Prisoner of birth

Whenever I had to fill out official forms in Malaysia, there will always be that mandatory 'race' column. With one seemingly insignificant tick in the right box, I proclaimed my right to all and sundry that I'm a Malay Bumiputera. To me, it was just a nod to my (majority) ancestry. I've never been ashamed to admit I'm a Bumi, that is, until I discovered days ago that my birth right reduces me to a blood-sucking leech who will steal if left unaided.

 

This discovery is not without personal ramifications. Whatever doubts I had in the past conveniently find its way back to the surface. First on the list is the strength of my qualifications. Had I studied abroad, whatever grades I achieved will be solely mine to trumpet or to whimper. If I was an Ivy League university student and obtained a commendable 2:1, it's an acknowledgement that my brains are still working. If I settled for a second-rate university and failed, it's  then obvious that I'm not exactly an intelligent being. So, how should I judge myself as a Bumi who read law from University of Malaya? Did I earn that degree because I had a somewhat functioning brain? Did I pass because I took time to attend the lectures and tutorials? Perhaps. But then again, it could be simply because I'm a Bumi. I may not have the brains but lucky enough to be part of this exclusive majority group which God decreed as one that is protected from womb to tomb. A species that has no survival skills in this modern economy rat race unless it is lent a helping hand by other races. And the same species that think it's their God-given right to order others to leave whenever things don't come their way.

 

 

Some may feel that being born a Bumi is skipping down a path of sweet smelling roses. Well, take a closer look while you sniff and don't be shocked by the hidden thorns. They will prick you when it's most unexpected and the hurt is yours to bear alone. One thorn I came across was during my university days. As a law undergraduate, I was part of the faculty's moot team from Year 2 right up to my final year. Along with my team mates, we would slog in the moot room over the presented hypothetical issues and sacrificed our holidays whenever there is a moot competition around the corner. As my team mates were all non-Bumis & I am usually mistaken as a Chinese, we were constantly plagued by concerns that the team may suffer in the hands of narrow minded judges for visible lack of Bumis. Despite teams' anonymity in such meets, it was inevitable that the universities were easily identifiable by the composition of races. We had no choice but to seek out potential Bumi mooters to join the team. By doing this, we ultimately encouraged unwilling participation from one who's born in the right race and abandoned those who are keen but of a different category. I may have chosen to be a mooter on my own accord but was I selected because I was a Bumi? Maybe. I may have been a relatively successful mooter but did I win because of my heritage? Possibly. Till the end, the amount of certificates and trophies received is somewhat marred by that nagging doubt.

 

 

The working world proved nothing different. Save for one, my former colleagues were all non-Bumis. While I had nothing but good camaraderie and professional relationships with most of them, the question I'm always asked about during family meets would be this. Why are you working in a Chinese firm? Don't you want to work for the Government? These questions bugged me to no end. It was then that I realised the questions were not as important as the reason behind it. What they're admitting by asking was that because I'm a Bumi, I could not survive the rigours of working in private practice. Because I'm a Bumi, I'm expected to sway my hips to the slow rhythm and one race mindset that continue to pervade the civil service. And when I accepted my current job in an opposition-run state government, my action is viewed by certain quarters as no better than an act of treachery against my race. Nothing is said about my qualifications because honestly, does that even matter in the first place? If I join the right government, I'm doing what's right by them, abandon all personal dreams and become a Bumi warrior. But when I joined another government, it's all about me being used to promote hidden agendas. Whoever said it was easy to be a prisoner of birth?

 

 

So yes, be warned that I will steal if you don't come to my rescue. I don't need to explain but to just admit. I'm lazy and stupid. I can't stand on my own two feet unless the national agenda continues to give me handouts and benefits.  And when I give birth to more little Napoleon beggars, I know what to answer if my children should one day ask why this country is still in the backwaters. Because others have run away to countries which promote equal-opportunity jobs, operate on merit and protect everyone who deserves to be protected. We had to stay behind as Bumis and continue preserving our inherent rights in honour of 'Negaraku, Tanah tumpahnya darahku'. Because frankly, we can't survive anywhere else.