Every time I read a story from another Malaysian who had joined the walk, I relieved and imagined what went on and it's just SO moving.
It's taken me a very long time to pen this down because every time I try to, I relive the moments and it scares me.Every time I try to, a surge of strong emotions over come me and it actually makes me cry. It was indeed a very emotional day for me.
But here is my story...
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I woke up that morning, prepared for a long walk. Prepared for a possible scuffle. Prepared for scars and wounds. Part of me kept telling myself that it will be fine. The other one prepared myself for the worse. Was I scared? Of course. But did I want to do it? Definitely!
My boyfriend and I met up with a friend at the Kelana Jaya LRT station. Much as we wanted to wear our yellow coloured items proudly, but we knew doing so would just land us all in unnecessary trouble.
We reached Masjid Jamek at about 11.30 in the morning. The entire street section there of Jalan Tun Perak was completely barricaded. There were more policemen there than I’d ever seen in my entire life. A waft of nervousness… perhaps fear floated over me. We quickly scuttled into Burger King and ordered some food while we check facebook and Twitter feeds. After all, it was just the three of us. We didn’t know where to go or what to do.
At one point, they started to lock down all the businesses in the area. No one could get in or out of the premises. We were stuck. The FRUs started their formations on the main road. That made me wonder – what was going on down the road that we needed these men? I knew then we were in for a rough ride.
Closer to 1.30pm, the staff had started to be more inquisitive and went out to check what was going on. So did several others. We took the excuse to do so too. It was drizzling but no one seemed to care about the rain. The policemen on standby kept asking us to go back in and don’t be a busy body. We didn’t want any trouble, so we did.
But it was almost 2pm at that time. We looked out the window and saw that the police weren’t just standing around chatting any more. They looked more alert and ready. We decided we should just be outside. As we approached the staff, she turn around with a very annoyed face (and a voice to match) “Betul ke nak keluar? Nanti tak boleh masuk balik tau?” (Trans: Are you sure you want to go out? I won't let you back in after this.") I looked at my boyfriend and he asked “Are you sure?” I nodded. Hell yeah.
We went out and looked to out right. There was a whole crowd walking down the intersection of the street we were at. Glancing at each other, the three of us just knew what to do.
We ran like the wind to join the march.
Wiggling our way into the middle, I whipped out my camera to take pictures. Then I looked around me. I was surrounded by men, women, boys and girls. The moment eyes met, smiles were exchanged. All of us walking in the rain with only one purpose.
The feeling of walking with a crowd like that is indescribable. It’s so many feelings and emotions jumbled in one. For once, I actually felt that I belonged there. I felt that I was Malaysian. Together with the crowd, we chanted “Hidup Bersih. Hidup Rakyat!” I chanted along with the crowd.
Instead of dampening our spirits, the rain fuelled our energy. I felt like a kid, walking around in the rain even though I know I’m not supposed to. And I wasn’t the only one!
Then hell broke loose. The FRUs came onto us out of the blue. The mass panicked. Fear of being caught. Fear of being beaten up. Fear of being charged for something we weren’t guilty for. Fear of our own policemen. The crowd split and ran like we were all chickens with our heads cut off. I ran too. But in the midst of all that panic, being bumped and pushed around and hearing terrified voices screaming “Lari!” (Trans: "Run!")my brain kept telling me “This may end in a stampede, be careful.”
After what felt like 10 mins of running, we stopped. An elderly gentlemen called out to us to gather at a spot and told us not to run. “Kami tak buat apa-apa. Hanya berjalan ke stadium. Jangan lari. Kami tak bersalah. Tak payah lari...” (Trans: We're not doing anything wrong. Just walking to the stadium. Don't run. We're not guilty of anything. There's no need to run.)
We then resumed our march towards the stadium. The rain had eased up a bit but it was still quite wet. I was soaked from head to toe. We met with another group of rakyat and joined forces marching in the rain.
Then the FRUs came at us again.
But this time it was bad.
We were backed up into Jalan Bukit Nanas, a single uphill road near the St John’s Cathedral. There were FRUs right in front of us and another group down the road on the left. We were essentially trapped into that area not knowing if there was a backroad out or not.
The rakyat linked arms and started chanting “La ilaha ilallah” (which I’m quite sure means There is no God except Allah but please correct me if I’m wrong). The chants got louder. The strength was summoned. The rakyat started to inch their way forward.
It wasn’t an act of threat.
It wasn’t an act of intimidation.
It was a plead.
It was our way of asking “For the love of God, please let us pass.”
*POW*
Everyone looked to the left and saw a tear gas canister flying through the air with smoke trailing after it. It was about 500m away from us, so we stood our ground and didn’t budge.
But the chanting stopped.
We looked forward again at the line of FRUs in front of us.
*POW*
Out of no where, this one innocent looking tear gas canister just came flying down right at us.
And a few more came peppering down.
The rakyat started to panic and screamed as they ran up the road.
Then I realized, “Geez we’ve just been gassed!” (I know, I know but seriously at a time like that, things happen really fast and sometimes your brain doesn’t have enough time to register what happens).
I quickly pulled my jacket over my nose and zipped it all the way up. I tried to breathe as calmly as I could while trying not to panic, walking up the hill AND looking around to see if anyone needed help at the same time.
While most of us were choking, everyone was prepared and was just calmly walking away from the gas.
I looked back. The FRUs were just standing there staring at us. They didn’t even try to come after us at all. I know that they wanted us to disperse but seriously? With a few gas canisters?
Tear gas got to me. Stung my eyes. Stung my skin. Stung my lungs. I didn’t get the full effect of it, so it really was like cutting a strong onion… or maybe 10. My skin felt like someone was rubbing ginger into a raw area.
The pup and I sought refuge at St John’s Cathedral. Thank goodness there was a free tap in the gardens. I quickly washed my face. We sat there with some fellow rakyat and tried to rationalize what was going on and shared our stories.
In about half an hour, we decided to leave the church grounds; after all, we hadn’t been able to do what we came out for.
We walked down the streets. I had been running around so much that I had completely lost my sense of direction. I had no idea where I was but just followed the group I was with.
In less than 5 minutes, we saw a large group chanting and walking towards us.
The five of us walked towards them, wanting to weave into the crowd.
I’ll be honest.I didn’t want to join in any more.I was scared.I started to fear the police and FRUs after seeing what they’ve done to us.I didn’t want to be caught.I didn’t want to be gassed again.I didn’t want to have to run.I wanted this to end and I knew all I had to do was walk away.
But looking at all the people around me, I knew I couldn’t give up. I knew as a Malaysian I had to fight. I looked around and thought “You know what, if we go down, we’ll go down as one.” Because we sure as hell will not let them get away with this!
I pushed my fear aside, chanted along with the group and marched down the road.
A few smiles and questions later, I found out that since the roads to the national stadium were blocked, we were heading to the next best place – KLCC.
We even met this man, his name is Halim who was in a neck brace. A neck brace, mind you. So we walked along with him, chatting. To be honest I was very worried that if the police or FRUs suddenly turn up, will he be accidentally hurt. He seemed to sense my concern and said “Don’t worry. I’m always the first one to run to the side.”
As we walked along the streets of Kuala Lumpur, I marvelled at the architecture and wondered why haven’t I noticed them before? Yeah that’s because I’m always stuck in a jam with annoying drivers trying to barge their way into my lane… defensive driving. That’s why I haven’t been able to notice my own capital city.
We walked all the way down Jalan Ampang. The streets were empty. Some people were just standing by the road side. Staring at us. We called out to them to join us. Some responded. Some just turned around.
The moment we came towards the Jalan Sultan Ismail-Jalan Ampang intersection. I was prepared to obey traffic light rules. I worried that we might not be able to cross the road safely and the group would be split up.
Turns out, the others who were in their cars and on their motorbikes stopped right there for us to pass. They cheered us on and honked to show their support. That helped to lift our spirits a bit.
After another 10 minutes or so, we finally reached KLCC. Everyone was crowding at the Jalan Ampang-Jalan Yap Kwan Seng-Jalan P Ramlee intersection. Fellow rakyat as far as the eye could see. Literally!
Then a familiar song broke out in the crowd. The crowd had started singing the national anthem. It was a real emotional moment. I sang with pride, so much so that I started to tear.
When we finished singing, we were motioned to sit down. Then we saw some people standing atop (what I can conclude) a vehicle giving speeches but I was sitting too far away to hear anything.
All of a sudden, we heard screaming from one end. We looked over and there were FRUs on foot and in trucks rushing towards us. The trucks were spraying chemical water (I assume) and the peaceful gathering turned into a screaming chaos within second.
The rakyat broke up into several groups. Some ran further down Jalan Ampang, others into Jalan Yap Kwan Seng and the rest towards KLCC grounds. I naively thought that I could sought refuge in the mall (I’m a girl, sue me). The malls and shops around were entirely locked down. We saw tourists pressed up against the glass doors and windows – probably wondering in bewilderment what sort of country did they come to for a nice holiday.
There was no time to think. All we did was run.
I almost tripped running down some steps. I stopped for a quick breather and to regain my balance when I turned around. I saw a boy trip and a policeman pounced on him. My first thought was “Oh shit. Run for your life.”
That’s right.
For the first time in my life – I ran for my life. I was literally scared out of my wits that I just ran.
We ran into the park and found a place to sit.
The pup looked at me and asked “Are you okay?”
I looked at him and said “I want to go home. I don’t want to do this any more.”
To me, it was pointless. All we wanted to do was to have a peaceful (albeit probably noisy) walk with other Malaysians towards the stadium seeking a change for our voting system.
We weren’t calling out to kill the King or the Prime Minister.
We weren’t saying they were badasses.
We didn’t beat anyone up or threaten anyone.
We want a fairer voting system.
That’s all.
It shouldn’t be this hard.
We shouldn’t have had to run for our lives.
We shouldn’t have been gassed or beat up.
I looked at my watch. It was already fallen apart amidst all that running and it said 4.05pm. I showed it to the pup. We glanced at each other and knew that it was time to stop. We said 2pm-4pm. We knew that if we kept going on past 4, it would give the police/FRUs every opportunity to arrest us or whatever they wanted to do.
So I walked over to the public toilet to change and freshen up.
An hour later Suria KLCC’s doors were once again open to public. But the LRT station (as well as the ones nearby) were closed. We had no choice but to wait.
We finally got home at 7pm. Drenched, sweaty, tired, in desperate need of a shower and rest.
First thing I did when we got home – I took our Bersih clothes and soaked them in clean water to get rid of all that chemical gas. Then a quick shower and soon after I was online answering tweets, PMs, status updates, uploading photos and talking to mum on the phone.
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If you asked me – I’d say it was well worth it. For the first time in my life, I felt that I had contributed to the country.
I could have very well stayed on in Australia after completing my degree – but no. I chose to come back to my country. Because I love it and I want to change it for the better.
It’s been nine months since 709 has happened.
Frankly, I’m very upset that 428 is happening soon.
It’s like we weren’t heard at all. It’s like no one cared that so many of us risked our lives on that day. It’s like all that we did… was for nothing.
But you know what?
I’m going to do it again. I will do it as many times as I need so that we are heard.
Just today I read from SUARAM that the students out there for Occupy Dataran were attacked by thugs. It hasn’t been confirmed who these thugs are but your guess is just as good as mine. You can read about it here and here.
This is how Malaysians are treated when we ask for a change. We are treated with violence and disrespect. We’re flung around like ragdolls till we bow and vow not to do it again.
This has got to stop.
