What Else Do The Chinese Want?

My paternal grandfather was born in 1903 in Fuzhou, China. He migrated to Air Itam, Straits Settlement Penang in 1918 and then to Sungai Petani, Unfederated State of Kedah, in 1925. He renounced his Chinese citizenship in Sep 1949 and became a subject of the Ruler of Kedah together with his wife and children. My dad was born in 1938 in Sungai Petani, Kedah. Kedah is one of the eleven states of the Federation of Malaya which gained independence on 31 Aug 1957. Malaysia was formed on 16 Sep 1963 when the states of North Borneo, Sarawak and Singapore joined the Federation. I was born in Sungai Petani, Kedah in July the same year. Ergo, I am truly a 3^rd generation Kedahan, 2^nd generation Malayan and 1^st generation Malaysian, not a “pendatang” or “penumpang” but I savor pork, and most proud of my Chinese ancestry.

“What else do the Chinese, meaning me, want, meaning from you”, you shrieked like mad dogs. Oh, am I supposed to be cowed, terrified and tuck my tail between my trembling legs in silent submission? Let you in on a Chinese saying, “It is the quiet dog that kills” and you actually shrieked like a demented empty vessel. Anyway, in order for your question to be valid it must be premised on the fact that I must have prior appropriated or stolen something from you. Otherwise it is a mere rhetorical “shiok sendiri” threat.

Helicopter View of Bersih 4

What have I taken from you? Hmm, let me see. I scratched my head bald trying to recall what belonged to you that I have taken without recompense, paying for or earning them. For the life of me, pray tell what have I taken from you? I have neither interest nor appropriated any of those government crutches, quotas and handouts. You only know how to foam and bark like rabid dogs when you do not get handouts. I have worked hard all my life. You only know how to scream and rant epileptically like retarded morons when you do not have enough. You have only your own slothfulness to blame for your lack and failures. Have some dignity and stop bringing shame to your parents, your race and your religion.

Don’t shame your parents. Gravitate not towards those rogue shit stirrers who only spit out venom and deceits. Don’t disgrace your race. Support not their vile foolery for they are but malicious attention seeking fraudsters. Don’t insult your religion. Avoid them scoundrels as hell’s fire for there is where they are destined. Don’t dishonor yourself. Join not their villainous ranks for they have sold their souls to wickedness, violence, corruption and devilry. Well, rehabilitate them if you wish to the path of righteousness, peace, harmony and light, incarcerate them if you can’t, and don’t forget to throw away the keys.

Let me see. What have I stolen from you? I am not sure about you but such acts would shame my family. My ancestors would turn in their graves if any one of us becomes a thief. My conscience and my God forbid such acts of thievery. You may argue that you did not mean stealing in the literal sense but reason that you meant depriving. Fine, what have I deprived you off then?

I did not grovel for JPA scholarships. I read on Papa-Mama scholarship. I studied overseas. I did study in any of the local public tertiary institutions which are best mediocre but mostly sub standard. I did not work in the local civil service. I worked in the private sector again overseas. I built my career and earned my living on my own toils and sweats. I did not expect or wait for handouts. So how have I deprived you of public scholarships, civil employments or national handouts? I am not sure about you but ask any Chinese, he or she will tell you that we are taught to strive to excel in academic and career, live frugally and save our hard earned money for rainy days, be filial to our elders, be charitable to the less fortunate and always be loyal and pay our dues to the nation.

Have I bought anything from you without paying? Have I murdered any of you? Have I curtailed your freedom? Have I been unjust to you? Have I threatened you? Have I assaulted you? Have I demeaned your God? Have I taken any chief and key senior positions in the government, government linked companies, civil service, judiciary, police and military? Pray tell.

Aunty Bersih

What happened to you to cause you to embrace the dark side? What caused you to be so violent and vicious? What happened to your humanity? Surely, your religion must have imbued into you peace, mercy and compassion. Why are you so jealous and envious? How did you become so obnoxious and hideous? Surely, your culture must have valued hard work, contentment and goodness. How did you become so dim and convoluted? How did you become so spiteful and malicious? Surely, your parents must have inculcated into you decency, compassion and humanity.

Why do you threaten people? Why do you bay for bloodshed? Are you really so blood thirsty or just covering up your cowardice? Why do you harp on your conjured heritage? Why do you insist on your imagined supremacy? Are you really so inadequate or just ashamed of your mixed ancestry? Why do you demand free aids? Why do you blame others for your lack? Are you really so useless or just addicted to quotas and handouts? Why do you persist to insult others? Why do you insist on respect not earned? Are you really so disrespectful or suffering from inferior complex? Why do you burn churches? Why do you keep on recycling the lame old communist & Chinese bogeymen? Why do you continue to wave the race, religion & ruler card? Are you really so fond of stirring shit or just lacking new ideas?

Let me ask. Who stole your reserve land? Who deprived you of your share in the nation’s wealth? Who took advantage of your sweats, toils and blood? Who caused your backwardness? Who failed you economically? It was your own leaders.

Who was behind the 1MDb debacle, NFC fiasco and various multi-billion ignominies? Who set you up for failures? Who failed to equip you with life skills? Who taught you to be at best mediocre? Who caused the decline and failure of the education system? Who brainwashed you into racism and bigotry? It was your own leaders who walk on the corridors of power.

Who have murdered Teoh Beng Hock, Sarbani and Altantuya? Who deprived you of your freedom? Who taught you to rob? Who trained you to accept bribes? Who soiled your dignity? Who corrupted you soul? It was your very own leaders, those who walk on the corridors of power together and your very own who occupy the top, senior and every level of the judiciary, civil service, police and army.

Ask any Chinese, he or she will be able to tell you that Chinese want just to live freely in peace and harmony, to be treated fairly and not to be blamed for your own inadequacy and inferiority. Learn to be fishermen and not just wait for fish, work hard and not wait for handouts lest you turn into a lazy beggar. Expect that fish you will surely morph into a useless parasite. Demand that fish as rights you will definitely mutate into a repulsive pariah. Stop begrudging your neighbor’s affluence. Stop demanding for government’s quotas and handouts. Stop being a dead weight to the nation. Start earning your own living. Be grateful and contented. Take pride in yourself, your career and your diverse culture and ancestry.

Stakeout?

When I was young, I would retaliate. It is spare no quarters expect none, an eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth. F#@K your race based preferential policies and treatments! F#@K your religion based preferential policies and treatments! As I mature, I learn to forgive as retaliations would result in a blind and toothless world. I mean, if you choose to rot and regress that is your choice, your business. Now that I am older and wiser, I learn that you are only a handful among your people who are losers, and I should just ignore all your rant and raving for you are nothing but attention deprived imbeciles with damaged childhood. You seek attention and thrive on retaliations. Ignore you, you will wilt and wither away irrelevantly.

Finally, a word of advice, do not mistake a sleeping tiger for a sick cat and irritate it at your own peril. Our patient silence to your incessant provocations must not be mistaken for terrified cowardice, for we lack no courage to fight back, to defend ourselves when push comes to shove. In your legend, even a timid mouse deer fought back while we are descendants of Dragons. Remember, our hearts were forged, our ferocity steeled and our blood fired from over 5000 years of turmoil, warfare and bloodshed. Bear that in mind the next time you open your foul mouths, BODOH!

24 Years Ago

It was after dinner. The night was windless and shrouded in haze. Annie was chatting with Josh on Whatsapp. Josh mentioned that he had a rather hectic, almost overwhelming, weekend. KK Women’s & Children’s Hospital was a scene of frantic baby boom town. Annie suggested that it was probably due to the auspicious 8^th lunar month and equally auspicious year of the goat, and also providential S50 Year of Jubilee. I was sitting beside her, listening into their conversation, and memory of Josh’s birthday flooded back.

It was also the year of the more auspicious Golden Goat, 1991 and Christmas was around the corner. I was on standby, paternal leave applied in advance and waiting anxiously for the call as Josh was almost 10 days overdue. I was out on inspection of a foreign bank when the awaited phone rang. Praise God, Annie’s water bag had burst but surprisingly without any contractions. I calmed her and assured that I am coming back. I jumped onto the taxi and headed for home, anxious and excited.

I met an equally anxious face when I opened the door. We exchanged worried look that something was amiss as there were still no contractions. Haven’t we been briefed by her obstetrician & gynecologist, Dr. Kek or read somewhere or some books that the contractions were expected at onset of labor? We quickly called Dr. Kek to inform her that we are coming in. We snatched the overnight bag, grabbed a taxi and headed for Mount Elizabeth Hospital.

Mum & Son

Upon checking into the maternity ward, Annie was seated on a wheel chair and immediately wheeled into the delivery suite with me in tow. She changed into clean maternity pajamas and nurses quickly strapped and linked her to all the electronic monitors. The room was faintly lavender scented, soothing music playing softly in the background, to calm any anxiety and hopefully make the delivery a pleasant and memorable one. We held hands, muttered inaudibly in prayer to comfort and waited, waited and waited, with nurses dropping in intermittently for cursory checks on Annie and quick scrutiny of the printouts from the monitors.

Dr. Kek dropped by to give some last minute words of encouragement. She went over the printouts, periods between contractions and check on state of dilation. The staff nurse whispered mutedly to Dr. Kek, she nodded and then whispered back her instructions. Apparently, December in the year of the Golden Goat was the peak season for having babies with many Monkey year babies due in early January induced to join in the crowd. Every delivery suite was needed for more imminent deliveries. Many expecting mothers were already queuing and waiting in the waiting room. Annie was wheeled into the waiting room, a rather Spartan room with 12 beds arranged in a row against the wall each bed separated by cubicle curtain. I must say, Mount Elizabeth’s delivery ward was being run like clockwork, orderly and efficient, with babies being born into the chaos, cacophony and cries of pain and joy that day.

In the waiting room, staff nurses would rush by regularly flipping up the pajamas for a quick cursory dilation checks. As quickly as one appeared, she would disappear immediately as whirlwind unless her attention was grabbed by the magical 10-cm dilation. Almost immediately as if unbeckoned a few nurses like workers bees would fuss around the lucky expecting mother like the reigning queen bee before wheeling her to the delivery suite. One nurse stopped by my missus’ bed but instead of flipping she smiled at me and cordially handed me a bag of consumables. I found out later the consumables were removed from the delivery room, not FOC and I would be charged for them.

Many were wheeled into the delivery suites to be followed by wailings of babies soon thereafter while we were left wondering and worrying in the waiting room, waiting without further dilations and contractions. We were beginning to feel anxious. It was almost dinner time. Annie was downgraded to the regular ward. We had a quick bite at the hospital canteen. Later she was hooked intravenously to induce contractions. I left with a promise to come back early the next morning.

I slept fitfully that night. The phone rang urgently, very early the next morning. The induced contractions had started and the pain was building up. I warp sped to Mount Elizabeth and Annie was wheeled into the delivery suite for the second time. Once again we waited, waited and waited but I guess Josh refused to be hurried. Contractions came in waves but the dilation did not.

As the delivery suite was needed for another more immediate delivery, Annie was again wheeled back into waiting room and I was handed and charged for another bag of consumables. The contraction pain intensified becoming too unbearable that Annie had to opt for epidural anesthesia. Later she was wheeled into the delivery suite for the last time and we waited and waited and again as before Joshua refused to be hurried.

Josh wondering?

In the evening, Dr. Kek dropped by and decided that Annie should not wait anymore and Josh would have to come out through Caesarean whether he likes it or not. We were not surprise, kind of expected it. Annie’s water bag had broken for over 24 hours ago. Further, she was just too exhausted to go through normal delivery after 17 hours of labour pain and contractions. Needless to add, Josh was just too big a baby for his petite mother. Actually, we were already prior warned by Dr. Kek during pre-natal checkups and ultra sound scans. I hugged and pecked her on her forehead before they wheeled her to prep her for operation.

I did not pace anxiously outside the operating theatre and no baby’s cry to pierce my anxiety as in the movies. Before I know it, Joshua was wheeled out in a space age transparent Perspex cot, thoroughly cleaned and snugly wrapped. Time of birth 8.13 pm. I was momentarily mesmerized, for before me for the very first time in my life was the most beautiful of God’s creation, my very own flesh and blood, my very own first born son. He was just so angelic, peacefully asleep comfortably and snuggly in his cot. I gently picked him up and tightly held him close to my chest so that he could hear my heartbeat. Joshua wriggled and let out a whimper. I drew him closer and whispered a prayer of love into his ear and he quickly went back to his sleep.

I cradled him tightly in my left arm, single handedly and confidently as if he was not my first. I paraded him proudly around the ward bragging to any and all around that evening until I was told that my missus had been moved out of the operating theatre and warded. I gently laid Joshua into his cot and handed him back to the attending nurse. I excitedly headed for Annie.

I softly opened the door. I must admit I was rather distressed to see Annie shivering rather violently despite the layers of blanket. One kind nurse calmed me when she saw the distress in my eyes. She explained that shivering is a normal bodily process to build up heat and increase core temperature post-operation. Despite her shivering, my missus muttered something through her chattering teeth. At first I could not make out what she was muttering. I put my ear nearer to her lips. Her very first question was, “How many fingers and toes?” I assured her everything was fine, every finger and toe accounted for. In fact, it was more than fine, weighing in at 3.77 kg Josh was truly the most beautiful and bouncy of babies, to me at least even though I may be bias. I left her to rest for the night.

I returned early the next morn. Unfortunately, Annie was down with high fever from her exhaustion. She was very disappointed as she could not yet breast feed her first born. I went to the nursery and wheeled Joshua to her. He was sleeping peacefully. She wanted to cradle him, hold him close to her bosoms but we just had to wait for him to stir. Words could not express our feelings as we just watched him adoringly. Joshua stretched in the tight bundle, his lovely face turning red from his effort and began to stir and opened his eyes. I quickly picked him up and gently handed him over to his mother. She held him close to her bosoms, cuddling him tightly and whispered a prayer lovingly into his ear. She then un-wrapped Josh gently and counted his tiny fingers and toes carefully and we exchanged understanding smiles affectionately. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, tears of joy and thanksgiving.

Dr. Kek & Dr. Josh

I bottled fed, burped, cleaned and changed diapers for Josh as Annie was still in bed recovering from high fever. Later that evening, she took her first step out of bed. She prayed for a speedy recovery as she was prohibited from breast feeding Josh due to her fever and medication. We took turns attending, feeding and changing Josh at every opportunity, cradling and cuddling him. Her fever subsided two days later and both mother and son were discharged the following evening. I remember vividly that evening before Christmas Eve, Orchard Road was crowded, brightly lit and merrily decorated already in full swing celebration of another birth in a manger some 2000 years ago. Of course, I can never forget my “heart attack” when I settled the bills.

In a blink, 24 years of fun, joy, mischief and heartache have passed. Josh has grown up into a fine promising young man, and quite handsome too if I may say. What more can I say, he inherited his mother’s good looks and my grey matter. He has just gone back to the country of his birth, gone home according to him, to pursue the calling and fulfill the aspiration of his life. God bless and God speed, my son, my first born, my pride and joy.

Bersih 4 Destiny

Morning below Masjid Jamek LRT Station

As expected, it was show time again with the usual ludicrous parodies of roguish morons and minions. Puerile “wayang silat” of breaking some twigs and tiles over their numb skulls to instill fear by the usual thuggish scumbags in red attracted only public repugnance and disgust. What else can one expects from idiots with empty thick skulls. Last minute gazette banning of anything yellow with Bersih 4 by the Home Ministry to intimidate only boosted Bersih 4 T-shirt into must have collector’s item and a roaring business for enterprising re-prints.

The barricading of Dataran Merdeka by not too intelligent KL Municipal Council, the malevolent and mischievous assertion of Emergency military intervention by the not too apolitical Defence Chief and to top it all the unbecoming name calling by the definitely embarrassing Prime Minister, did nothing to intimidate Bersih participants but only manage to add steel to their resolve. Bersih 4’s momentum could no longer be crushed nor contained nor stemmed.

Missus & I @ Bersih 4

Missus & I were part of the 3-bus convoy of from out station Sungai Petani, Kedah. We were quite anxious but well prepared to meet any untoward incidents, packing some salt, a thick facial towel, 2 bottles of water and a gas mask and well briefed on the escape strategy. We were very excited, raring to be in the thick of action for Bersih 34-hour Rally had started in Kuala Lumpur a few hour prior and Dr Mahathir did grace the rally just now. Well, he was still most welcome despite being the chief architect of the nation’s malignant rot as his rights to do so as any free citizens of the country. In any case, he has become the enemy of those who walk on the corridors of power. His wife, Datin Siti Hasmah, though was most welcome anytime, anywhere and anyhow.

Sigh, where is Starship Enterprise when we needed it most? Warp speed or better still beam us there, Scotty. Instead we boarded our bus for my longest and most bone rattling trip to Kuala Lumpur. We arrived after a longer than usual trip. We alighted light headed and rubber footed at Titiwangsa LRT station as many roads toward the city center were closed in preparation for the Merdeka celebration.

Peering down from the alleviated LRT on our way to Masjid Jamek station, I spotted only a smattering of yellow around SOGO. I felt a bit disheartened for SOGO is one of the 5 designated rallying points. Where is yellow tsunami that reportedly flooded the area yesterday? Did I hear correctly or is the whole affair just exaggerated rumors? I bit back my comments from my enthusiastic missus beside me. We alighted at Masjid Jamek station, the epicenter of the previous night rally and the sleep over, into a rather deserted Jalan Tun Perak, serene and calm morning. Not many were still sleeping on cardboards along the sides and middle dividers of the road some were in tents while those awake were chatting mutedly. Again, where are the thousands reported?

A few were gathered under service tents along the road handing out free bread, packed meal, nasi lemak and bottled water, providing first aid and medical attention or just looking for volunteer clean-up crew. Well, this time around, things were much better organized I daresay learning from past experiences. Many donated food and drinks even coffee and mooncakes and many more stepped forward to volunteer their time and energy to serve the multitude of Bersih participants and to clean up thereafter.

I was met by a sweet lady at one of such stations who offered, “Good morning, sir, would you like to have some bread and water,” and jokingly added, “Or me?” earning laughter from those around. I opted for “me” and took a photograph with her for keepsake. I was interviewed by a student for her Youtube assignment on Bersih. I was actually intrigued when I saw her talking into her right palm. I thought she must have gone bonkers until I saw her miniature recorder. We also met Arul from Party Socialist Malaysia.

Notwithstanding, I did feel that the atmosphere was rather subdued after the reported energy, vibes and vibrancy on the preceding night. The night’s high octane celebration seemed to have dissipated overnight rather quickly.  Or is it just the calm before the impending storm?

Anyway, with a slight falter of trepidation, we meandered toward Central Market and Petaling Street, the other two rallying points. My heart hoped, rather unconfidently, actually unconvincingly that most must have gone there for an early breakfast. We passed by Central Market which was closed and empty. My shoulders sagged a notch when we entered Petaling Street. Most street vendors and shop were closed. I quickened my pace toward the side street food hawkers.

I caught the fragrant whiff of Petaling Street’s famous Chinese pancake. The aroma was comfortingly sweet and hot for then I realized my early trepidation was unfounded, ill conceived presumptions. I turned the corner, my heart leapt. Truly, many were already heartily digging into their breakfast, early risers and those few I saw earlier were hangover sleepers. I had wanton noodle whilst my missus Hakka noodle. I needed my caffeine kick but somehow the shop help refused, divinely or purposely or inadvertently I knew not, to take my orders.

Sunday Worship @ Bersih 4

We then walked back to Masjid Jamek, stopped over in front of the Bar Council building where a Pastor was preaching to his 100-strong flock. We took some photographs at the police barricades across Leboh Pasar Besar leading into Dataran. The scene was very tranquil with the presence of a handful of police on the other side of the barricades unlike the chaos and tear gas from police brutality during Bersih 3.

As we ambled back to Jalan Tun Perak, then tempo began to pick up and yellow crowd thickened. I was so grateful that volunteers were handing out free cups of coffee. I unashamedly asked for two to stave off the onset of cold turkey from caffeine deficiency. The coffee was not just aromatic but tasted damn good. I was floating in the heavens on my first sip, and you probably need a pair of pliers to tear the contented smile from my face.

Anyway, the yellow crowd began to thicken further as we neared the police barricades across Jalan Raya/Tun Perak junction, the morning’s epicenter. “Ceramah” at that junction was already in full swing interspersed occasionally by chants of “Bersih! Bersih!” and “Reformasi! Reformasi!” More and more participants in yellow began to pour into the already crowded junction, some carrying banners, buntings and placards, and of course mock-up cheques for RM$2.6 billion payable to you know who.

On the other side of the barricades was just a deserted Dataran Merdeka. The ubiquitous and angry presence of FRUs and “Black Maria” trucks arrayed in battle formations during Bersih 3 were gratefully absent despite earlier Police threats and intimidations. Tactically, Bersih 4 made the right decision to rallying around Dataran on the eve of Merdeka leaving no opportunity whatsoever for the Police and provocateurs to instigate any riots or clashes as they did during Bersih 3 unless they want to ruin or even cancel the following day 58^th Merdeka Celebration.

Bersih 4 Bystander

We waded back against the incoming yellow tide away from the epicenter as more and more participants strolled in for we needed our toilet break. My missus was cautiously skittish for there were provocateurs, shit stirrers, in our midst. A handful has been caught the night before. We meandered away from serious “ceramah” into the festivity, snapping photographs, singing and chanting along as we made our way towards St. John’s Catholic Church on a small hillock at Jalan Bukit Nanas. The Church had truly heeded the Lord’s call of grace to serve by attending to the needs of participants. For that I am proud of the Church’s acts of grace and grateful to the church volunteers for their efforts and smiles.

Apart from bread and water, I did enjoy two refreshingly succulent and sweet oranges and engaged in a quick chat with one of the volunteers. It was Sunday morning, Mass was being conducted, and lo and behold a familiar lady strolled into the compound. We were pleasantly surprised to see Aunty Annie better known as Aunty Bersih. At the first glance, she could be easily misunderstood as a skinny grumpy aunty with a quarrel with the rest of the world but she is actually quite a sweet unassumingly lady especially when she smiles but still feisty no less.

We walked back to Petaling Street for the second time that morning. The place was crowded bustling with business especially the food and drinks vendors. Main street media would probably spin the old business losses sob story caused by Bersih for those gullible public. My energy battery was buzzing off warning incessantly, my legs were stiff and aching and I was sweating like a pig from the heat and my morning walk, I reckoned I must have walked at least 10 km already by then. I gulped down a bottle of soya bean and two glasses of herbal tea, all ice cooled and sweetened, for I needed to cool down, re-hydrate and re-energize.

Rested and refreshed, we started to stroll, while I actually limped, back toward Masjid Jamek. My legs finally gave way and refused to cooperate, unwilling to take further agonizing steps. So we stopped to take a 5 minute breather and sat on the walkway outside HSBC Bank along Leboh Ampang just to watch and enjoy the ebbs and flows of the yellow tides. Some enterprising youth were selling mini Bersih flags and another man was hawking the noisy vuvuzelas in front of us.

An Indian couple was at lost what to do when one of their 3 children, the youngest refused to let go off the vuvuzela. She made it very clear she wanted one and her parents were in some sort of a dilemma as it was obvious they could not afford one, not to mention 3 as their other two children were also holding tightly to a vuvuzela each. They just looked at each other waiting for the other to break the hearts of their children. I was about to limp over when another kind soul beat me to it. She spoke to the vendor and paid for all three. The couple was surprised by the act of kindness and could not but thanked the kind lady profusely. Indeed, deep down we are all hard wired with kindness and kindness is color blind.

Time passed rather quickly and before I know it, we have sat there enjoying the festivity in front of us for almost an hour. My eye-lids were getting heavy. I was quite exhausted by then and I need a short power nap. We moved and sat at the entrance of HSBC Bank, I was hoping to catch some shut eye. Soon, it started to drizzle which quickly turned into a downpour. People were running helter-skelter for cover and many were already caught too late to escape thoroughly drenched. I thought that would bring Bersih 4 to a quick and premature end, cooling down the feverish built up and washing out the momentum gathered. I gazed upon the heaven and muttered a silent prayer. Let the downpour, heavy no doubt, but be a short one just enough to cool down the temperature for a more comfortable night finale and not be a protracted deluge to totally washout Bersih 4 for good for the rest of the day.

True enough, many must have uttered the same prayers for the rain quickly reduced into a drizzle then stopped. Yellow tides began to return in their earnest after that even those drenched earlier to rejoin the thousands who did not flee but celebrated in the rain. There seems to nothing under heaven or on mother earth, definitely not even from those who walk on the corridors of power that could or would douse this fiery passion of Bersih 4. As in Hollywood, come hell or high water, the show must go on.

Bersih 4 Yellow Tsunami below Masjid Jamek LRT station

I picked up my lazy ass and joined with the throngs gravitating to the epicenter at Masjid Jamek LRT station. Mien Gott! The atmosphere was electrifying and the mood celebratory. Jalan Tun Perak was inundated in yellow by the thousands, a hundred thousand at least, participants proudly wearing the forbidden Bersih 4 T-shirts. They jam-packed like sardines on the road, middle dividers and kerbs from Lebuh Pasar Besar junction all the way to Jalan Raja junction. Ranks upon ranks of some 80-100 participants across packed in only standing space over almost a kilometer of Jalan Tun Perak. More were pouring in from every possible nook and cranny. If I have to make a guesstimate, I reckoned some 120-150 thousands would be about right ballpark figure, were there to make a united stand for clean elections, a clean government, to save the economy and the freedom to demonstrate.

Despite the threats of physical violence and arrest, Malaysians from all walks of life, regardless of race and religion came to stand together. The mood was exuberant and festive, enthusiasm cheerful and energetic and passion feverish and electrifying. We will not be afraid anymore. We will not be cowed anymore. We will not be silenced anymore. We have found our voice. Our voice, the People’s Voice for a better Malaysia will reverberate aloud across the country and the globe. Ignore this People’s Voice at your own peril!

Despite threats of bloodshed, many Malaysian Chinese have finally found their courage to step out of the age old long suffering virtue and take the stand that enough is enough. We will not remain silent or be browbeaten as “pendatang” anymore as before. To all you foul mouth evil heart hate mongers I say go eat shit! To your idiotic “Apa lagi Cina mahu (What else do you Chinese want)” rhetoric, I say “Bodoh! Sejak bila kami ambil barang-barang kamu (Stupid! Since when did we take anything from you).” And remember, ailing tigers we are not.

Despite similar threats, torching of churches and confiscations of Malay bible or banning of the use of the word “Allah”, the Church of God has finally found the boldness and faithfulness to step up and out in love and to stand in the gap for righteousness as should any true followers of Christ, and not hide behind the old theology of meekly turning the other cheek each time and cowardly every time.

The only fly in the ointment for Bersih 4 I must admit was the almost hijacking by politicians hawking their political agenda and raring to provoke Establishment’s retaliations. Gratefully, all participants stayed true to the call and course of Bersih 4 right to the end, staying out of Dataran and finally dispersing peacefully when the final bell was struck.

Helicopter View of Bersih 4

I am proud of all my fellow Malaysians who stood united at Bersih 4. Individually were a a mere drop but together we are a tsunami. We are truly appointed by destiny. Our voice will clearly thunder into history. We will undoubtedly overcome inequality. We will certainly prevail over adversity. We will definitely triumph over evil travesty. Together, we will surely forge a free, fair and equitable Malaysia for our children and our children’s children. Viva Bersih! Viva Malaysia!