A kidnapping incident and the power of caring

A facebook note that has been shared a couple of thousand times a few days back caught my eye and arrested my attention. It was yet another kidnapping incident in Malaysia. Fortunately, the victim had a narrow escape. Her courage and quick thinking allowed her to live another day and stand as witness to Malaysia's tragic state of affairs. Her testimony stirred the hearts of many Malaysians. The people's emotions were evoked. Many teared at the story of her close encounter. Many cried, imagining that it could be them, their sister, daughter or mother in her shoes instead. But above all, many people cried for their country they were born and raised in - and what it has became of it.

Back in the 1980s and 90s, we could hop on our bicycles, pedal to the local park, unchaperoned by our parents to hang out with the neighborhood gang. I remember the ice cream man with his bicycle would always swing by. We anticipated his arrival by the familiar ice cream song coming out of his speakers. When I was older, I would walk my dog to the park and together we would watch my brother play soccer. My brother always asked me to remove the dog because my dog's excited state watching the ball being kicked around, would scare the other kids. My dog, being a retriever, loved to retrieved balls. Naturally, he was excited.

It was hard to say when the crowds in the playgrounds dwindled to a mere trickle. The decline was gradual, like the change in seasons. I don’t just blame the technology. If I were the parents, I would rather my children inside, with their eyes glued to the telly and risking diabetes, rather than risking abduction and rape, when unaccompanied out in the playgrounds. Unfortunately, this is the country's current state of affairs.

Malaysia has hit the heartbreaking point where violent crime has almost become a passing, unremarkable story in the daily newspaper. Every month, a new case is reported – missing child, girl raped, man slashed by a machete. These days, I cannot walk the streets where I'm not  vigilantly inspecting my surroundings. A foreigner might mistakenly admire my curiosity of the world I'm living in. But in reality,  I'm on the alert for the low bass hums  from the exhaust of a motorcycle; On the lookout for a potential white van; A group of shady looking men; Or these days, even an old, fragile woman. I ensure that my car is parked near the entrance door when in the basement of a shopping center or, at least not in a dimly lit area. I do not sling a bag across my shoulders, lest a thief on a motorcycle grabs the bag, and me, along with the bag. When I dish out safety advice to my foreign female friends, they think I'm exaggerating the danger and I'm being overly cautious.

But one can never be too cautious in Malaysia. In the past decade, I've had a close shave with a snatch thief on a motorcycle. Fortunately, I also had a narrow escape. My mother was held at knife point, bag and wallet stolen and subsequently pushed into a deep drain. Her ankle was broken and was on crutches for three months. My adjacent neighbour's grandpa's pants pocket was professionally and swiftly slashed by a machete, not-so-coincidentally revealing a thick wad of cash. They trailed his car all the way from the bank. It was the Chinese new year festival. The cash was to be inserted into red packets for his grandchildren. Instead, it landed in the hands of unscrupulous monsters. My house was broken into a few months ago. The entire house was ransacked and most things of value were stolen. My father said break-ins are bound to happen, sooner or later and we were lucky that no one was home at that time. I agree and like how he views a situation with a glass half full. On the flip side, it's sad, that we have resorted to toasting our champagne glasses despite the huge damage done and consider the lack of physical harm, good luck.

 And these are just a few stories, of what comprise of "normal lar" stories in Malaysia. I must admit that I do not live in constant conscious fear in Malaysia, but in some way, out of necessity, I have become  semi-consciously fearful. I ask myself: am I truly living or surviving?

Before my recent trip to China, some of my friends gasped at me with huge eyes and said, “It’s not safe. You’ll get kidnapped. Your organs will be sold in the black market.” I can guarantee you that China is much safer than Malaysia (unless you are a political activist, perhaps). Once I saw a piece of evening news on the Chinese telly, in which a police interview took place. The spotlight was on an 18-year old unemployed boy who was recently arrested. He apparently broke into a house. Unfortunately for him, the house owners came home in the nick of time while he was performing the deed. Struck with fear, he deadlocked the front door from the inside and called the cops. The police officers asked him why did he turn himself in. In between tears, he said that he rather face prison than the beatings of the neighbors. House break-ins are extremely frowned upon in China, almost equated to murder. The neighbours will possibly beat you up, break your ribs and the police will pat them on the back for it.

This piece of news, gave me a few insights. Firstly, break-ins must be few and far in between (at least, less than in Malaysia) as its able to make the news headlines. Secondly, this news was used a example by the police to deter other youngsters from committing similar crimes. It proved how diligent the police officers were in trying to eradicate petty crime (I know I'm probably generalizing here, because there are instances where it shows otherwise). Third, it was just slightly over a decade ago since my first my trip to China. I remembered the poverty. How many were living in what seemed like unfathomable conditions. Little sheds with aluminum roofing and hay as incubators from the sub-zero temperatures. The land fertilized with human feces. The number of children beggars with dirt on their faces. I vividly remember the fruits at the local grocer - nicely stacked in a basket, black and rotting.. Yet, they were being sold. Although I was young, I realized that they were still being sold because this was probably as good as it got for many of them. Rotting fruit was better than no fruit. What I'm saying is that just over 10 years ago, China was so under-developed in comparison with Malaysia, yet today, I can personally say, is in many ways safer than Malaysia is today.

There's also a second part to the kidnapping story that I have not mentioned. The victim wrote that she was extremely thankful for the people who ran out of the car to help her.

"Strangers who didn't know who I was, came forward and offered me tissue paper, water, cellphones, and general comfort.Malaysians, please care for one another. You already do. Just keep on caring. Keep watching out for each other. Don't worry about being thought of as "busy body" or "overreacting". The world can be a cruel place, but all it takes is for people to care for one another to make all the difference."

This is a call of action to all of us. We should care enough to send smses to female friends who drive home alone late in the night, asking them if they have arrived home safely. Male friends should care enough to accompany their female friends to their cars. Or perhaps, drive them when possible. Large business owners should care enough to install extra CCTVs, lighting and hire more security guards for the parking lots. We should care enough to thank police officers, when a job is well done or even offer them a smile. Because we know that mere salary does not equate to job satisfaction, but appreciation can add a mile to job fulfillment. Parents should care enough to provide the love, support and education that a child requires, in hopes they grow up to be good citizens. The government should care enough to install more CCTVs on the public streets.

And very importantly, we should care enough, to be politically aware and cast our votes during elections to keep our politicians on their feet. When governments fear their people, there is liberty.

I'm not a huge optimist but I do believe small changes do go a long way. Sikit sikit lama jadi bukit.