Does my Country Love me ?

Do I love Malaysia ?


My late father retired from the Civil Service in 1989, on his retirement date his last drawn salary was RM1500.00. Not exactly a princely sum in 1989. He has long been passed-over for new appointments and promotions in favour of his younger and, of course Bumiputera colleagues.

The following year, I was accepted into a local University, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore and the Australian National University based on my STPM and GCE English 1119 ‘O’ Levels results.

It was an obvious decision for me, albeit a financial one. I would go to the local one for my degree

For a full 4 years, I have applied for every Government (JPA) and Perak State scholarship available. Not a single one came back with any response. Had my father’s service to the Government been in vain ? Whilst, every single Bumiputera student in around me had their education financed fully, if not one but with multiple scholarships.

My parents, especially my father, had to scrimp and save to put me through tertiary education. My father literally was still working, through the years he was fighting prostate cancer and till the eve of his death.

To add salt to injury, my tertiary education was literally sub-standard. Some of my lecturers were notably outstanding and these were the ones who had inspired me academically. Predominantly, it was a full 4 years of one uninspiring lecturer after another. Some of the Professors could not converse in English, lectures were conducted, rather regurgitated in a mixture of half-baked translatation of Bahasa Malaysia and basic English. To me, the saving grace for this particular university was its excellent library facilities and almost unrivalled collection of books and scientific journals. Predominantly written in the English language.

In my flailing effort to maintain a sense of dignity through these conditions, I quickly immersed myself in the collection of within the library, pushing myself way ahead of what the university lectures and the official curriculum had to offer. It was not a matter of graduating anymore, it has grown into a personal vendetta of the little man to maintain the dignity and sacrifices of his parents and the values his La Sallian teachers have imparted to him.

In this month of August as we celebrate our 49th Merdeka Day, I asked myself. “Do I love Malaysia ?” The answer is a resounding “Yes, I do.” I had to, as it is who I am. To not love the country of my birth and my parents’ ; would be a disgrace to my parents and to everyone who have made me who I am.

Today, 12 years on, by the Grace of God, my family and I are happily settled in the United States and gainfully employed. I have long left Malaysian shores in the hope my children will not have to stoop as low as his father and grandfather did.

To Rose (http://www.malaysiakini.com/letters/55450), you have no idea what Dignity really is. Treasure what you have, for such artificial accord of Dignity is s indeed heaven sent.

To Dignified (http://www.malaysiakini.com/letters/55657), I sympathise and feel for you; you and I are not alone, millions of our non-Bumiputra brethren’s through 2 generations share your pain and your quest for human dignity.

As a closing note, I ask myself, “Does my country love me ?”