IN THE QUIET, sun-drenched paddy fields of Seberang Perai, 76-year-old Zainal Abidin stands still with his hands stained brown with soil. For decades, those hands also held the hand of his first wife—until death parted them in 2023.
Not far away stands Rohani Ismail, 65, a woman with steady hands and unwavering grit, who had dedicated her life to raising her children single-handedly after the passing of her husband 18 years ago.
THE STRUCTURE OF LONELINESS
For Zainal, the two years following his wife’s passing were a lesson in what he calls “living alone while being surrounded”. His three children and 10 grandchildren visited daily, filling the house with chaos and laughter. But when the cars pulled out of the driveway and the sun dipped below the horizon, the void returned.
“The heart seeks its twin,” he says softly. “Children give a different kind of love. But a spouse… a spouse shares your silence. The tea you drink together at 5am. They are a witness to your remaining days.”
