Saad and Ayyan

Two 10-year-old boys meekly approached me, wearing sheepish grins. 

“Assalamualaikum..”

“Yes?”

“We want to apologise about yesterday..”

Yesterday as the two boys entered the masjid, they saw me and whispered (audibly) to each other: 

“Chang Ching Chong is here” 

- alluding to my Oriental appearance.

Fighting the temptation to give them a piece of my mind there and then, I instead kept my cool and approached the man who brought the two boys to the masjid.

I asked him who they were - he said they were his son and nephew. Aged 10.

I told him what they called me, and reminded him that racism is wrong in Islam.

Visibly embarrassed, he told me he will handle it.

I asked him not to scold them - they are only young and didn’t know better. But they DO need to be told that what they did was wrong.

After salah, I approached the family of three as they were leaving the masjid.

“I just want to say that what you did today was very brave - apologising.

Not many grown-ups are able to do that.”

They grinned. A bit more proudly this time.

Saad and Ayyan, you are growing up in a world full of prejudice and hate. Already some of it has tainted you.

But as long as you retain the courage to admit your mistakes and apologise, there still is hope.

(And we adults can learn a thing or two on that too)

Of Merdeka, Arafah and Sacrifice

“O people, lend me an attentive ear!”
the man called out over 1400 years ago at the plain of Arafah.

What followed was a series of words profound - announcing ideals timeless, yet way ahead of its time.
For in a world where societies were still organised by caste and women were treated as little more than chattel, Muhammad’s s.a.w. final sermon asserted a consistent thread throughout his lifetime struggle: equality among people and peoples.

“All mankind is from Adam and Eve,
an Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab nor does a non-Arab has any superiority over an Arab;
also a white has no superiority over a black nor a black has any superiority over a white except by taqwa (God-consciousness) and good action.”

As breathtaking as those words were was its audience - the gathering at Arafah listening to the speech were men and women from a myriad of tribal, national and socioeconomic backgrounds. In that crowd were people and peoples who were enemies of each other just a few years prior.
On that day they were all united in performing the Hajj - affirming their faith in the Oneness of their Creator, and the oneness of His creation.

It was only to such an extraordinary gathering would the message of the sermon have resonated so strongly - strong enough to echo through the ages and the continents, and spread to an audience even bigger and even more diverse than that at Arafah over 1400 years ago.

“Merdeka!”

The man called out 60 years ago at Merdeka Stadium:
Tunku Abdul Rahman announced to the world the birth of a new sovereign nation; one independent of the political clutches of her former colonial master.

Decades on, Malaysia has climbed to heights unimaginable in 1957.
Today she has become an influential political and economic force in Asia.
Today she has placed herself firmly on the world stage by participating in major international political decisions, through success in international sporting events, and is a favourite holiday destination for visitors the world over.

But today, her independence is still far from complete; behind the facade of a peaceful, dynamic melting pot this nation has not yet banished the spectre of poor race relations.
For the people of this fair land, unity has proven to be the unattainable Malaysian Dream - a Dream played out in the form of romanticised advertisements come every festive period featuring the Malay, Chinese and Indian boys who are the best of friends.

Yes, there is a beauty to diversity - but diversity can sadly be a double-edged sword.
After all, it is part of human nature to be uncomfortable with the presence of the Other - other races, other religions, other cultures different and unfamiliar to Us - our race, our religion, our culture.
The tragedy is that this discomfort can easily turn to fear, and the worst of the human condition present in all of us can manifest in society in the form of discrimination, exploitation and apathy.

In Malaysia we grow up being taught the importance of “tolerance” towards the Other.
But 60 years after Merdeka is a good a time as any to ask ourselves:
Is mere tolerance good enough anymore?

1) ACCEPTANCE

Specifically, an acceptance that diversity is not something to be loathed or feared.
In fact, diversity is described in the Quran as a sign of God:

“And of His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth and the diversity of your languages and your colors. Indeed in that are signs for those of knowledge.” - Al-Quran [30:22]

This genuine acceptance of diversity must occur in every racial, religious and socioeconomic group in Malaysian society. This must be an awakening which happens at the grassroot level, a realisation that the time for indifference and lazy waiting for government efforts to banish our national demons for us is over.

After all diversity is a cornerstone of our national identity, and unity is our Dream.
The Malaysian Dream will stay forever as that - a dream - if we continue to be satisfied with mere romanticisation of ‘the good old days’.

2) RAHMAH

The definition of tolerance is to endure something unpleasant i.e. to tolerate a loud noise, or a bad stench.
Has this been how the diverse social groups in this country have been taught to coexist so far?
If so, no wonder that spectre of racial tension has never left us - we have given it license to stay by “tolerating” its presence..!

No - it is not tolerance we need, but rahmah: an Arabic word the meaning of which encompasses mercy, compassion, and love.
Let the Other not be feared, but be seen instead through the lens of rahmah.

But how?

3) SACRIFICE

This year, Muslims will celebrate Eidul Adha the day after Merdeka day.

It is a day which should not be overlooked as just another Malaysian holiday - because the celebration of Eidul Adha is a commemoration of Ibrahim’s a.s. willingness to sacrifice his beloved son on the command of his Lord, and in this is a lesson immensely relevant to Malaysians in 2017.

For a nation bound together by rahmah will be but a fantasy if we do not follow the example of Ibrahim a.s., and sacrifice. For us Malaysians, this sacrifice will have to be in the form of our time, effort, and above all our egos.

We have to do so by proactively and honestly connecting with those people - our neighbours, colleagues, strangers - who we now know merely as Abu, Ah Chong and Muthusamy.
In truly engaging with them we will come across inconvenient differences in perspectives, and issues which may challenge our worldview or make us uncomfortable.

But that is exactly the point: that perhaps, with dialogue, we will start to know them as more than just Abu, Ah Chong, and Muthusamy - and start seeing our common humanity.

In short our independence as a people will only be complete when we are united by a sense of rahmah; and that in turn will only come about with the sacrifice of our time, effort and egos.
This is a formula so very simple in theory - but exceedingly difficult in practice.

This year, the gathering at Arafah coincides with Merdeka day.
If anything, that gathering should be a source of hope that diversity does not have to mean disunity. And yes - a reminder that there is truly a beauty to diversity.

Those at that plain over 1400 years ago, listening to his sermon in person, were instructed by Muhammad s.a.w. to “take these words to those who could not be present here today”

Dutifully, they did. Perhaps we should lend an attentive ear.

In a Masjid in Puchong

I distinctly remember my mind being blown,

as I opened that book 

picked off a shelf 

in a masjid in Puchong

over four years ago now -

a Chinese translation of the Quran.

Immediately I turned the page

to one of my favourite ayat,

and as I often did back then 

took a picture, put on a cheap filter, and posted it on Insta 😓

But why did the image of Chinese letters

side by side with the Quran's Arabic words

have to blow my mind so?

When we have been taught in school

that the message of Islam is universal,

for all peoples of the world?

Perhaps it's because we have forgotten 

this unifying message of the deen,

and replaced it with the sentiment of racism and nationalism;

a sentiment taught implicitly in our Muslim homes, 

and lived out in our everyday lives.

All under the guise of 

Us Muslims, versus Them kafirs.

Until eventually we come to believe 

that Islam is Arabic,

or Malay.

How sad, how ironic

that we Muslims are the ones who hide the universal beauty of Islam

on a shelf in a masjid in Puchong:

"O mankind, 

indeed We have created you from male and female and 

made you peoples and tribes that 

you may know one another. 

Indeed, the most noble of you 

in the sight of Allah 

is the most righteous of you. 

Indeed, 

Allah is Knowing and Acquainted." 

- Surah Al-Hujurat:13

Malaysian Blood

A sample of blood was recently obtained from a cohort of randomised Malaysian volunteers. The samples were centrifuged, and the results observed in all of them were remarkably similar:

This study decisively proves a fact that has long been suspected: 

POLITICS RUNS IN THE VEINS OF MALAYSIANS.

Which is not much of a surprise, to be honest. 

The mamak stall industry, after all, has long known about and thrived on this very fact - providing a platform for Malaysians to discuss politics more effectively than the Parliament (seriously, have you seen those debates??)

Incidentally, the success of this industry also explains the presence of the other two components of Malaysian blood - oil and teh tarik.

This very fact, though, is exactly the reason why it is now such a scary time to be Malaysian.

And no, I am not talking about diabetes or high blood cholesterol (although those are also pretty scary).

It is a scary time because change has happened.

Admittedly, not a change in government - because as I write this post, it has already been confirmed that the coalition which has ruled for 56 years will rule for at least 4 more.

The change I am talking about is in the way we view how we should be governed. And that has been quite a decisive change.

Don't get me wrong: I welcome that change very much. In fact, I can safely say that much of the youth of this great nation share the same view.

We must face the facts, though: it is a dangerous situation we are in.

The build-up of emotions on either side of the political divide over the past few months does not paint the rosiest of pictures of Malaysia for the next few - the danger of those emotions manifesting themselves in physical violence is very real.

The politics that is so much a part of the Malaysian identity - detectable even in our blood, has been "activated" like so many antibodies in response to an infection. And people have gone crazy as the elections have neared. I am just worried that things will get even crazier.

While many may fear that the Government has retained power for too long, or that the Opposition is becoming too strong, many more Malaysians have the immediate fear of harm inflicted on friends and family. I guess I am in that latter category. 

I wonder, as I write this in a hall in the UK, how it is like to be in Malaysia right now...

*                         *                         *

Solace from all this, I have found in an unlikely place: Manchester.

As I sat among a bunch of fellow Malaysian university students today, watching the results of the elections unfold on a big screen in front of us, I couldn't help noticing how calm everything was. 

Of course there was the usual noise and banter accompanying any Malaysian event. But there was no divisive political insults thrown about, despite the fact that the students held wildly differing political views. 

No shouting and name-calling, just a bunch of Malaysians talking politics. Combined with the free teh tarik given out at the back of the room, it was almost like I was back home. The only thing missing was someone making roti canai at the corner of the room.

They represent an emerging breed, those students; a generation of youth very much Malaysian; with as much politics in their blood as their parents and grandparents. But this is a generation not tied too much by sentimental feelings to any political party out there.

It is, for now, a generation which is not afraid of change. A generation with the ability to think independently and rationally, which can stand its ground. But not too emotionally. 

I hope with all my heart that this generation stays this way. 

*                          *                          *

Mark my words.

The next few years and decades will see a change in our society, our political parties, and in our government. It is a change which will be brought about by the politics in our Malaysian blood. 

But the next few days, weeks and months may yet witness the spilling of that very Malaysian blood on our streets. 

The former is inevitable, the latter is not. 

Keep calm, Malaysians. Please.

The above picture was taken at a Malaysian event in Manchester. The room is full, but the front row is still empty. Memang Malaysian.

Disclaimer: The author apologises to any reader who has believed/being convinced of/trusted in the 'scientific facts' stated in the first 5 paragraphs and 1st picture in this post, as they are purely fictional (duhh -.-")

Th author does not, however, apologise for his (albeit sometimes lame) Malaysian sense of humor. It runs in his blood.

I am Me

“Are you proud to be Malay?”

Was the question posed to me during a recent course I attended. It was a straightforward question, for most of the course participants at least. But it was a bit tricky for me.

First of all, how Malay am I? My entire life, my Malay name and Chinese looks means that the two questions asked by a person I’ve just met are usually:

“Nama apa?”

And, at the mention of my Malay name, the next question asked with eyebrows raised in slight astonishment:

“Melayu ye?”

As a kid, I would duly nod my head to the second question. After all, my birth certificate, and later my IC, stated that I am “Melayu”. I didn’t really care, frankly. Rarely did I give my mixed heritage a second thought. I was indifferent to the fact that Mama is Chinese and Papa is Malay. I knew I was unique somehow, but so what? I rarely gave very much thought to it.

Later in life my answer to the second question would be “Melayu + Cina”, and a brief description of my parent’s ethnicity. I always saw myself as that. I was never asked to choose between the two. And I didn’t see any reason too.

Until my first real encounter with racism, which (perhaps ironically) happened during National Service. I remember taking my wudhuk outside the camp surau, and another camp participant telling me (jokingly for him): “Eh, ni bukan tokong la”.

Fortunately, I did not find myself the butt of racist jokes during the camp. Besides several references of “apek”, I found myself mostly accepted by all ethnicities at the camp. I count my blessings for that. But NS was the first time I noticed how bad racism really is. The ‘wiras’ and ‘wirawatis’ (as they called the participants) of the camp would, almost automatically, gravitate to those of the same racial background.

Melayu dengan Melayu. Cina dengan Cina. India dengan India. Yang lain-lain tu (which perhaps included me)…pandai-pandailah.

Unfortunately, I learned later that it was not a problem limited to the boundaries of the NS camp. Going to a college which was >90% Malay, I found that racism, though not extreme (yet), was well and alive even among students deemed the crème de la crème of the country.

It is at this point that I have to say this loud and clear: I am not ashamed of my Cina blood. In the same line, I am not ashamed of my Malay blood either. I just question why people have to be so damn proud of their own race to the point that it leads to hate towards others who look and/or act differently.

I used to be offended by jokes on my Cina-ness. The fact that my left eye is a lazy eye and is thus smaller than my right one (“Sebab separuh Cina la tu”) did not help matters. But I have grown past that. I now play along when Chinese jokes are thrown in my direction – why be ashamed? Besides, the eye infection currently going around my college means that I am no longer the only one with one eye smaller than the other (thank you to my roommate, Boiler, for starting off the infection) :p

I am no longer offended by jokes about my Cina-ness. I am, however, offended at jokes or statements aimed at harping on the flaws of the Chinese – to demonise them. I will always try to speak out against that. For that matter, I will also speak out against things said against the Malays if I get a chance to study overseas.

After all is said and done, my search for identity was, in the end, resolved in this college – and for that I will forever be grateful. I did not find my identity in my Melayu-ness, or my Cina-ness, as I always thought I would.

I found it in Islam. A religion I was born in, but perhaps never really lived before entering this college. I have found acceptance – brotherhood – among Muslims. Alhamdulillah.

Perhaps the question at the start of this post merely caught me off guard when I was asked. In retrospect, the question was good for me. It pushed me to decide between being Malay or not. And it made me realize that I have made that decision long ago.

Am I Melayu or Cina? I am neither and I am both. I am Malaysian. I am Muslim.

And most importantly, I am me.

Deal with it.

Fact: Mixed kids are cute :ppp