May Elections

Tomorrow Malaysians will be casting their votes in what was dubbed as the most hotly contested election since 1969.

This morning my daughter forwarded websites sent by Malaysian friends alleging that planeloads of foreigners have been flown in by the ruling party probably as phantom voters in what is suspected to be a rigged election. I just hope no unrest will happen in what the opposition terms as "the Malaysian Spring".

May 1969, 14 years ago I lived through the fears and  "excitement"(in the world of a child) of the racial riots that rocked KL. Though our parents were Singaporeans and were not involved in voting, they shared the jubilance of their Malaysian Chinese workmen who voted for the Chinese Opposition (I think it was the DAP which had gained considerable seats) in the May election.

As we lived in the heart of the city, I remembered hearing loud speakers from lorries blaring cries of victory. The next thing we knew was fear and panic. 2 of our workmen actually lived in kampongs in the midst of Malays. So we heard of fearful killings. A curfew was implemented not without a semblance of happiness greeted by the children "No School". We heard of Malays setting fire to the kampong houses of Chinese occupants. As the occupants fled their burning houses the soldiers/police (mainly Malays) shot them for not observing the curfew rules. Needless to say all that we heard was from the side of Chinese.

 One evening a friend of mine, living a few doors away from us, braved the short distance of 10 meters in the open street to pass a message of great importance. You see, my family lived on the 3rd floor of a row of 3 storey flats. My friend lived on one of the ground floor flats with a small garden, which the balconies of the 2nd and 3rd floor flats overlooked onto. The grave message her parents asked her to deliver was information that busloads of Malays armed with parangs were descending on the town area. As neighbours we got to be united. Those staying on the upper floors must equip themselves with boiling water, choppers, knives and whatever we could think of to throw down on any attackers. We were also given a tip that hanging a large piece of pork on your doorway would help to hinder entry.

That night my mother entrusted me with a most important task, almost matching an imperial mission in a family context. Should any rioters forced their way into our flat, I must immediately bring my younger brother out from the backdoor, climb the spiral staircase onto the roof and hide behind the low wall separating the roof terrace and the steep roof.  If we were to lie flat behind the wall no one would be able to spot us. All these while the adults and bigger siblings fought the enemy. I slept very lightly and woke up in the middle of the night to find my younger brother sleeping next to me with his school shoes on. Haha he was even more prepared than me!

The incident had its funny moments too. The ground floor flat at the end of our row was occupied by the workers of a chain of up market grocery that imported foreign food products. The store  was owned by a rich Indian family. They used the flat to house their workers as well as a store for their imported stuff. There being a curfew and food stuff running low at Chinese groceries which were also a distance away, many families ordered food stuff from this high end grocery. I remembered my mum crying in horror at the bill. I recalled vividly an order for garlic came in the form of a nice bottle of small cloves of garlic floating in some juice, imported from UK. So much for solidarity against the enemy.

Recalling these memories made me google to have a more objective view of what actually took place. Apparently the victorious opposition went overboard riling at the Malays that supported the ruling party thus fueling their wrath. That event changed the path of many, not the least my family. My elder sister who was a relief teacher then had applied for Malaysian citizenship to gain entry to the teachers training college. After the incident she made an abrupt decision to return to Singapore after spending more than 10 years in KL. All her younger siblings followed suit gradually. Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like for me if we had stayed on. I have no doubt materialistically we are better off moving to Singapore, but then again what would life have been like if we had stayed on, I still wonder.

Let us hope tomorrow's election will be peaceful and wouldn't turn out as a nightmare for any child.