Sometimes, a little knowledge is really dangerous.

When I was about the age of ten, my parents lived in a village in Caunter Hall. Today, the place is known as Jalan P. Ramlee after the famous singer, actor and director of Malay films. Well, although we lived in the same area, he must have been older than me for I did not have the opportunity to do hop, hop, hop, step and jump on those squares drawn in the shape of a cross on the group or play marbles with him. Otherwise, I could have appeared in his autobiography and became quite well known too. Sometimes, luck comes only with the right timing.

Anyway, P. Ramlee's attap house and my village were just a short distance away and I must admit that village life is quite interesting and enjoyable for little children; those like me, anyway. It was in this village that I experienced the pain and fear of being chased by bees.

It all started when one of my neighbours found some bees starting a hive in his kitchen cupboard. "Ahh! Here's the chance to have pure organic honey right at my doorstep," the elderly man thought. So, day after day, to get those bees to produce honey at a faster rate perhaps, he fed them white sugar.

Initially, when the hive was still small and the number of bees was not too many, the man had no problem from them. Eager for the honey, he supplied the bees with sugar without fair, every morning and evening. Gradually, the hive increased in size until the cupboard door could not be closed tightly. The population of those bees became larger and each time, the wife and the children had to go to the kitchen, they had to be cautious so as to not touch or obstruct the path of the flying bees. Inevitably, first the wife, then the children, got stung by those bees. The man himself was stung one day. The stinging from the bees became a daily affair. The wife and the children could not stand the attacks any longer and demanded that the man removed the hive.

Now, how do you remove a hive from a kitchen cupboard? Perhaps, put a big plastic bag over it and have it dislodged while it is inside the plastic. Unfortunately, that is just my idea as I sit writing about this as plastic bags were either not available then or the villagers and I were still ignorant of the use of plastic bags.

The man hit on the idea of killing them with hot boiling water. So he boiled a big kettle of water. It was just after an early dinner. In those days, the Chinese used to have dinner at about five o'clock. Perhaps they had it so early so that they could enjoy some supper just before bedtime. When the water was boiling, he took the kettle to the hive and poured hot water into the cupboard at a spot just above the hive. Some of the bees were killed and warm honey flowed down onto the ground. But his thoughts were far from the honey as he waved his hands above below and everywhere as he tried in vain to ward off the angry bees which attacked him. Unable to take the pain any longer he fled together with his wife and children who had also been attacked.

The bees flew amok and attacked any human in their sight. Soon, almost every villager was fleeing out of the village towards some tall grasses. I was among them and it was then that I discovered the advantage of being smaller than most of the people. I could hide deeper and further inside the grass. There, the bees could not reach me and I was safe. As for the others, including my parents, they had round angry red patches every where on their exposed skin.

After a while some kind soul got candles and joss-sticks for everyone. The smoke did help to keep the bees at bay and eventually darkness came to our rescue. For once, we were so appreciative of the darkness. We even forgot about the usual nasty mosquitoes. The cool evening air brought even greater relief as it cooled the hot stinging pain that almost every villager was suffering from. It was really a night to remember for those people and myself.

I know not whether the man who started the problem was ever scolded for the incident. However, I do realise we ought to gather sufficient knowledge to understand things thoroughly; know the cons just as well as the pros. Just as my elder son says,"Dad, when you study nutrition, don't just know the benefit of the food, know and understand too the possible undesirable side-effects it can bring." And there is a lot of truth in his words. And from the above true incident, I know a little knowledge without total understanding is sometimes really dangerous.