Low Yat: the morning after

“You don’t have to wake me up for sahur,” I said to my friend as I prepared for bed.

Whenever I come to KL to attend some events, I usually crash at one of my friends’ place.

This time, I stayed with this friend at his grandparents’ house. One night, they woke me up and we had French toast for sahur.

Being the lazy Chinese that I am, I decided that sleep is more satisfying than food for the next few nights.

Staying with a Malay family is quite an eye-opening experience. Once, the grandmother asked me to say “Bismillah” before my friend and I drove out of the house.

I didn’t know if I should tell her that I am not a Muslim, so out of politeness, I nonchalantly pronounced the word (luckily there’s no one from Jakim nearby).

Before we slept, we have heard rumours of some troubles in Low Yat Plaza. The next morning, we could barely believe what happened in the streets of Bukit Bintang while we, a Chinese and a Malay family, slept peacefully under one roof.

I felt an urge to visit the “tempat kejadian” (crime scene). As always, I succumbed to temptation.

I took the LRT to Pasar Seni. A beggar was lying on the dirty floor. He did not seem to be bothered by the noise or smoke from the nearby buses.

Of all his features though, torn shirt and jeans included, for some reasons that day, I particularly noticed that he is Chinese.

I was lucky to find a Malay taxi driver to drive me to Low Yat Plaza. Sometimes when you pay people for a service, they would be more willing to talk. When we were stuck in traffic jam, I tried to start a conversation.

“Wah, semalam itu Low Yat gaduh owh”

For the few seconds before he responded, his face betrayed a certain hesitance, almost disdain, when he thought about the incident. Then he began.

“Itulah, itu Cina banyak menipu sama kita orang. Semakin kurang ajar tau mereka,” said the taxi driver. I can almost felt the weight of the word “Cina” when he said it.

“Bukan semua Cina la kan?”

“Majoriti lah... banyak Cina menipu punya.” I was momentarily taken aback by his frankness in front of me.

“Saya betul-betul bagi tau... kami Melayu ramai, jangan main-main dengan kami. Cina ada gengster tapi Melayu ada ramai kawan... Kalau Melayu mahu ambil balik Bukit Bintang, kita boleh punya.”

I asked what he meant by “ambil balik Bukit Bintang”.

“Tak bagi Cina berniaga lah. Kami ramai. Orang Cina ramai gengster, tapi orang Melayu ni banyak kawan. Jangan main-main dengan dia, nanti ramai kawan datang support.”

His dividing line between “friends who help friends” and “gangster bullies” seem to be hinged on whether they are members of his own group, but it was not my place to challenge him at the time.

What I do know is that this is a very different Malay than the one I stayed with the night before.

When I arrived at Low Yat Plaza, it was calm and quiet. People of all races still eat in the mamak shop opposite the entrance, as if nothing had happened.

I spoke to three Awani reporters covering the scene as well. We were surprised and somewhat “disappointed”.

Soon after, about 9.30am, the police started to make the rounds. It started with a few policemen on motorbikes, then the cars and the van. Some high-ranking officers. signified by their colourful badges, were there, too.

Even though we guessed that most shops would be closed for security reasons, the police did not take chances and scouted for any sign of troubles.

The heavy security presence brought the underlying tension to the surface. The mood on the ground shifted to one of wariness and suspicion.

Not long after, I had to leave the scene to attend an event in the city centre. So I took another cab; this time with a Chinese driver. I tried the same trick.

“Haih... all these problems are unnecessary one. All because of one handphone,” said the middle-aged taxi driver.

“Do you know what happened ah, uncle?”

“Apparently the guy stole the handphone and got caught. Then he brought his members go revenge.”

It’s intriguing that the two taxi drivers emphasised very different narratives. The first driver’s narrative is centred around the race bit, Malay solidarity, and how “we” could kick out “them”.

The second driver’s narrative is focused on the stealing part.

As I left the troubled areas and enter my familiar world, where racial tension is few and far in between (at least explicitly), I wonder about people who grow up in the “other” Malaysia, where racial tension is constantly fed and waiting to explode.

In Malaysia, two groups of thugs fighting is not just a gangster fight. Blind solidarity and racial sentiments coupled with urban poverty is a time bomb.

If deep-seated prejudices are perpetuated among the younger generation, then we must ponder how many generations have to play with this ugly beast before we call a stop to it?

As unthinkable as it is for those of us who are so used to be living in a harmonious multiracial Malaysia, you and I could have been beaten up during that night at Low Yat Plaza if we happen to pass the street purely because of our ethnicity and nothing else.

This is already happening. For my generation, who grew up mostly in peace, the Low Yat Plaza incident is the most vivid experience that gives us a taste of what May 13 was like.

I fret in horror to think that there might be a day when more and more people are forced to choose a side along ethnic lines.

Hopefully we can do our small bit to reduce the escalation of conflicts of such nature, at least among our own circles.

We can spread and promote the Malaysia that we know and grow up with. That doesn’t mean I’m denying the existence of the other Malaysia, in which people are growing up in communal ghettos and racial prejudices.

But let us do our part to create and promote the kinder Malaysia so that our children can live in a better society, not worse.

The post-Low Yat discourse is shaped by a fierce contestation between the two Malaysias.

Which version of Malaysia would you like to create? Which Malaysia would you promote?

I, for one, am not about to give up my Malaysia just yet. – July 25, 2015.

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