709 - A Letter from Daddy
15 July 2011
Dearest Bam, Shu, Moo and Loosh,
After reading many of the mainstream media reports on last Saturday's event - 709, I feel compelled to write this letter to you.
You probably remember how, some days earlier, Grandma had been instigating all of you including Mummy to persuade or sweet talk me into not going. You must have been wondering why she was so nervous about a 'walk'. I was asked time and again, "Di Di (my nickname), you are a father of four young daughters; why must you do such a thing?"
My plan to go had constantly changed following the twists and turns of events. I had booked a hotel and cancelled it and booked another one. I had planned to go by car, by bus, by plane and finally decided to go by train one day earlier.
So, on 709, your daddy was there.
I met many 'unfamiliar' friends - pakciks, makciks, aunties, uncles, young women and men, teenagers, children and even the handicapped. It was just like a carnival, as commented by one of my friends.
It was fascinating to see the group we were in swell before my eyes, as if these people appeared out of thin air. With the whole area meticulously sealed off, how did so many people come? I suppose, some just like we did. It is most intriguing how the people finally gathered.
In front of Maybank, our numbers steadily grew. We seemed to feed on each others' strength. We cheered, we chanted, we waved to LRT trains passing by and we sang the national anthem. It was exhilarating.
Next to an old lady holding yellow chrysanthemums was a man holding a yellow balloon. How harmless and peaceful can you get? The peace was shattered by the police when they struck, shooting tear gas and chemicalized water cannons directly towards us. A big group of us was forced on to Jalan Pudu before we realized that we were trapped in between. The front was totally blocked off and behind the police were chasing and arresting people while rounds and rounds of tear gas were mercilessly fired. Ironically, in the mayhem, I felt a sense of harmony with my fellow Malaysians that I had never felt before. Malaysians were looking out for one another during the police attack, sharing salt, water, words of encouragement and arms to lean on ...
I was attacked by the tear gas four times and the worst was the last one when I could not go anywhere or do anything but sit and endure it, covering my whole head with my wet T-shirt. My eyes felt as if they had been splashed with acid, I was coughing and gagging, my skin crawled with burning sensations and I thought I was going to suffocate ... It was probably one of the worst experiences, saddened as I was by the actions of the police whose responsibility was to protect the rakyat. However, though by that time I was separated from all my friends, I was very encouraged by those suffering alongside me.
When things were settling down, my friends and I were re-united in the hotel lobby. One out of the eight of us had been arrested.
Reflecting on the experience, I was ever more hopeful of the future of our nation - the young Malaysians. I recalled the young engineer travelling with us who had approached me on his own initiative and said, "It's important to go." I recalled the young man studying and working in Singapore who flew in and stayed with me in the hotel room. I recalled the young girl suffering with me under attack by the tear gas, ill-prepared in her skirt and sleeveless T-shirt, who had woken up that morning, taken a bus and come, without the knowledge of her parents. I recalled the young lawyer who also stayed with me in the hotel room and told us that about 200 young people from his group had come to march. I recalled another young man who had argued with his parents, insisting on coming and on seeing me said, "I am surprised people of your age would also come." I recalled a young Malay man who came towards me, patted my back, probably seeing me in my most wretched and miserable moment. They have been an inspiration and one reason why I am very hopeful of the future of Malaysia.
If I was asked just to share one thing about 709, it would be this as related to me by one of my friends:
"As we marched together, one elderly Malay gentleman turned to me. Looking into my Chinese eyes, he said - This is the real 1 Malaysia!"
The more than 50,000 there were one people.
My story is only one among 50,000 stories but threading the 50,000 stories together is only one theme.
Let me answer the question Grandma asked:
709 has nothing to do with any political party nor individual. 709 has everything to do with the people of Malaysia. 709 has everything to to do with the future of Malaysia. 709 has everything to do with you, my dear ones, and therefore, Daddy was there and very proud of it.
Kisses
Daddy
(Written by Christopher Ling)
