It was storming the day Swee Lin took her brother to the orphanage. She half carried, half walked the little boy along the sloshing wet streets beneath a tattered umbrella, and was afraid for his well-being. The Director of Starlight Home was a little surprised: �Why did you choose such a day?� Swee Lin replied that she was anxious lest someone else took her brother�s place. �He can come in can�t he?� she asked in a moment of panic. To her relief, the Director nodded.
Then it was time to say goodbye to little Alex. In her nightmares, she had always imagined an impossibly poignant moment of crying and clutching, but the four-year old took one look at the playroom full of toys and other kids and ran into the thick of it. Swee Lin�s relief was mingled with a certain disappointment. �Will you take some tea?� the Director asked kindly but she was filled with too much sadness to accept. She walked home slowly, letting the rain hide her tears.
A few days later, she kneeled sobbing at the grave of her parents. �Pa, Ma, forgive me for Alex. The six months since the accident, I dropped out of school to look for work, I searched everywhere for something that would keep us together.� She had, indeed, spare no effort, written countless letters, but all to no avail for the recession had hit hard in the year 2018, and the Chinese were the hardest hit of all. There had been no financial aid from the government for those who had lost their means of support in the tragic bus crash; she had contacted the banks for a small business loan only to be shown the door; she had tried unsuccessfully to interest publishers with her greeting cards design only to be laughed at; and she had called upon anyone she could remotely call a relative, with rebuff after rebuff for the times were hard. But the worst insult had been when she contacted her local MCA parliamentarian for assistance. After she had explained her plight to the grossly overweight man, he had only this to say: �Well, you�re old enough to walk the streets aren�t you?� Swee Lin had got up instantly to go and, at home had shed tears of pure humiliation. As a joke that wasn�t even funny but she had the feeling that he had not been joking. And she was so unhappy she thought she might as well be dead. Oh, to be a tree or rock or beetle, anything but a human being!
Now, with her parents� meagre savings exhausted, she had but one respectable choice. On a day when the sky was cloudy and the wind tore leaves from trees, she packed her worldly possessions into two bags, left the keys of the tiny house with a neighbour for the landlord, and strode out into a new life. She took the bus as far as it would go to that part of town, then walked the remaining distance through roads lined with well-kept trees and the mansions of the rich. Stopping at a black-and-gold ornamental gate, she rang the doorbell, whereupon, a middle-aged man in singlet and black shorts let her in after she had explained her business. She was left standing outside the house while the man went in calling, �Datin Chok! Datin Chok! Your new maid has arrived.�
A long-faced woman with a heavy jaw and hard, unsmiling mouth appeared in the doorway. �So you�ve come,� she said without greeting.
�Good morning Datin Chok,� Swee Lin said in a small voice, feeling that she would never ever feel relaxed in the presence of this woman. �I�ve come to start today.�
�In that case, Ah Kow can take you round the back to your room. He�ll tell you what to do first.�
The room she was assigned to was hardly larger than a large cupboard. It was impossible to believe that in this palatial house, there could not be a more generous room, even for a maid. Neither was it possible to believe that Datin Chok could afford only one maid, and Swee Lin was soon to find that her tasks were not light. She was kept busy from dawn to dusk, cleaning, laundering, ironing and cooking. Her mistress was always sharply critical, and not adverse to slapping the young maid now and then for the slightest infringements of the household rules. Datin Chok had made it a condition of her employment that she did not bring in her little brother; on the other hand, her pittance of a salary did not enable her to pay someone to look after Alex. How could one Chinese be so mean to another? Swee Lin often wondered. Well, you could if you were the wife of an MCA Central Committee member, she reasoned. She seldom saw Datuk Chok, a bald, corpulent man who looked at her with distaste as one would observe a particularly loathsome insect.
By day, the hard work was a comfort if only to keep away the thoughts. Lying in bed, however, in the dim gloom of her cupboard-room, she would be assailed by a mishmash of the deepest regrets: Alex in the Starlight Home oh, did he cry, was he happy, did he miss her? Her poor dead parents, the life they had lived before the tragedy, playing with Alex, the dinners they had had beneath the yellow, homely glow of lamps. She remembered how her father, while never complaining about his own lot, would bemoan the circumstances of the Chinese under Barisan Nasional, and how much better life had been for the community twenty years ago. Swee Lin knew that he was worried about her further education � places in the local universities were scarce for non-Malays, scholarships non-existent, while the local twinning colleges and overseas universities were well beyond his financial reach. �After fifty years since the idea was first mooted, they still won�t let us build a Chinese university,� he sighed.
This was also a favourite theme of Ah Kow, the handyman who did the gardening and the shopping and who had first shown her into the house. Dressed perpetually in singlet and black shorts, his weather-beaten face was always kind. �How old are you little sister?� he would ask. �Ai yoh! Only eighteen, and such a hard life.� He often made her little presents of food: a chocolate bar, a apple or a pork dumpling. When Datin Chok was out visiting, she would often steal a little time with Ah Kow in the filtered sunlight of the large rain tree in the garden and hear him talk:
�Ai yah! Little sister. We Chinese are really stupid you know why? Because we put our faith in puppet leaders like the MCA. We would never be so bad if we didn�t support the wrong party. You know why? I tell you.�
Ah Kow told her how the Chinese were much, much better off in the last century. True, there was the NEP, but it didn�t stop many Chinese from progressing through hard work. According to Ah Kow, things didn�t start to get bad until after the 1999 elections. He remembered it as though it was only yesterday: the fiercely fought contest, the complex struggle, the dirtiest ever election campaign. The Prime Minister at that time was Mahathir, a corrupt, lying, hypocritical leader. He had sacked Anwar Ibrahim, his DPM, on trumped-up charges of corruption and sodomy, had the poor fellow thrown into prison, beaten up, dragged through a kangaroo court and jailed for sixteen years. He had used every instrument of state to further this conspiracy: the mass media, the attorney general, the police and the judiciary. But the people were not fooled; instead, they were shocked by this display of utter blackness at the heart of government.
�So Barisan Alternatif was born, including the DAP and three other parties to oppose Barisan Nasional. Now, the Anwar Ibrahim issue has split the Malay vote, so Mahathir had to get the support of the Chinese. He was desperate for our votes to stay in power.�
The Chinese were at the cross-roads. Never had their votes counted so much, although they formed only 30% of the population. If they voted DAP, they could help topple Mahathir and allow a new government to form; but if they fell in behind MCA, they would ensure the continuity of BN. In the end, Mahathir used the local media to scare them into voting for him. He exploited the Chinese fear of riots and fear of an Islamic state to win big. And the DAP was finished. They didn�t even get one seat in Parliament, not even for their leader, Lim Kit Siang.
After the elections, Mahathir made sure that the DAP never recovered while, on the other hand, he rewarded the MCA leaders with billions in shady deals. They did not serve the community, only themselves, but BN made sure that they always got re-elected from Malay majority safe seats. It was a way to control an entire community using puppet leaders. So the Chinese were deprived of a voice, they lacked real representation in the government. Next, to win back the Malay ground that he had lost because of the Anwar crisis, Mahathir began to make the NEP even tougher for the Chinese. Their banks were taken over by Malay interests, they found it extremely difficult to get loans, TAR College was closed, and there were even fewer places in the local universities for them. The Chinese became poorer. After Mahathir�s death, subsequent Prime Ministers strengthened the system.
�So you see, little sister,� said Ah Kow sadly. �In 1999, we backed the wrong horse while we still had the freedom to choose. But we were too frightened of change. And we got no roses for supporting Mahathir, only sharp thorns.�
Swee Lin began to look at Datuk and Datin Chok not with fear, but with loathing. They had got titles and riches for betraying their community. She was ashamed to be working for them and, more often than not, did her duties carelessly despite the abuse, pinches, slaps, and beatings she received from her mistress. If there were somewhere else to go, she would have gladly left but, like Ah Kow, her opportunities were limited. On the other hand, Datin Chok never lost an opportunity to remind her how lucky she was to have a job, and in such a fine house too. But she spent as much time as she could talking with Ah Kow beneath the rain tree and they were consolation for each other. A year slipped away.
�It�s election time again, little sister,� Ah Kow told her one day. �Will the Chinese dare vote DAP? Any electorate that goes to DAP will be punished. They will close the schools, pull tolls on the roads, reduce the water supply, change the public transport so that the area is not served. Also, every election, they talk of riots to frighten us, in fact, they threaten us with riots.�
�It�s not fair,� replied Swee Lin. �I hope God will let me do something for my community one day, even to risk this useless life of mine.� But she was only poor little Swee Lin. However, she began to keep a close ear on the talk in the house.
A week before polling day, as she was dusting the sitting room, she saw through the window, Datuk Chok coming in with persons she recognised as the President of the MCA and other Central Committee members. Instead of running off into the further reaches of the house, she slipped behind the long drapes on one side of the window.
She heard them enter and seat themselves. She heard Datin Chok come
in full of obsequious greetings, and she heard her mistress call out to
her several times to bring out the drinks, but she did not stir. Then they
got down to business. The President said he had a very important matter
to discuss. With their agreement, he would take it to the Prime Minister.
�As you know, we are a bit worried about the DAP in this elections,�
he said. �The mood from the ground is that they could be making large gains,
in fact, very large gains. However much we smear them in the local papers,
it seems that Chinese are fed-up enough to risk voting the DAP this time.
And the recession is not helping us.�
He paused to let the import of it sink into the silence. Then he continued: �But we can stop them, using a weapon called fear. In nearly all elections, we have brought up the May 13 riots but it�s not very effective any more. After all, May 13 happened fifty years ago. How much longer can we flog a dead horse. Now, what we need is a fresh incident.�
He had come up with the idea, he said, to create a fresh incident with the help of UMNO supporters. A group of loyal Malays would be rounded up and given instructions and weapons. They would go into a Chinese area with their weapons. The number of casualties would not be many, maybe thiry or forty, but it would work wonders for their election chances. �So, what do you think boys?�
They were silent for a while. Then Swee Lin heard Datuk Chok say: �It�s not a bad idea provided it�s well organised and provided the truth is hidden. We can get the local media to play it up.�
To Swee Lin�s utter horror, one by one, they gave their endorsement. Only one member appeared to have reservations. �We are Chinese, how can we condone the killing of Chinese? This is unethical.� But he was talked down. Datuk Chok told him the end always justified the means. Another commented that it was only thirty or forty lives and that far more Chinese died on the roads every day.
Swee Lin heard no more; she was lost in anger and her heart was beating so. As soon as they had departed, she crept out from her hiding place and out of the house, running for the gate. �Where are you going, little sister,� Ah Kow who was sitting beneath the rain tree called after her but she had no time for him. She ran down the road for the nearest police station.
It was quite some distance away and she was huffing by the time she got there. After giving herself a few minutes to calm down, she entered and asked to see a senior officer for she had something very important to report.
The officer who attended her was very kind, taking her into a private room to hear her story. He called coffee for her and appeared shocked as he made notes and gently asked her several questions. Then, saying that he would make a call, he disappeared. When he returned, he told her that he had arranged for two important persons to come in and listen first hand to her. He hoped she would not be intimated by them. Was she hungry? He would have food brought in if so. She shook her head and was left alone. After some ten minutes, he re-appeared, saying that the visitors were waiting in another room.
He took her down the corridor to a room at the end, opened the door for her and slammed it shut behind her. The room was dim and it took some seconds for her eyes to adjust. She saw: a man and a woman sitting at the other end and, recognising them screamed in horror. She scratched at the door, but it was locked. Datuk and Datin Chok advanced slowly towards her, grinning maliciously. She felt the blows all over her body, the slaps, punches and kicks delivered without the least bit of human compassion, but, as she fell to the floor, she remembered what she had said to Ah Kow in the dappled shade beneath the rain tree.
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