgow, Guildford felt like a stark contrast—tiny in comparison. Tiny, yet undeniably charming.

Located south of London on the way to Portsmouth, Guildford sat along A3 road or a direct train line from Waterloo. The town itself rested on a gentle incline, as much of the surrounding region was hilly. At its heart, Guildford was centred around just two main streets, one of which—the high street—was entirely pedestrianised. I remember the town being remarkably tidy, peaceful, and never too crowded, with a postcard-perfect charm.

The cobbled high street sloped gently uphill, flanked by two rows of historic shopfronts. As you ascended, you came across an ornate old clock, suspended by a side arm attached to one of the buildings. Turning back, you would be rewarded with a breathtaking view of greater Guildford and the rolling hills beyond. At the foot of the High Street, the River Wey flowed beside it, adding to the town's charm.

Like many English towns, Guildford had its main shopping mall—the Friary Centre, if I remember the name correctly. Some of the bigger stores, however, were scattered around the High Street or tucked into quieter corners. Debenhams, a major name back then (now gone, I believe), stood in its own building beside the River Wey. I used to buy discounted perfumes there as gifts to take home for summer. Marks & Spencer held a spot on the High Street, as did my go-to clothing store, Topman, though it was somewhat hidden inside a small arcade. There was also a small Sainsbury’s, and of course, WH Smith, the ever-present British bookstore. At the entrance to a walkway connecting the town’s two main streets sat a watch and jewellery shop, a landmark of sorts in my memory.

Tucked behind the right row of shophouses as you ascended the High Street was the Guildford Castle. A medieval relic dating back to the 11th century, it sat in a serene garden that burst with colour in spring and summer, offering a peaceful retreat from the town’s centre.

Walking from the bottom of the High Street to its highest point, where the clock stood took no more than 10 to 15 minutes. Small—undeniably small—for a university town, yet that’s precisely what made it special. Its size, its beauty, and its quiet charm have stayed with me to this day.

[nostalgiauk]

NOSTALGIA UK

MSA - The introduction (1994)

A few days after we arrived, the new batch of Malaysians, including myself, were invited by the Malaysian Students Society (MSA) to a small welcome apéro in one of the lecture theatres. Azam was the president at the time, and I remember him standing at the front, giving us a warm welcome. If I had to guess, he was probably joined by Mawardi, Hadi, Rozaini, Kak Kartina, and another master’s student who was dating one of my lecturers (I think her name was Anne), along with maybe a couple of others.

Azam was pretty upbeat about the whole MSA setup, but at the same time, I got the sense he was looking forward to handing over the reins. He, Mawardi (who I also mentioned in an earlier post), and Hadi were all doing Chemical Engineering. Hadi seemed to have a more rugged, independent lifestyle—he lived off-campus, moved around quite a bit, and owned this whitish racing bike (which I later ended up buying). Rozaini was the odd one out among the boys, being the only one not in Chemical Engineering—he was doing Mechanical instead. Kartina, meanwhile, was doing a Master’s in Hotel and Tourism Management, married to a French husband, and living in their own house not far from campus. I don't remember what Anne did.

The new academic term brought new faces, though I’m not entirely sure if they were all there that evening:

Faeez and Leni, the two girls who were in my Computing & IT course (I talked about them in an earlier post).

Badrul, from the Institute of Medical Research (IMR) in KL, was doing his PhD in Toxicology. He was one of those people who always seemed ridiculously relaxed, no matter the situation. I remember he smoked quite a bit, and in the early days, he was alone in Guildford before his family joined him.

Teresa was another PhD student doing research in some area of Telecommunications or Satellite, if I'm not mistaken.

Then there was Mew—the standout among us—doing a Master’s in Dance Studies, which felt pretty unique. She had this bubbly, funny personality, and her dance performance at International Night that year was absolutely mesmerizing—one of those moments that just stuck with me. After so many years, I finally managed to track her down in January 2024.

Then there was Hariyati, a UIA lecturer doing her PhD in Psychology. She spoke (American) English with precise articulation, an excellent choice of words. Another UIA lecturer was Ainol, soft-spoken, doing her PhD in Linguistics (wow, I still remember that!). She later married Azman, who flew in all the way from the USA for the nikah.

We also had a couple—Nurina and Shukor—both doing their PhDs. I don’t remember their fields of study, though if I’m not wrong, Shukor wasn’t actually based in Surrey but was doing his research at Reading.

Then there was Mei Ling and her brother, both (I think) in Electrical or Electronic Engineering. We didn’t interact much at first, but by the second year, when they lived next door, we got to know each other a bit better.

The Malaysian community at Surrey was small—maybe that’s what made it special. Even though we knew each other, we were still a bit scattered, each living our own lives… or in my case, no life. 😆

#newbatch #guildford #surrey #msa #malaysianstudentssociety #petronasscholars

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NOSTALGIA UK

The Stag Hill Campus in the 90s

The thing about Surrey, a campus university, as opposed to a city university, is that everything was contained within a single defined area. And when I say everything, I mean everything—academic departments, computer labs, the library, student accommodations, the Students’ Union, medical centre, restaurants, bookshops, a sundry shop, the sports hall & gym, a bank, and even a laundrette. That first week was all about getting to know the campus.

The university was built on the slopes of Stag Hill, with the beautiful Guildford Cathedral towering above it. There were two main entrances/exits:

The West "Gate" – Primarily for vehicles, connecting to the A3, the main road linking London and Portsmouth.

The East "Gate" – The main student entry point and the bus route into Guildford town.

If you walked from West to East, here’s what you’d see, straight from my memory:

The campus gym and sports hall sat just inside the West Gate, where we, the Malaysian students, played badminton once a week. Across from it was the Toxicology Department, the only department building I remember being gated. A little further up was the Dance & Art Studies Department—at the time, I found it interesting that a university offered such courses. Behind it was Cathedral Court, one of the residence halls, and further up the slope was the Quiet Centre, where Friday prayers, iftar, and Tarawih prayers were held. Across the street from Dance & Art Studies Department, a small path led to Twyford Court, one of the pricier residence halls, next to a large football field.

At this point, the road split into two:

The left path led through two rows of tall buildings connected by glass bridges. Chemical Engineering was one of the first departmentd on the left I remember. Further up was Maths & Computing, my department, followed by the renowned Satellite & Telecommunication Department—possibly one of or the reason for then-Prime Minister Dr. Mahathir’s visit in 1995. Walking further would take you to Stag Hill lake.

The right path led to the university library, with a large 24-hour shared computer room attached to it. A narrow walkway next to it took you to SPAR, our go-to convenience store and concrete stairs to the university bookstore. Opposite the library entrance was the campus laundrette. Further up, the main university canteen sat on the left, directly across from Battersea Court, my residence hall. Nearby was Surrey Court, another residence hall, followed by the main lecture theatre building, where large classes were held.

Walking further, you’d pass a vegetarian restaurant—which, looking back, was quite progressive for the time.

Then the road sloped downward, leading to the Students’ Union, home to the elected student reps and the venue for weekend parties and discos. Attached to it was the student pub, with an outdoor seating area where, on warm sunny days, some of us coursemates would lounge between lectures. Opposite this area, across the street, was Stag Hill Court, another residence hall.

Continuing downhill, you’d pass the most expensive en-suite accommodations and the campus medical centre. This was the eastern edge of the campus, where the East Gate stood. Right next to it was Yorkie’s Bridge, a pedestrian bridge that led into town.

By the end of my first week, I had practically memorised every corner of the campus.

[nostalgiauk]

NOSTALGIA UK

Summer ... the biggest eye opener (1994)

Scotland introduced me to three of the four seasons for the first time.

We arrived in Glasgow during the bone-chilling cold of early January. As I looked out from the coach window on the ride from Glasgow Airport to Langside College, everything seemed cloaked in grey, as if the sun had never dared to shine. Some days were so cold that speaking became a challenge; words containing "s" were almost impossible to pronounce as my lips would turn numb and uncooperative. I’ve previously shared how dry my skin became, particularly around the crotch and inner thigh areas, resulting in painful and itchy rashes that only made the experience harsher.

Spring didn’t stand out much to me at first; it felt barely warmer than winter, making it difficult to distinguish the two seasons. However, the sight of plants and flowers returning to life added a touch of color and vibrancy, as if nature itself was making an effort to brighten up the grey landscape.

I had high hopes for summer, eagerly anticipating relief from the constant rashes and dry skin. I soon discovered, however, that bright, sunny days in the UK were more the exception than the rule. Still, we were lucky enough to experience a handful of gloriously warm days. I remember one such day clearly: Fudin and I decided to go for a jog. The temperature was perfect, the sun lingered high in the sky for hours, and it felt as if the entire city of Glasgow had poured into the parks, basking in the rare sunshine. People looked joyous and carefree, soaking up every moment. I was especially taken aback by the sudden shift in wardrobes, particularly among the women; the clothes were doing more showing of everything than covering anything, a stark contrast to the usual attire of the earlier months.

Between the three seasons, summer was the biggest eye opener.

[nostalgiauk]

NOSTALGIA UK

Hall of passing (1994)

Before I continue on my journey to Surrey, I want to take a quick detour to document a couple of small but cherished memories I almost overlooked.

One such memory is of the hall in Shaikh's shared flat. It wasn't that big but it was a cozy, inviting space where I often found myself hanging out whenever the boys and I dropped by. The hall was modestly furnished, with a couple of well-worn sofas and a tea table that always seemed to carry the latest edition of the UMNO Club Newsletter (though it was more like a magazine) —a periodical publication that Shaikh edited with great dedication.

The newsletter was an intriguing read, filled with articles and news that resonated with Malaysian students in Glasgow. Back then, the UMNO Club was a significant presence among Malaysian students in the UK, especially within the Malay group. Its presence was centered in major cities with large student populations, acting as hubs for student welfare and activities. At the time, I didn’t see it as a political movement; to me, it was simply a club focused on fostering a sense of community and addressing students' needs. Admittedly, my understanding of politics was quite limited then.

I enjoyed flipping through the publication, marveling at Shaikh’s talent for writing and his unwavering commitment to his role. If memory serves me right, I even contributed some content—likely something creative or artsy. It felt good to be part of it.

Now, back to the hall itself. While the kitchen might have been the heart of the flat, the hall stands out in my memory as a lively space. I often watched the flatmates (all attended the University of Glasgow) in particular Maz, the late Meor, and Dani bustling in and out, busy with their studies or heading off to campus. They rarely seemed to linger, always on the move, embodying the energy of university life. I remember thinking how cool it was to be a university student, imagining what lay ahead for me as I prepared to follow a similar path.