Archive for

August, 2005

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Like a freeze-dried rose

8 comments

Fear is a potent tool. Especially in politics, but not exclusively. That is why terrorists use incitement of fear as a trademark of their rampage. That is why Hitler employed demagougery to alienate communities.

Not knowing inculcates fear. We are afraid of the dark, but not so when everything is light.That is why knowledge is power. Control over knowledge is more power; manipulation of knowledge used to foster fear is potent power.

There is a good chance that if you are reading this, 31 August has come to an end and 1 September looms on the horizon. All day today, sans a public holiday in these here parts, I was toying with the question of what ‘merdeka’ means to me; because to different people it means different things.

To me, today, Merdeka means “the absence of fear.” Are we Merdeka? I leave it to everyone else to decide for themselves.

But in ten words or less, now that the public holiday is over, what does merdeka mean to you?

Bonda

7 comments

Seorang ibu tua duduk seorang diri di tepi jalan yang cabangnya tiga,
di wajahnya terbayang seribu duka.
Anak kecil dipangku di atas riba.

“Mak,” anak kecil itu bersuara
“Mak, apa nak jadi dengan kita?
Dulu, senang masa Abang Long ada.
Makan minum kita semua terjaga.
Adik tak mewah, tak miskin juga.

Sebelum Abang Long ke seberang sana
Dia kata,
Angah ada,
jadi tak apa.
Angah kan pandai, belajar tinggi
Bila dia pimpin keluarga kita, kita tak akan susah lagi.
Semalam kan, Mak, Adik tengok Angah kat tv
Bercakap mendabik dada, meninggi diri
Macam macam Adik dengar Angah janji
Tapi Adik masih di sini.
Macam mana ni Mak?
Angah dah beritahu kepada semua
Dialah yang akan bela nasib kita
Tapi kan, Mak, Adik tengok dia cakap kosong saja
Entah entah, dia dah lupa?”

Ibu tua tersenyum hampa
Terkenangkan amanah yang hilang entah ke mana
Terbayang wajah anaknya yang dewasa
Begitu bangga dengan asal-usulnya
Tapi tidak pernah muncul di desa
Maklumlah sekarang dah pandu kereta
Nanti kotor bagaimana pula?
Takkanlah Angahnya sudah lupa
Habis digadai harta si ibu tua
Demi membolehkan dia bergaya
Langsung tak ditinggalkan untuk adiknya

“Tak apa lah Adik, janganlah hiba.
Mak menaruh harapan pada Uda
Dia mungkin pendiam orangnya
Tak banyak cakap, tak banyak seloka
Walaupun Uda tak dabik dada
Mak tahu dialah sebenarnya pembela
Mungkin Uda tak sehebat abangnya
Tapi Uda tak silau dek harta
Sabarlah Adik, tunggulah Uda,”
ujar yakin si ibu tua.

Happy Independence Day, Malaysia. 48 – going on 49, not 490.

Learning to breathe

14 comments

For all that is lacking in the Malaysian government, ambition doesn’t quite make the shortlist. Having spent billions on the Twin Towers and a top notch Formula 1 driving circuit, we are now working towards making a mark on the next frontier: space. We don’t want just a man in space, we want a man on the moon.

The question now is, is this doable, and if so, how do we, as a country, gain from reinventing the wheel, other than boosting that vague entity many call national pride? Many have balked at our grandeur ambitions in the past. Many scoffed at our Twin Towers while labourers, local and foreign, sacrificed blood, sweat and tears to erect this monument of national pride. Now the same skeptics come and take pictures to show their friends and family back home, “I’ve been to the tallest Twin Towers in the world,” they proclaim with glee. I do not doubt the Malaysia Boleh spirit, because to me it is nothing more than the human spirit, and the human spirit is formidable. We’ve sailed around the world, we’ve swum across the English Channel twice; bring on space exploration!

Is there a need to, however? On the face of it, we seem to be reinventing the wheel. So we are going into space, and we want a man on the moon. Clap clap clap, but people have done that before, so what’s so special about that? Maybe it’s because we do not enjoy the status of being a developed nation; maybe that is why it becomes special. A “woohaa” in the face of others, flipping the bird at our dissenters. We may be a little engine in the world of bullet trains, but we are going to be the little engine that could. More importantly, I think, if we succeed in putting a man on the moon, it gives us a share of the space exploration pie; a club with not too many members. And we send a message about being a Muslim country [let's leave the debate of whether we are, or are not, a Muslim country at home for the moment] that is modern, open to hi-tech endeavours, and progressive; a quiet slap in the face for people who associate Islam with the lack of modernity, a boost and an example for other members of the OIC.

Still, I am unsettled. The fact that we are a developing – as opposed to a developed- nation, nags at the back of my mind. I read this article on Saturday, with the intention to laugh more at the Mawi-mania taking over Malaysia : even Nik Aziz is a fan. It was the story of a young woman who grew up in the FELDAs, not too different from our kid Mawi.


“Felda di tempat Mawi, sama dengan tempat saya… peneroka sawit yang tidak memberikan pendapatan lumayan. Memang tiap bulan abah dapat gaji. Tapi selepas ditolak hutang baja, upah potong pelepah, duit tanah, duit hutang kedai belanja barang dapur dan sebagainya, bakinya memang menyedihkan. Pernah abah terima gaji 50 sen selepas ditolak segala hutang piutang itu. Pernah juga terhutang pula lagi dengan Felda.

Bayangkan bagaimana untuk makan dan minum seterusnya? Pengalaman ke sekolah pakai kasut koyak ni jangan cerita. Sudah lali kami lalui. Minta emak belikan kasut baru. Tapi kata emak, selagi tapak kaki tak luka, pakailah kasut tu.”

Tiba musim raya. Kata abah, `Mari kita ke bandar beli kasut raya.’ Gembiranya kami adik beradik tak tidur semalaman itu menanti siang. Kami bercerita sepanjang malam warna kasut yang akan kami pilih bila di kedai nanti. Esok pagi-pagi naik motor tiga beradik bersama abah. Tahu apa yang kami dapat? Sepasang selipar Jepun tiap seorang.”

Full article here

My initial intention to laugh and assert my self-imposed superiority above Mawi-fans with fellow Mawi-skeptics turned to [middle-class?] guilt. The young woman quoted in the above piece is in her late 20′s. That means that she is my age. I grew up with three pair of school shoes a year, and one more for raya; and she had new selipar jepuns? This, happening in the mid 90′s when I was growing up? In my own country, in Malaysia? While I was envying the kids who could afford to wear LA Gear shoes to school, I failed to remember the ones who barely wore shoes.

I would love to say that her story is a one off. But it mirrors the stories of the young adults of my generation growing up in FELDA estates all over the country. So how would a Malaysian man on the moon – even if he was Mawi – change the livelihoods of these people? How would one small step of a Malaysian be a giant step for those struggling to make ends meet in rural Malaysia, regardless of race and religion? What does self actualisation mean for these people, when even physical security and food is something they are struggling with? And that is why, I feel, the money slated for the space programme, is better spent in bridging the gaps within Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs that is prevalently wide in Malaysia.

Man on the moon can wait a couple of years. The future of Malaysia as a country can’t.