There’s something deeply stirring about the dawn at the end of Chew Jetty’s bridge — a place that holds dreams, memories, and the quiet soul of a fishing village. Captured through the lens of my childhood friend, Kok Sim, this scene is more than a photograph — it is a window to the past, a mirror of shared moments. The image speaks volumes of our growing-up years — the quiet bond of friendship, the scent of the sea, and the rhythms of a fisherfolk life.

From this edge, we used to gaze across the waters to Butterworth, watching ferries glide back and forth. The echoing horn of the ferry was our village’s morning bell and evening lullaby — marking the rhythm of life from sunrise to sunset. Around us, the jetty was alive with the presence of hardworking fishermen, boats from distant lands — Korea, Myanmar, and beyond — finding temporary shelter here. Kok Sim's father was one of them, sailing his sampan out at dawn, returning with hope folded into his nets.

Though life was tough, it was full — filled with perseverance, love, and quiet sacrifice. This dawn is more than light on water. It is a tribute to that enduring spirit, to the warmth of shared memories, and to a community that shaped who we are.