I worked with Jimmy Lim from July 1991 to September 1996. Those five years shaped me more than any classroom did. Jimmy lectured often, and with conviction, but he taught just as much through the way he drew, argued and stood his ground. Most people found him difficult to work with. He was uncompromising, demanding and impatient with half-measures. Yet those who stayed came to see that his difficulty was simply the other face of his integrity. Many of the convictions I hold as an architect today were formed in his company.
In 1992, while he was President of PAM, Jimmy sent me as his special representative to the Ministry of Housing's inquiry into the collapse of a five-storey apartment block. Everyone was busy placing the blame on the engineer. Jimmy refused to accept so convenient an answer. He exposed the systemic problem in the profession, where developers undermined the role of the engineer and paid him below the fee scale, reducing professional judgement to a commodity bought at the lowest price. He was an astute defender of the role of the professional, not to protect a guild, but because he believed that safety, integrity and good building depend on professionals being allowed to do their work properly.
He was equally passionate about education. I once accompanied him to the final assessment for students at UTM, where the programme was using his own work as precedent studies. Jimmy gave the highest mark to the student whose design was totally different from his own. I still remember him turning to me and saying, "Now, this fella is a thinking person." He valued original thought over blind following, and wanted young architects to find their own voice rather than echo his.
Recognition came late. Perhaps because so many found him difficult, Jimmy was 75 when he was conferred the PAM Gold Medal in 2019, and I had the honour of serving as Convenor. It was probably the proudest moment of my professional life, to see him finally take his rightful place in the profession he had served, challenged and enriched for so many decades.
I visited Jimmy a day before he passed away. Even then, his concern was not for himself. He wanted to know how things were with me, whether I was still going well. We had always shared the view that good architects don't retire, and in that quiet conversation he was still the mentor checking on his former apprentice. As I left, he bade me farewell in Hokkien: "Lok, oo sim." It was his way of thanking me for taking the trouble to come. Those were the last words he said to me, and I tear up each time I think back on them. Jimmy, it is I who must say oo sim to you: for your courage in speaking the truth, your generosity to the young, your belief in thinking architecture, and your faith in me. You did not retire, and neither will your legacy.
Rest well, my mentor and friend.
Ar. Wooi Lok Kuang
