Malaysia: A Nation In Waiting?

All great nations grow from hard lessons in history.

I attended a talk on the NEP recently, organized by Youth for Change (Y4C) which hosted 2 panelists - the economic historian Dr Lim Teck Ghee and the Parti Keadilan Rakyat treasurer, Tan Sri Khalid Ibrahim.

As I observed the dynamics between the speakers, the discussants and the (generally urban, middle-class and above and educated) audience within the Bar Council Auditorium - it occured to me just how far away we are, from being a nation, despite being an independent country, for almost 50 years.

It seems like the races in Malaysia are constantly talking at each other, than to each other.

And my conclusion remains the same: no lesson will be learnt and no progress will be made via rational dialogue and persuasion here - because there is still so much social distrust between the races and many differing orientations and interpretations of what this country should be, by so many.

And everyone - be they liberal, conservative, religious fanatic or insular racial bigot - think that they have the correct perspective of what this country should be. And unfortunately, almost everyone communicates it in an insensitive way that's corrosive to the trust that they need to build with each other - in order to move forward.

Perhaps, it's too difficult to come to a singular aim, definition or perspective - whatever you may say about Vision 2020 - hardly anyone is walking the talk. And sometimes, even those who talk about national unity - hardly realize that their actions are corroding the trust between the races - a necessary ingredient in racial integration.

Perhaps, the only way that Malaysians will learn to narrow down the perimeters and at least, not to tear apart from each other, is if we to pay the consequences for our denial and apathy or maybe, some of our unreasonable demands and resistance to change.

The hard lesson that Malaysia will learn will not be catalysed by greater inter-racial understanding - it will be catalysed by an economic regression, led by the loss of Malaysia's growth and competitiveness in a globalized world.

When the majority of Malaysians will come to understand that we are being surpassed and left behind by many other advancing and maturing developing countries and that the Government is truly incapable of keeping at bay, the dogs of poverty, political corruption, rising living costs and inflation - perhaps then, the pride of our leaders will pave the way for a fundamental rethink and the necessary courage to lead all Malaysians (and Malaysia) into a new direction.

A direction that shows us that the competition is not between us here, in Malaysia - it's with the rest of the world, out there. There is no merit in fighting over the crumbs of shrinking domestic wealth between the races, in today's globalized world. The true measure of wealth, economic progress and competitiveness is out there, not in Malaysia.

Although it will be a sad day indeed, if what it takes for Malaysians to be race-blind and to begin thinking as nation - is for all of us, to be inadvertantly driven to be equally economically poor, as one another.

There is no point in being equal, at the cost of our collective detriment, in the long run. There is absolutely no virtue in being equally poor, in an economically regressive country.

But that's probably what it takes for change to happen in a country, where the leaders and its people are in constant denial and hanging on to a worldview that was shaped to correct past historical injustices - you have to pay the ultimate price, before you choose to wake up to the unforgiving reality, before us.

History rarely rewards countries with good intentions alone, but is politically immature, culturally tolerant of corruption, administratively paralysed and gradually becoming economically regressive.

When you keep your eyes firmly on the past, you are bound to trip and fall in your march to the future. Maybe if your leg starts bleeding, you will learn to keep your view strictly on the path, in front of you.

Whatever you do, my advice is - don't keep all your eggs in one basket.

Malaysia (and the majority of Malaysians) will willy-nilly take its time to learn this lesson - but most of us whom already know what's coming - should not. Prepare yourself for a soft landing and save your families.

And when the time and realization comes and the necessary lessons have been learnt the hard way - come help Malaysia rebuild again, on correct, better and stronger foundations, in forging a Malaysian nation that has the capacity to move forward - together.

Patchwork: Step-Families In Motion/Regrets over Bapak

Stepmother. Stepfather. Step-siblings. All these words conjure up different images and feelings in different people.

Many families have never experienced it. Many have and the stories are bound not to be the same. They are as diverse as the range and complexity of human behaviour itself.

Children's fairy tales have, fairly or unfairly, damaged the perception of stepmothers - no thanks to Cinderella and Snow White, especially. Many Malay movies make stepmothers seem like scheming women that hates her stepchildren and is out to clean out the family fortune. Some movies have made out stepfathers to be mad men, capable of not only harming the family members, but also the general public.

What is it about step-families that makes societal perception (and sometimes, our own reactions) less than neutral towards it?

Maybe, it's the belief or generalization that someone who is not blood-related to the children could never care for them, as much as the real parents do (although there are ample examples, where this is patently untrue)

Maybe because in the hearts of children and young adults (or sometimes, old ones for that matter), there is only a place for one set of parents - their natural father and mother - and everyone else is an inevitable addition that "they have to tolerate".

And this social recognition (which affects the degree of closeness in relationships) exceeds all situational circumstances - assuming that no utter parental neglect happens, the ties survive the damage and wreckage of broken families - and sometimes, even the death of one parent.


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Something happened a few days ago, that made me reflect really hard on how badly I had treated my own stepfather, Bapak - in my younger days.

His marriage to my mother (5 years after my late father had passed away) I felt, was intrusive. It didn't help that my late Mum did not handle the situation very delicately.

It started out horribly enough.

I got to know that they were getting married from a close and respected family friend of my mother's - about a month before they actually did. They had been dating for 6 months (a period which in which I'd noticed that Mum was noticeably happier, though more frequently absent from the house). I had met him a total of 3 times, before they were married.

Through a bit of divine intervention in a dream which involved my late father in it - I reluctantly allowed my mother to marry this stranger. I remember the chronic fear I had of losing any residual attention that I had left, from her - Mum and I were never close and she never displayed any affection, so I found myself chasing her attention - in both good and bad ways.

Having good grades helped. And being a rebel helped, too - by the time I was 15, I fought for a life without a curfew. She relented, unable to contain my anger, resentment and rebellion at her marriage.

Even though it had been 5 years since my late father had passed away, I still felt that it was too soon to leave his memory behind. I felt that the whole family seems to have obliviously moved on - as I spent almost every weekend for 5 years, visiting his grave and holding the memory of his life, intact.

But let's get back to Bapak - my stepfather.

I hardly spoke to him in the first 2 years and I didn't give him any respect, unless it was openly demanded by my mother, from time to time. It wasn't until he came to watch the first (and only) under-18 bowling tournament which I won in November 1989 - did I appreciate him enough, to give him his due respect. (Note: He was the only family member that ever attended any of my prize-givings and there were many, believe me)

But I still strongly withheld my affection - and that was strange - considering that I grew up on the love of friends and strangers.

Thereafter, I was at best - respectful and cordial to Bapak. But I still found myself mentioning my late father, frequently - as if to remind him that although he may be my mother's husband, but there was no space for an alternative father figure in my life. And that he would never be good enough a substitute - and I signalled from my reactions, that he should not even try.

My late father was an immortal in my mind - perfect and untouchable. He passed on, before he could make any mistakes which would make him seem less than superhuman, in my eyes - and as I later found out, after my Mum's passing - she had kept the image I had of my father in my mind, unblemished - despite the truth.

Up until I was in my mid-20's, I had, consciously or unconsciously, still introduced Bapak to my friends, as "my stepfather". I'm sure that I knew that this would hurt him, but I just felt that it was the right and "truthful" thing to do. I was not his son and I didn't want anyone to forget the great man, my father was.

But Bapak is an examplary man.

He was a gentleman and kind-natured, he had a good sense of humour, he cooked, he did his own laundry, he was disciplined and athletic for his age, he worked hard, he read widely, he was an avid golfer, he cut a rather handsome figure (my Mum had excellent taste in men) and most of all, he never let his ego get in the way of loving my mother, wholeheartedly. Whatever the emotional cost - he was willing to absorb it quietly.

He adored her - as difficult as she was and could be.

He moved in into the family house my father built, after his marriage to Mum - even though he had his own bungalow in Shah Alam and even though he knew that certain sections of Malay society would frown at my mother calling the shots on where to stay. Apparently, it was one of the pre-conditions of their marriage and he sacrificed his ego, in order to be with her.

And most of all - he had to tolerate me, all throughout those years.

My own marriage (and eventual long-awaited maturity) changed all that. I felt that it was a good starting point to start afresh with my own family. I started kissing his hand out of love, more than respect and I introduced him, without flinching, as "my father". I remember the first time I said that to a friend - he seemed visibly moved. I remember apologizing to him, for all the things I had put him through, over the years - drowning in remorse.

The years of my marriage and divorce, the year when we weathered Mum's cancer, brought us far closer. His love for her, knew no bounds - she was lucky to have him.

And yes, now - even though he's not in touch anymore after his recent marriage to his new wife - I still think of him as my father - the second father, I was blessed to have.

On hindsight - I wish I had matured earlier, to appreciate the love he had to give. My insecurities over my mother's attention and of people forgetting my late father - for a long time, it clouded my judgement, over the blessing that was at my disposal.

And yes, that comes with much regret. Regret, at the way I treated him. Regret, over the many "lost years". Regret over possibilities that were never attempted.

Regret, that's a little too late.

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Step-families are not perfect and usually, more than slightly uncomfortable. It's a patchwork - sometimes, you cover the gaps that are there and all things turn out well.

But sometimes, it's an awkward and painful "paste-over" - you're trying to fill gaps, where there are none - where the real parents to your stepchildren are still alive. Or worse, like in my case - dead and immortalized in memory.

You will always be a stranger outside of the family, even if you're a close one. The door to "being family", is acceptance of what is given and the space which they allow you to be what you'd like to be. And this will take time, depending on the circumstances.

Children and teenagers don't always manage this well - and who can blame them, really? It's too hard to make sense of the how's and why's of wilful adults, sometimes. And hence, they react from the place they know best - from their heart. It's honest and unconflicted - it's the last and only place where they can be, who they need to be.

Would I have the strength to go through what Bapak did? And go through the equivalent of me, when I was younger?

I honestly don't know. I know that I don't relish the thought of facing such a rejection. And maybe what I need as a parent, exceeds what I would accept as a husband.

I don't know. But I know this - if I could take back all the mean things I had said and done to Bapak in the past, I definitely would. Twice over.

Freud, Family and A Misplaced Sense of Obligation

I think it was Freud that once said that "All happy families are the same, every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way".

Something made me reflect on this statement last night. For most of us, family is the place within which the foundations of our self-esteem (and self-acceptance) are built on. "The child is the father of the man" I think Freud also used to say.

It would not be an over-statement to say that much of what happens to us in childhood, defines who we are as adults and the role we play in future relationships.

And unless we have the opportunity to come to terms with some of these issues that plague us from childhood - it remains as part of our psyche and shapes our outlook, our reactions and our sense of right and wrong.

Some of us get to deal with it and it makes them stronger people - although to some, it may seem that they're emotionally colder.

Some of us never find the opportunity, strength or conscience to deal with it and live with it - eternally emotionally hobbed by the scars of having to be premature adults, due to family elders that probably always tried their best but were never strong enough, to be good enough.

Freud was right - every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. We play the cards that we are dealt with in life.

There is no one rule for right and wrong, when it comes to family - perhaps, the closest one that we can find, is when the lines of right and wrong, of what is proper and improper, are blurred - due to the love (and sometimes, an overriding sense of obligation)that we feel for our loved ones.


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There are a few truisms that I have personally discovered in my short 33-year journey in life.

One is, if you have great idealistic expectations of family members who have never tried half as hard as you have, to do what's right - you will be severely disappointed.

Secondly, when you are disappointed with how much they have fallen short of your expectations - forgive them for the people they are, but stop yourself from being the self-appointed martyr that tries to make all things right.

For you will eventually die, but without the due recognition that martyrs deserve for their efforts. Most of the time, you will simply be misunderstood and regarded as "the odd one" fighting the tide in the family and simply not street-smart enough to be sufficiently selfish and to pass the buck.

Thirdly, whatever your good intentions in compensating for the deficiencies of family members and loved ones - don't let yourself become bitter about it and don't lose perspective and the "big picture" of how it affects you (and possibly, other people unrelated to your family) in the future.

You risk being unfair to the people you love and care about - and you risk being unfair to yourself too, in the long run.

You risk not understanding yourself sufficiently (if you don't think hard enough about who you are and who you can be) and you seem to roll on, from one mistake to the next, in an endless vicious cycle of being victimized - or sometimes, by force of habit - self-victimization.

Consciously or unsconsciously, our fears and expectations get carried on to the next generation - seeding their own set of fears and expectations. It's funny how as parents, we love to take the credit for the success of our children - but never or hardly take the blame for their shortcomings - or sometimes, even our own.

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I'd like to think that in my life, I've managed to escape many of the horrible things that my family have (deliberately or indeliberately) tried to impose on me - albeit with good intentions.

Much of this escape, I owe to the kindness of friends and strangers - people whom I have met along the way and who deemed me worthy of their love and respect, as I was growing up.

I dare say that whatever dose of healthy self-esteem that I have, came on the shoulders and hugs of lovers, friends and strangers - and not family. Of course, I could spend time mulling over that - but I choose to be grateful instead, for the kindness of others.

But there were two things that I did not manage to escape from - first, the self-imposed obligation I felt to marry the sort of girl that Mum expected me to and secondly, the self-imposed need I felt to play my "role" as a respectful younger brother who would have to sacrifice his own interests, to honour and fulfill his obligations to his elders and other family members.

I've carried both of these obligations since I was much younger in life - due to earlier grief, circumstances and expectations that had nothing to do with me - but which I felt was my due, to compensate for any shortfall.

It became my ordained "role" in this family - I began to believe, that as the family member who had more clarity and a stronger sense of obligation - that this was the part I was meant to play - this was why, I was born into this particular family. It became my "self-image" in the family - the kid that makes up for everyone else's shortfall to keep Mum (and sometimes, not very intelligent elder siblings) happy.

And both these self-imposed familial obligations have probably brought about the 2 biggest regrets and outcomes in my life. I've had to learn the lessons the hard way - it has previously brought about a divorce and my mother's broken heart, a near financial ruin and the almost-severing of ties, with one of my siblings.

It was a heavy price to pay, not only for myself - but for so many others that I've loved and cared for.

And some of them are purely innocent parties - but have had the tragedy of having to witness and experience first-hand the trauma and ugliness of the people I call, family members. I remember my ex-wife once exasperatedly asking: "What's wrong with your family?" - a question which I had no answers to. You can't choose your parents or your siblings.

Yes, I know better now - but then, for the sake of all who have been hurt - I wish I had known sooner and without having had to make some of the huge mistakes that I did.

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There's an old Malay saying: "Buat baik berpada-pada, buat jahat jangan sekali".


And nowhere is the context more true, I feel, than those who are trying to compensate for the handicap and deficiencies of a family unit.

It is best to know one's limit in "compensating", lest one compromises one's own sanity and good judgement. The real measure of love, is to first do no harm or evil, whether consciously or unconsciously.

When you've grown up in a complex family where adults are not quite the adults they're supposed to be and where you're trying to play the adult that they should be - you have to be extra-resilient and possess a strong mental and emotional clarity to survive - and to avoid side-effects on your character.

Or believe me - in the long-run, it will break you as a person. And others who depend on you, like your children. Or worse still, it will impair your sense of judgement on on issues and your general perspective of the world.

No one or nothing will ever seem good enough to you - because sometimes, we expect the river of kindness from souls, who are as dry as the desert. And what's worse, you will miss out on the many great things and people in life - people with values more aligned to your own and who can provide the things that you seek, in abundance.

God is ultimately fair - but the proportions of His fairness are never provided in quite the same way, as we mere mortals would perceive it.

Take a wider look at all His blessings and you will realize that even if you can't choose who your family members are - but sometimes, you are blessed with enough faculties and opportunities, to excel in life and love and to do what you need to do with family members - if you can find the strength for it.

But if you don't find the strength to overcome it, in measured balance - have no doubt that it will plague and destroy many of the good things that come your way, in your life. Where you can only accept the love you have to fight (fairly or unfairly) for and never the love that you deserve.

It will make you bitter and it will draw up in your mind, the unfairness of Life. Sooner or later, it may drown out any sense of gratefulness you may have - leaving you jaded, albeit in a half-blessed environment.

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For some of you reading this - you may be able to relate, perhaps due to your own unique circumstances in your family. And my advice to you is the same: "Buat baik berpada-pada, buat jahat jangan sekali"


Have the good intentions - any child or sibling should.

But don't always be the one to pick up on the crumbs and failings of other family members - sometimes, the only way to be a true adult is to turn others into adults and not to be a permanent crutch to their self-imposed handicap and deficiencies.

Sometimes, the only way to protect them from themselves - is to let them feel the full force and consequence of their actions.

People can only change through awareness, mistakes and adversity - depriving them of that shifts the shared responsibility of doing what's right, from them to you. Realize that in the general scheme of things - people are not born noble and just, even if they are blood-related to you.

Outward professions of familial love mean nothing, unless family members can shoulder their responsibilities as adults, when they're supposed to. Blood may be thicker than water, but good character and values, are much purer and stronger than blood. After all, the sincerity of love is not defined by family lines and boundaries.

Good luck to all of you and your families. Yes, you're right - you were meant to be here - but what you choose to do, is your choice and yours alone. And believe me, as difficult as it may seem - there is always a choice, even if they be hard ones or the ones that you can't yet open your heart and mind to.

But eventually, you must confront the problem, or it will confront you - perhaps, with far more damaging consequences. Bad families are like dread diseases like cancer and heart disease - you can't cure it on painkillers, alone.