The Keuneman Odyssey
Threads of Friendship, Courage, and Destiny Across Four Generations
In the hustle of my banking days in Dubai, a group of seasoned bankers from Colombo burst into the scene, led by the charismatic Stewart Keuneman. He was this lively, slim, fair-skinned guy, always flaunting his bold style, puffing on Rothmans and making a statement wherever he went. The way he embraced life with a bold swagger was nothing short of fascinating.
How was I to know this flamboyant guy would become a part of my life in a few decades? Read on.
Before we delve deeper into our linguistic adventure, let’s unravel the intriguing tale of Keuneman’s pronunciation. In this modern corner of the world, it resonates as KEUNE-MAN, but venture into the vibrant tapestry of Sri Lanka, baked with some European invasions in the seventeenth century, and you’ll discover the delightful twist of KENAMAN. Keuneman, a linguistic fusion of Dutch roots entwined with a touch of Lankan heritage, dances gracefully between two distinct pronunciations.
Despite the gap in our positions, these bankers treated me like one of their own. Invitations flowed in, pulling me into their weekend escapades. It was a comforting gesture, a lifeline for a young bank clerk like me trying to find his place in the adult world of Dubai.
Stewart and Sweeny, the dynamic duo of the crew, Stewart Keuneman and Sweenitha Senanayake, stood out as my closest pals. Their legendary weekend parties were filled with laughter, flowing drinks, and a sense of community that went beyond the confines of banking. I was part of something bigger, something that cared.
On weekends, I’d stroll over to Keuneman’s house in Al Qusais. Their home became a hub of activity with the energetic Nadine and Wendell, the toddler. I’d sit on the floor, becoming a part of the kids' world, playing and connecting with them.
When I travelled to see my folks on holiday in Sri Lanka, Sweeny had a gift ready for her dad. Grandpa Senanayake showed up at my place, all sharp in his clean white clothes. Tall, slim and Zen-like attitude, he seemed surprised I was young enough to be on my own in Dubai and handle a job in a bank.
Sitting on my parents’ veranda, he liked to share stories about his grandkids, telling me how much he missed them. His eyes would light up with love as he described the happiness they brought to his life. Even though they were far away, the love for his grandkids went beyond any distance, making a cosy connection between us in those special family moments.
In Dubai, Fakhru, a senior manager at the bank, generously offered me a daily ride in his car. Our journey was further enriched when, at the Dubai-Sharjah roundabout, Stewart and Sweeny joined us. Stewart, sporting fashionable bell bottoms, and Sweeny, adorned in her graceful saree, added their distinct flair to the ride. Our fellowship grew as we cruised through the bustling streets of Dubai in Fakhru’s gleaming white Toyota Cressida. It was more than just rides; it was a journey through friendship, shared laughter, and the city’s vibrant pulse.
Sweeny, a beacon of bravery, seized the distinction of being the first licensed driver among our group of Sri Lankan bankers and their partners. Back then, getting a driver’s license in Dubai was akin to a daring adventure, even more formidable than earning a degree. In a daring feat, Stewart and Sweeny took the plunge and invested in a shiny new Mazda 323, a radiant white marvel that sparked envy among all. It wasn’t just an accomplishment; it was practically a source of admiration.
These moments, whether playing with Keuneman’s kids or riding with the crew in Fakhru’s car, were not just a part of my Dubai experience; they were the threads weaving a vibrant tapestry of camaraderie, courage, and the joy of discovering life amid early adulthood.
I could not match the drinking pace of these prominent bankers, but I often found myself with a headache after their parties. The recuperation following a lively weekend was a minor inconvenience compared to the joy of being an integral part of a vibrant and hospitable community in the heart of Dubai.
You can’t keep a good man down, and that’s undoubtedly true for Stewart. The bank saw his talent, and he rose through the ranks, reaching the esteemed position of an expat officer with the perks that go with the role. Riding on this success, the Keunemans traded from Al Qusasis to the fancier Al Zabeel, embracing a more luxurious apartment lifestyle.
For a good year, Stewart became my manager. I vividly remember his work ethic — nothing left for tomorrow. He wouldn’t call it a day until his in-tray was clear. No tasks were pushed to the next day, leaving me with a valuable life lesson.
Stewart and Sweeny’s enduring devotion to their children made a lasting impression. Their home prioritised the kids above all else. Weekdays were reserved for homework, ensuring meals were on the table, and ensuring the kids were tucked into bed at the right time. These practices served as valuable lessons and role models, especially for a young guy like me who dreamt of being a father someday.
Their dedication to their children’s future took a remarkable turn. Stewart and Sweeny made the courageous decision to prioritise family over burgeoning careers and the allure of petrodollars. They chose to leave Dubai and start a new chapter in Australia. It was a bold move that spoke volumes about their values and the importance of providing the best possible future for their two kids, Nadine and Wendell. The Keunemans did something incredible by prioritising their kids over their own needs, even letting go of their temporary comforts and dispossessing themselves to start a new life in a new country — a fantastic life-giving inspiration.
In less than a decade, I did what the Keunemans did, following in their footsteps. I was in Sydney with my three little kids and one on its way, working to make their dreams come true.
I stayed connected with the Keunemans, and when Wendell, now a tech-savvy teenager, encountered a computer glitch, I didn’t hesitate. I hit the road to troubleshoot and resolve his tech woes. Little did I know that Wendell’s tech prowess went beyond being a savvy teen; he eventually emerged as a successful tech entrepreneur and venture capitalist, significantly impacting Australia’s start-up landscape.
Another decade later, a truly magical story blossomed between him and my daughter Tash, a tale so deep that only Tash can do that story justice. The melody of our destinies danced around us, and in those shared moments, the heart of our connected fates unfolded gracefully, like life’s most beautiful stories.
Almost half a century later, in 2023, the Keuneman story is on the verge of becoming a legendary saga, transcending four generations and spanning continents.
The pen of destiny now rests in the creative hands of my daughter, Tash and Wendell. Poised to narrate the next enchanting chapter in the vibrant tale of their dynasty, it is an epic story destined to be told for generations of our descendants. The legacy will live on.
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