Returning to the true spirit of Malaysia

The late Tunku Abdul Rahman Putra Al-Haj would have celebrated his 112th birthday last Sunday, February 8th.

Fondly known as our country’s founding father, I can’t help but wonder what the late Tunku would think of the Malaysia today.

Would he look in pride at the many modern infrastructure, especially the icon that is the Petronas Twin Towers so significant to Kuala Lumpur; or would he be saddened that the country he sought to build on the “ideals of liberty and justice as a beacon of light in a disturbed and distracted world” [1]; now seems divided, dispirited, with its citizens prone to blaming each other rather than finding new solutions to move forward and creating a better nation.

2014 saw Malaysia tested by not one but three air disasters and one “the worst flood in national history”. The tragedies of last year alone should bring us together, for don’t we humans band together in times of tragedy?

Yet barely two months into 2015, here we are again, blaming each other along racial lines for the rising cost of living, employment opportunities, housing affordability, even the price of iced Milo!

Malaysians seem to be suffering from an Alzheimer’s of true Malaysian spirit, and seem hell-bent to blame everything and everyone else for our shortcomings. We are happy to stay as victims, that we would rather drink petrol if we could because well, a litre of petrol is cheaper than a glass of iced Milo at our favourite mamak shop.

Personally, the author prefers Milo from the Milo truck at running events, for such iced Milo goodness feel well deserved after a hard run in the heat of morning. Not to mention, way tastier.

We as consumers can always choose not to pay for overpriced products by simply taking our business elsewhere. Yet, I do not think that our choices should be influenced merely along sellers’ ethnicity.

I frequent shops, stalls, and vendors who have gained my trust and have a good rapport with me. I will always buy soya bean from the Jenny Hong truck after my run up Kiara Hills every weekend, buy apam manis from the stall behind TMC Bangsar, and do my groceries at my favourite vendors from the morning markets in Pasar Taman Tun.

To me, the small conversations I make with these vendors and sellers mean a lot more than a boycott along racial lines.

Try this, the next time you make your purchase at your local pasar or having a drink at your favourite kopitiam, engage the next person in a conversation, ask them about their day and eventually you will make acquaintance with fellow Malaysians.

These conversations tell the stories of everyday people with their everyday struggle; beautiful in its diversity yet insightful and inspiring in their own way.

If one only listens closely enough, one would come to the realization that every single one of us actually has the same story to tell. All over purchasing a bowl of tau foo fah or buying vegetables for the week’s dinner.

Why are we still talking race five years to 2020? I really cannot fathom it. We are a 56-year-old country, surely we would be more comfortable in our own skin by now?

All my years growing up, I have been to three BTN courses, and have sung “Negaraku” more times than I can remember during school assemblies and formal events.

But it was only recently that I really, truly, deeply felt the meaning behind every syllable of the song. It happened not at a formal event where I was in what I would dub my “gomen” baju kurung, but there I was sweaty, in a t-shirt and running skirt- having spent hours being a part of several human chains transporting goods into lorries bound for the east coast’s flood relief efforts by #rakyat4rakyat.

It was not in a cinema, nor on a school field. It was a gathering of everyday Malaysians from all races and walks of life in front of a shop that (ironically) sells American burgers, in Taman Tun.

Every single one of us stood still and sang “Negaraku”. It was the most heartfelt moment in my life. I finally, really felt like I am a Malaysian. That I do belong to this country, and that I am patriotically bound to it, truly my “tanah tumpahnya darahku”.

I did not have the chance to know the late Tunku personally, but I somehow feel that if he were there with us on that day, he would have approved, that the particular moment was a representation of the Malaysia with the ideals of justice and liberty that he envisioned.

It is with this spirit that I go to work everyday, hoping to teach a bit of science to younger, more agile minds. It is with this spirit that I hope to live my life on Malaysian soil, until the day that I return to God. It is with this spirit that I ask everyone to join me to boycott racism, hatred, bigotry, and our own insecurities and victim mentality.

Let us instead move forward as citizens of this sovereign nation, dedicated to the service of a country we want.

Happy Birthday, Tunku. Al-fatihah.

[1] Excerpt from Proclamation of Independence for Malaya, 31st August, 1957. – February 11, 2015.

* This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insider.