MY STORY @ BERSIH

2.0

The compilation of Bersih2.0 stories (from various sources)

compiled by Anonymous

Table of Content
A Day Before The Day
Hii Tiong Huat - The Braveheart of Malaysia

709
The Difference Between Bersih 1 & Bersih 2.0: I lost My iPhone

8 13 16 20 22 25 27 29 34 36 38 41 45

Saya rasa selamat bersama orang PAS

Air mata saya mengalir demi tanahair ini

I am not alone

The day I lost my fear

Yellow fever

In pursuit of true democracy

I am proud to be Malaysian

Bersih 2.0 bersihed me!

When the ordinary became extraordinary

Truth is inconvenient

I Was There

Lady of Liberty at Bersih march draws online support

Table of Content
Lessons learnt in a walk with friends

47 48 50 53 56 57 62 65

I was afraid, therefore I walked

Was it worth it?

How Bersih cleansed my Malaysian soul

The days of gatekeeping are numbered

Tanah tumpahnya darahku

Fortress KL: How did Bersih 2.0 slip past?

Dataran Maybank has become my Tahrir Square'

Merdeka when I was six, true democracy at 60?

71 74

We walked in peace until

Home
Hanging my head in shame

78

A Day Before The Day

Hii Tiong Huat - The Braveheart of Malaysia

8 July 2011, Hii Tiong Huat, clad in his trademark yellow T-shirt printed with his name, appeared at Petaling Street alone this afternoon holding up a self-made signboard and a Malaysia ag.

The yellow signboard depicted a set of handcuffs beside the word Bersih, followed by Kotor (dirty) OK?

Waving both the signboard and ag, Hii repeatedly shouted, Bersih arrested, Kotor OK, attracting the attention of many people including foreign tourists. Several vehicles also sounded their horns to show support.

Malaysiakinilearnt that the activist has been putting up the same gimmick in Sibu city for the past two days but had been ignored by the local police as they are used to his eccentric behaviour.

He ew to Kuala Lumpur today and went to Petaling Street with his gimmick as soon as he touched down.

In less than ve minutes, three police ofcers on motorbikes arrived at the tourist area and attempted to stop him.

A heated argument broke out between them, attracting more bystanders to stop and watch. Some of them started to record the incident with their camera while several shouted, Police disturbing! and Is this an offence?

Hii demanded that the police promise not to conscate his MyKad before he would show it, but after police gave in, he only showed his passport, claiming that his MyKad had gone missing and the related police report was not with him.

When one of the policemen informed him that they had been ordered to arrest him, Hii, with his arm grabbed by the policeman, shouted back angrily: What is my crime? Police, don't be rude! Why do you arrest me? arresting me?

Policeman:I'm discharging my duty based on orders. You should know that you can't show a Bersih signboard.

Hii:You should work for the people because your salary is paid by the people. Why are you arresting me?

Policeman: I will bring you to the police station rst, then my ofcer will tell you the reason.

Hii:What is wrong with showing a signboard?

Patrol car arrives

Shortly after that a police patrol car arrived, and the two police ofcers got out and politely requested Hii to get in, repeating that they had received orders to arrest him.

Then you go back and bring the order here to me. I promise I will wait for you here, he replied.

He then complained that the police ofcers, who conscated his passport, had cheated him because he had been promised he could retain his passport.

All ve police ofcers, obviously trying hard to end the war of words as the number of onlookers grew, compromised and handed him the passport.

Hii, however, refused to take it and wanted the police ofcer to put it back into his back pocket.

Finally, after the ofcer had done so, Hii ashed a smile and agreed to get into the police car.

But before doing so, he waved to the crowd and called out Bye-bye with a grin.

He was then brought to the Dang Wangi police station. It was learnt later that efforts are being made to bail him out.

By Kuek Ser Kuang Keng

709

The Difference Between Bersih 1 & Bersih 2.0: I lost My iPhone

I was one of those guys who lost my iphone to the cops for taking extensive photos & video shots. Was it worth it, you may ask? It is worth it if it is for my country and our future. Oh hell yes! Even now, I am not sulking at losing the phone, but the Moments of History that I captured with fellow Malaysians who posed for me and the awesome video of songs sang by all those people. So here I am venting my frustration in paper instead of photos.

What are the differences between Bersih 1 and Bersih 2.0, someone asked me (which I feel is a lot).

My journey began in KTM which I was worried will not make it to Sentral because I timed it to coincide with the Rally (2pm), instead of arriving early and getting arrested for being a loner in the wrong place. The trains after mine were delayed. So - lucky me. Nobody spoke in the train. It was eerily quiet. Just smiles. Most people were heading for Sogo/ Jamek area but my instincts told me to get down in KL Sentral.

Reaching KL Sentral, life seemed normal there except for the Presence of cops everywhere but more outside than inside. I went into McD to sit down and buy time and got news Ambiga, Anwar and many more were in Hilton just beside KL Sentral. It was raining heavily there and within minutesunexpectedly there was a huge booming, cheeringand shouting of thousands of people!

MALAYSIANS
I was shocked at the sizable number of Indians and Chinese. This was not a scene from Bersih 2007. The Chinese were no longer shy of Rallies. Not afraid of Perkasa or Ibrahim frog, in fact most were updated and ready for anything. The Indians were alert on National issues. It was no more only for Hindraf or Indian issues; most who turned up were ready for national service. Ambiga was the new Uthaya. The Malays were the highest in number but it is no more just the PAS Malays who turned up but those from every walk of life. The Mat Sallehs, the Indian tourists, Japanese and Korean people who also walked along.

Many aunties and uncles, professionals, lawyers, kampung folks, evengovernmentservants, so many youngsters were there. This was the facebook revolution!

These were the conversations I had with folks who turned up: "We are here for ourChildren's Future" - most of them agreed on this point. "if Ambiga is a lady and she could do this - what's wrong with me, a MAN?" - Malay uncle. "I have done worse things, I would go to jail for Ambiga!" - Indian guy who looked like a bouncer. "Are you one of them (cops)?" - youngster. "If this was their brother or sister, would the police hurt us?" - Indian aunty. "BN has to go!" - Malay aunty. "There isdemocracy and there is *democracy*" - Mat Salleh. "Where is the racial riot???" - another question by general public while smiling at each other. "Show us the Parang" - random shout to the police. "We are the ones who lost the most due to the degrading of the judiciary"- a lawyer who exchanged his namecard [he has his own law rm!]

Nothing prepared me for what I saw across the Klang river when I reached Pasar Seni LRT station; tens of thousands of people across the river. That was a safe haven for me as I joined the crowd but was greeted by tear gas being shot non-stop from Central Market. It was crazy. Tear gas canisters were falling every 2 minutes but the people kept on regrouping. Surprisingly, food stalls were open. Thanks to KFC and 7-Elevens which were open and allowed people in and out even though the managers chained their entrance with padlocks.

Pakatan sabotage?
The Rally belonged to the people through and through. Bersih was in charge, not Pakatan. I didn't see the unit amal nor the organized political party type of people. It was a random crowd. Pakatan leaders only came to the rescue when there was no leadership in the crowd. Pakatan MPs/Aduns did not interfere. For example, YB Manika (Kapar) was at Pasar Seni but just standing and watching the crowd with his team; never did he take over from the Bersih steering comittee. Wong Chin Huat was there. When Wong Chin Huat commanded a crowd of 10 thousand people at Pasar Seni Station and was reading the memorandum at the Top of his Voice and a reddened face full of energy, everyone was impressed by his leadership. He screamed at the Top of his Lungs "Kita Tak Mahu RASUAH!" and "Jangan-jangan - Jangan rasuah". His lengthy speech ended with singing Negaraku 3 times. There were tears in many eyes. Some sobbed openly unable to control their feelings. Everyone just stood there and sang in Unison ... Malay-Chinese-Indian-Punjabi-Kadazans-Asli and more.

A walk in the Park

Through Petaling Street to Stadium Merdeka, everywhere was packed to the maximum. It was a sea of people. Never had I imagined so many people would turn up through the propaganda and barricade and fear of riots being unleashed. Protestors just stood there and were communicating with the cops. How do you expect us to go near Stadium Merdeka if you intend to paint the whole road blue with uniforms? At this juncture, I saw many friends sitting together and taking photos in the middle of the road. Dancers, singers, picnic-goers in the crowd just enjoying themselves. So this must be the Walk in the Park suggested by Datuk Wong Chun Wai of The Star? To irritate him further, "Datuk please take a look at how much we enjoyed ourselves with fellow Malaysians. People paper, ka? Come and see the Real People la braderr!" And please take note of this new trend which emerged from Bersih 2.0 - PLANKING. I am laughing out Loud seeing all those Planking photos and videos online!!

Survival of the Fittest

It was temporary joy as the crowd which was dispersing was given a warning shot and the FRU started marching in. Before you know it, they started chasing the crowd. The weakest or slower ones were caught immediately and arrested. We were running at top speed. I wish I had this speed while at school. Next was a one hour worth of Cat and Mouse game around the KL Selangor Chinese Assembly Hall and Wisma Tun Sambanthan!! Thanks to the 7-eleven there, I went in the guise of a customer buying a drink. The Police never chase people who hold their posture and look composed. Hmm, maybe this was a good strategy. Nevertheless, I met my friend who was a Special Branch agent dressed in jeans with his team who advised me not to provoke. He said, "There are vans marked with CID ofcers. They go for the catch. The rest of us remain on the ground. The cops with cameras take photos of provocateurs (for evidence) then the rest go for the kill. But pity those people in the fringes, else they get caught." He assured me the cops are on our side of the struggle and are stuck between the public and a corrupted government.

Let us Go Home
When I thought it was nally over and time to return, there was a bigger crowd waiting in anticipation! As we ran, walked and panted away, we were greeted by friendly stationed police. This time, they even stood and smiled and posed for photos. One guy even mentioned, please make sure it comes out on Facebook!!! But just before we could thank our lucky stars, a few FRU trucks came in between Brickelds and Petronas and blocked our way back!!! People started screaming away, let us go home. We were dispersing but alas, this time we were not lucky. They were hell bent on trapping us and getting hold of us. After the harassment and another round of merry go round, we managed to get back to KL

10

Sentral only to realize no trains were leaving from KL Sentral and the LRT was totally shut down.

The Differences
Firstly, the Government is now fully prepared for Massive Rallies by creating Massive Roadblocks and creating Massive Trafc Jams. Four years is a long time to prepare and with heavypropagandaand vilication, the process is much more extreme.

The Government has learnt much, but the people have learnt more.
Sub-contracting racism to Perkasa, whom we can daringly call cowards since they didn't turn up for the Rally, didn't work. The May 13 Bogeyman and racist conicts don't work. The Communist tag to Bersih doesn't work (hello we have seen you tag Hindraf to LTTE terrorists, you think we believe you?) Have you read the bedtime story called "The Boy who Cried Wolf"? After the 3rd time, nobody believed the boy. You are the Government for heaven's sake!!! Be responsible. We have seen too many 'Gempar', 'Derhaka', 'Jahanam', 'HARAM' headlines from Utusan, NST, Star etc. to really bother. Planting shiny parangs and well-preprared molotovs and taking us for rides do not work.

Khairy, who described Bersih 2007 as "beruk-beruk di jalanraya", became a Beruk himself. His comment that he was doing it because he did not agree with Bersih's method doesnt add value. All the more to beat the "Beruk", he became a Beruk himself. Where was PPP and MIC youth as claimed by him?

Facebook and Twitter were unheard of during Bersih 2007, but in Bersih 2.0 Facebook played a heavy role to garner support. Other than that, the after effects of Bersih are going Viral. Bersih went with Ambiga and came back with 65 year old Anne. Just look at Aunty Liberty and how famous she has become! Check http:/ /www.facebook.com/pages/MalaysianLady-Of-Liberty/227295033969781 and also Twitter account #bersihstories (or at http:/ / bersihstories.wordpress.com/)

Planking: For the 1st Time we see a huge number of Malaysians having fun at the Rally by Planking. Go gure.

1Malaysia: This was the theme at Bersih 2.0: Masyarakat majmuk, all the slogans and posters mean nothing. The heartfelt togetherness at Bersih, the people that our government is trying to keep apart got together again. It was indeed 1 Malaysia.

11

Pakat a n

R ak yat :

D i d n' t

exist

before

the

last

r ally,

so

we

h av e

more formidable opposition / government in waiting. This is a fact. Pakatan gave support to Bersih, but Never did they Sabotage Bersih or Hijack the rally. Anwar could have been the Man in 2007, but Now it is Ambiga.

May 13: We realised more it was UMNO unleashing its demons against us. Yet there are more Malay brothers and Sisters who are on our side and will defend us before those who are against us will be able to touch us. That is why since 2008, no racial riot has happened even though many have tried to evoke it and the rakyat provoked. Malays are with their Chinese and Indian brothers and sisters. It is no More Us vs Them!

Lies: Too Many lies have been told that the rakyat doesn't believe them anymore. What more when the Prime Minister renegades his promise. We thought Najib will do a Badawi but he did worse. He didn't stick to his promise! It is worse when the very institution you continue to uphold, thesovereigntyof the Malays Rulers are being trampled upon - People can see this.

Felda Folks - I travelled home with folks from Felda who were upset BN didn't listen to the king. They said they will spread the message to Felda. Money may be given but in the long run, it is we who will lose this country to corruption, lies and injustice.

Malaysians - For all who missed Bersih in 2007, now was their time to be part of History. No, we are not looking for Justice like in Tahrir Square but just peace-loving Malaysians who want Free and Fair Elections. Is that so Difcult to understand?

By vetrivel

12

Saya rasa selamat bersama orang PAS

.. Seorang pakcik yang berkopiah menuju ke arah saya, "Di manakah stadium?" Saya

menuding jari ke depan. Lantas beliau berjalan ke arah sana, tanpa sebarang keraguan. Saya merasakan diri saya amat tidak berguna pada ketika itu. Mengapa tidak saya

bertindak sebagaimana pakcik itu? Berarak adalah hak kita. Mengapa pula saya takut? Saya tetap berdiri di situ, menyaksikan bagaimana orang tua itu dihalang polis, dan kemudian beliau terus berjalan ke depan.

Kemudian saya berjalan, dan terserempak dengan seorang polis muda.

Beliau bertanya Beliau

untuk apa saya berada di situ, saya sekadar jawab, tak ada, cuma jalan-jalan.

menunjuk ke arah Jalan Sultan, mengarahkan saya beredar dari situ, atau saya akan ditangkap. Saya tahu beliau cuba menakutkan saya. Masih awal lagi, saya tidak mahu

timbul hal, maka saya pun beredar.

Saya nampak sekumpulan orang di kedai KL Commercial Book Co., semacam orang PAS, maka saya berjalan menuju ke arah mereka. Pada hakikatnya, saya amat yakin dengan mereka. Saya rasa diri saya berselindung di dalam kelompok mereka pada ketika itu. Ya, saya rasa sangat selamat.

Pada kira-kira jam 12.20 tengah hari, kelompok di sini hanya kira-kira 20 orang. Tibatiba kami dengar jeritan orang, dan kami bergegas ke situ dan mendapati kira-kira 2,000 orang. Mereka muncul entah dari mana, sungguh ajaib! Tapi kami masih menganggap

bilangan ini terlalu sedikit!

Pada kira-kira jam 12.30 tengah hari, saya tak berapa ingat lagi.

Kami nampak

sekumpulan manusia menuju ke arah kami melalui Jalan Sultan, sambil melaungkan slogan. Bilangan mereka terlalu ramai berbanding kami. Ramai orang tua yang bertanya, PERKASA? Pemuda UMNO? Kami berdiri di situ dan memandang, gagal mendengar apakah yang dilaungkan.

Tiba-tiba, ada yang bertepuk tangan, berkata "Tengok, Cina ada, India ada, bukan PERKASA, bukan Pemuda UMNO, orang kita!" Kami bertepuk dengan gemuruh, berarak ke arah mereka untuk berkumpul bersama. Kami seolah-olah dapat membentuk pasukan kami, dan tidak lagi keseorangan atau kesepian.

13

"BERSIH! BERSIH! Hidup BERSIH!" Ribuan yang membanjiri Jalan Sultan. Orang berada di tengah dan di tepi jalan, warga tua dan warga muda. Maka kami terus berjalan, tidak memasuki jalan ke arah Stadium Merdeka. Saya sedar, bilangan kami masih tidak

mencukupi. Kami menuju ke arah Pudu Raya, dan di situ telah dibanjiri lautan manusia yang lebih daripada 10 ribu.

Abang saya menghantar sms kepada saya, memberitahu bahawa pasukan di Hotel Hilton telah mula bertolak. Dengan serta-merta saya berkongsi maklumat ini dengan orang yang berada di sisi saya.

Kira-kira jam 1 tengah hari, kami nampak satu pasukan yang lebih besar, kemas susunannya berarak dari arah Hospital Tung Shin. Kemudian, muncul lagi satu pasukan dari Kota Raya. Tidak berhenti kami bertepuk tangan. Kami menjerit sepuas-puasnya. Saya nampak ramai yang menakung air di matanya. Saya amat terharu. Saya kini berada di tengah-tengah belasan, malah puluhan ribu orang. Saya tidak kesepian, kami tidak kesepian!

Terharu kerana dibantu orang yang saya tidak kenal langsung!

Kami berkumpul di depan Menara MayBank. Saya tak dengar apa yang diucap pemidato. Tapi saya hanya seorang penyokong. Saya hanya menyorak bersama kelompok manusia,

bertepuk tangan apabila semua orang berbuat demikian.

Kemudian saya mendapati trak FRU. Seorang warga tua, mungkin dari PAS, memesan agar saya undur dahulu. Tidak lama kemudian, FRU melepaskan gas pemedih mata, dan

meriam air kimia yang berwarna biru. Saya rasa macam tersengit. Baunya sangat tidak menyenangkan. Orang di sisi saya (sahabat dari kaum lain) menuangkan air ke atas

kepala saya. Ada seorang yang menyapu minyak angin di bawah kelopak mata saya. Ada pula yang memberi garam kepada saya.

Saya teringat, air mata saya mengalir pada ketika itu bukan disebabkan gas pemedih mata, tetapi mengalir kerana terharu dengan bantuan yang dihulurkan oleh orang-orang yang saya tak kenal ini.

Pada ketika itu saya nampak polis, kononnya, menangkap orang ramai di depan Menara MayBank. Ramai yang memanjat ke atas di cerun pada mulanya, kemudian mereka Saya sangat marah ketika itu, kerana saya nampak

melompat dari tembok yang tinggi.

ramai wanita dan warga tua. Dan mereka yang kononnya polis itu dicemuh dalam hati saya, "Bukan manusia!"

Saya berehat seketika.

Saya menjangkakan bahawa orang ramai akan menuju ke Jalan

14

Sultan. Maka, saya berjalan dahulu ke arah sana. Apabila berdekatan dengan KFC, hujan mulan turun. Seorang peserta yang tua berkata kepada saya, "Komunis pun tak macam

ini!" Saya tercengang seketika, gagal memberi apa-apa jawapan....

Matlamat sama..
Pada sebelah malam, saya dimaklumkan bahawa kawan dari kaum Melayu amat terharu dengan kehadiran kami. Mereka berkata, "Itu kebanggaan kami apabila kamu muncul

bersama. Kamu duduk belakang sikit, biar kami yang hadapi peluru (gas pemedih mata) dan keganasan di depan!"

Nota:

Akhirnya saya sedar, mengapa saya berselindung dalam kelompok orang PAS.

Mereka membuktikan dengan tindakan mereka, itu yang membuatkan saya terharu dan berasa selamat. Lain kali, saya tetap akan bersama mereka, berada di garis depan, untuk menghadapi peluru (gas pemedih mata) dan keganasan.

Terima kasih, sahabat semua. Walaupun kita tidak berkenalan, tapi matlamat kita sama. Dan ini hanya boleh dirasai mereka yang hadir dalam perhimpunan.

Saya menyeru agar lebih ramai bangkit dari tidur, dan mereka yang sudah sedar, biarlah bertindak.

Chen Shu Yong

15

Air mata saya mengalir demi tanahair ini

Saya seorang paderi, malah seorang paderi perempuan.

Walaupun saya tidak pernah menyertai perhimpunan sebelum ini, namun saya amat prihatin terhadap senario negara. Lebih-lebih lagi, negara kita seakan-akan keparahan sejak Kemarahan meruap-ruap dalam hati saya. Maka saya

beberapa tahun kebelakangan ini.

mula mempertimbangkan sama ada turun ke jalan raya atau tidak kali ini.

Demi masa depan negara, dan supaya saya tidak kesal kemudian, maka saya mengambil keputusan untuk turut serta. Ia berlaku dua minggu sebelum tarikh perhimpunan

berlangsung. Hati saya tidak tenang sejak itu.

Saya meronta-ronta dalam hati saya. Ketakutan, kontradiksi bergelut dalam diri saya.

Ini kerana identiti saya.

Sekumpulan artis berada di bawah jagaan saya.

Mereka juga

tersentuh dengan keadaan sedemikian, namun mungkin ada yang menganggap mereka tidak sesuai untuk hadir aktiviti sedemikian kerana identiti mereka sebagai orang awam. Dan mungkin ada yang menganggap saya sebagai seorang paderi, hanya perlu menasihat agar mereka berdoa dalam rumah.

Namun demikian, selain identiti sebagai artis, mereka adalah warga sivil negara ini juga, dan mereka bertanggungjawab untuk mempertahankan negara ini.

Air mata saya mengalir...

Dalam dilema sedemikian, saya berdiam diri ketika berdepan dengan mata mereka yang mahu mendapatkan jawapan daripada saya. tapi juga tidak menghalang secara terbuka. Saya tidak menggalakkan secara langsung, Di samping itu, saya mendidik mereka,

berkongsi dengan mereka senario dalam negara kita. Apa itu BERSIH 2.0? Apakah lapan tuntutan tersebut? Apakah tujuan perhimpunan tersebut...

Saya berharap mereka akan memahami sepenuhnya, menggunakan kematangan diri untuk menilai dan membuat keputusan, sama ada hadir atau tidak.

Sehingga sehari sebelum perhimpunan, dua orang artis menyatakan keputusan mereka untuk menyertai. Dan saya pun mendedahkan hasrat saya untuk hadir. Mereka agak terkejut,

16

kerana paderi yang tidak menunjukkan pendirian pada hakikatnya sudah bersedia untuk berdepan dengan apa yang mungkin berlaku. Pada hakikatnya, saya bukannya berani, saya juga ketakutan.

Malam sebelum perhimpunan, hati saya tidak tenang. Tak lena tidur saya.

Ketika saya

berdoa untuk tanah air yang mana saya lahir dan membesar, air mata saya mengalir. Hati saya berat sekali.

Saya bangun dari tidur pada jam 5 pagi, 9 Julai. perhimpunan aman ini berjalan dengan lancar.

Saya bersembahyang, mendoakan agar

Pelan A,B, C
Pada jam 9 pagi, saya bersarapan dengan dua orang artis, sambil berbincang bagaimana menembusi sekatan ke dalam bandar, malah kami mempunyai pelan A, B, dan C! Akhirnya kami mengambil pelan A, masuk ke bandar dengan kereta, dan pergi ke rumah seorang kawan yang berdekatan dengan Stadium Merdeka.

Tanpa diduga, polis memberi laluan kepada kami. Hallelujah! Tuhan mendengar doa kami!

Kami memasuki sebuah bandar yang sepi, lancar, dan dingin. Rasanya cukup pelik.

Orang ramai menyuntik semangat

Kami singgah di rumah kawan sehingga kira-kira jam 1 tengah hari, kemudian bertolak dengan resah dan gelisah. dengan Dewan Perhimpunan Kami tiba di bangunan Chan See Shu Yuen (bertentangan Cina KL-Selangor), mendapati jalan memasuki Stadium

Merdeka telah disekat dengan dawai besi, dan beberapa orang polis, pemerhati dari Majlis Peguam berada di situ. Kami tidak nampak orang ramai di situ.

Kira-kira 20 minit kemudian, hujan turun dengan lebat. Pada ketika inilah kami nampak kumpulan orang berganding tangan berjalan dari arah Masjid Negara dan Jalan Petaling menuju ke arah kami. Walaupun orang tidak ramai di pihak kami, namun hati saya

disuntik semangat setelah nampak mereka. Kami menyambut mereka dengan tepukan.

Tiba-tiba saya menjadi cemas pula.

Saya memanjangkan leher saya untuk melihat apa

yang berlaku, walaupun dengan ini saya yang berteduh di bawah jambatan akan dibasahi hujan.

Namun, tiba-tiba mereka berhenti, dipercayai dihalang polis.

Saya nampak ramai orang

berganding tangan dalam air hujan yang mencurah. Hati saya panas, dan mengeluh, apa

17

yang telah kita lakukan? jelatanya?

Mengapa negara ini bertindak sedemikian terhadap rakyat

Sejenak kemudian, mereka bergerak lagi ke depan dengan perlahan-lahan, dan akhirnya berdiri di hadapan dawai besi. Kini, polis juga berganding tangan menjadi satu barisan, bersemuka dengan peserta demonstrasi. Jarak mereka adalah dekat, boleh menyentuh satu sama lain jika menghulurkan tangan. Mujur kedua-dua pihak berjaya mengawal diri, dan tidak berlaku kejadian yang tidak diingini.

Kawal diri
Pada ketika ini, hujan semakin lebat, semua orang basah kuyup dibuatnya. terus melaungkan slogan. menunjukkan kuasa rakyat. Ada yang memakaikan baju kuningnya. Namun kita Kita hanya mahu

Pada masa itu, saya berhubung dengan kawan saya yang berada di Hospital Tung Shin. Beliau berkata keadaan di sana sangat sengit. Gas pemedih mata dan meriam air

berkimia dilepaskan. Saya amat gelisah dan tidak berhenti mendoa. Malah ada seketika kawan yang berada di hujung talian panggilan sana menjerit, kemudian talian putus. Hati saya menjunam, hanya mendoakan agar ini tidak berlaku apa-apa terhadapnya. Hati saya lega apabila beliau memanggil balik untuk melaporkan bahawa dirinya selamat.

Demikianlah yang berlaku di tempat saya berada pada 9 Julai. Hati saya terkapai-kapai. Cemas, lega, kemudian resah... Hanyut tenggelam mengikut perkembangan yang berlaku. Tiada rempuhan, tiada bahasa kesat dikeluarkan di tempat saya berkumpul, malah seorang pemimpin mengulangi peringatan bahawa perhimpunan ini adalah aman.

Ada masanya sesetengah yang berdoa, dan kami pun menyertai bersama. Biarlah kita serah kepada Tuhan untuk menentukan. Hati saya kembali damai. Semoga Tuhan bersama kita untuk berdepan dengan segala ini.

FRU muncul untuk menangkap orang ketika kami bersedia untuk bersurai.

Keadaan

menjadi cemas ketika itu. Artis saya menarik saya untuk menyeberangi jalan. Kasut saya rosak pada saat-saat itu. Tapi saya tidak peduli, berlari untuk meninggalkan tempat

kejadian. Mujur kami tidak ditangkap. Tercungap-cungap kami dibuatnya. Perhimpunan BERSIH 2.0 berakhir dalam suasana cemas berbaur ghairah.

Hati saya masih tersentuh

Setelah kembali ke rumah, saya melayari laman internet. Gambar, tulisan, klip video yang dimuatnaikkan ke laman internet tetap menyentuh hati saya. Rupa-rupanya tempat saya

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berada kemungkinan tempat yang paling "aman". Tiada gas pemedih mata dan meriam air berkimia, dan tiada keganasan yang berlaku. Namun, saya tetap marah apabila mendapati keganasan berlaku di tempat perhimpunan yang lain. Mereka hanyalah rakyat jelata tanpa senjata, mengapa dilayan sebegini? Bagaimana mereka

Apakah polis tidak mempunyai saudara-mara atau adik-beradik? sampai hati untuk menggunakan kekerasan sedemikian?

Untuk saya, tujuan perhimpunan ini bukan sahaja menyedarkan masyarakat Malaysia, malah menarik tumpuan seluruh dunia. Ini perhimpunan aman, tiada kereta yang dibakar, tiada kedai yang dirompak, tiada seorang pun anggota polis dicederakan, tiada orang yang menangguk di air keruh. Yang ada semangat tolong-menolong ketika berdepan dengan serangan tanpa simpati. Kita mengawal diri dengan baik. Bukankah ini makna sebenarnya Satu Malaysia?

Sebagai seorang paderi, saya gembira apabila mengetahui ramai penganut kristian yang hadir dalam perhimpunan. Saya harap lebih ramai penganut kristian akan tampil ke depan, mencintai negara kita dengan tindakan kita!

Di sini saya ingin merakamkan penghargaan kepada dua orang artis yang bersama saya. Keberanian mereka, semangat patriotik mereka, telah diterjemahkan kepada tindakan, bersama menyaksikan sejarah ini. kasih kerana keberanian anda, Semua pejuang yang berani, dari semua kaum, terima membubuh tanda noktah yang sempurna dalam

perhimpunan ini, semoga Tuhan memberkati anda semua!

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I am not alone
Last Saturday, (I shall call the day 9711), I made a sudden decision to drive to Kuantan from my house at Bukit Jalil. Knowing what I could face along the way if I travelled via the city or if I took the Middle Ring Road 2, I took the longer route. I entered the LEKAS highway in Balakong and drove all the way to Kuala Pilah, then to Bahau and Serting. From there, I used the Muadzam Shah trunk road to Kuantan. The journey took me two hours more than the usual route but I was happy. I took the pleasure of gorging on masak lemak daging burung puyuh (quail) and masak lemak telur itik (duck egg) in Kuala Pilah. At Serting, I indulged in a few durians by the roadside. The six-hour journey took me along many kampungs and valleys, palm oil estates and padi elds. I felt blessed and I envied those villagers who seemed to me less bothered about what was going on in the city that day. I wished I could live in one of those kampungs at that time. I really did. In Kuantan, I checked into one of the riverside hotels. By dusk, the view of the river was breathtaking when everything turned gold in colour. From the eighth oor balcony, I felt truly blessed for being the citizen of this country. The call of the muezzin from the State Mosque nearby coupled with the recorded sound of swiftlets from the many swiftlet-breeding shacks at the rooftops of old shophouses was priceless. It was to me the denition of peace. But the peace that I enjoyed that day may not last long, if we continue to forget our history, and we continue with our diverted path. When the people took their anger and frustration to the streets, it had to be for a reason. I am sure it must have been the most difcult decision of their lives. They were going to leave their comfortable lives, their families, children and friends behind. They understood the risk of doing so, the threat and harassment from the authorities, the pain and suffering endured from the tear gas, the beatings and water cannon spray. They knew that they could be injured or captured or even tortured. They could lose their jobs, isolated from their friends, relatives and even from their own family for taking a stand so radical and different. Yet against all such disadvantages, they rally forward for one thing and one thing only to lend a united voice, that for the sake of this beloved country, the current leader must listen and take note of! I am one of those people who felt the same (I just didnt have the guts to join the celebration), who appreciate peace and harmony, who value the good things in life and who really want to do something good for my country. I am against corruption, misuse and abuse of power. I want the tax money that I have religiously paid to the government that I have elected, to be properly used and distributed for the benet of my generation and the generations to come. I want peace most importantly, to be able to trust, to work and play together with my neighbours and friends regardless of their skin colour, economic status and faith. At the

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same time, I want an assurance that the status of the Malays and the status of Islam are guarded, while at the same time protecting the rights and freedom of others. You see, I am a very simple Malaysian with very simple requests. I believe I am not alone. The 6,000 or 50,000 who took their beliefs to the streets were truly the brave ones and I am jealous of them. I can almost guarantee that this country will remain free and prosperous if the brave ones continue to be seen and heard. I want to remember the plight and ght of my ancestors who gave everything including their very own lives simply to ensure their freedom and the freedom of their generations (me included). Allahyarham Tok Janggut, Hj Abdul Rahman Limbung, Dol Said, Tok Gajah and so many others whom I am slowly forgetting, if it were not for you I am not alone. There are many others like me and we are watching, so very closely...

Mohd Rizal Jaafar

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The day I lost my fear

On Saturday, July 9, thousands of ordinary Malaysians thronged into various spots around central KL to demand a just electoral system. The government had tried its best to suppress the rally through various means, but ultimately failed to stop it from going ahead. With the previous weeks cat and mouse game played by the government in agreeing to the rally and the roadblocks to intimidate citizens, the fact that the rally even materialised is a moral victory for the cause and major slap in the governments face. Obviously shutting off the entire city centre and major trafc arteries failed to paralyse the movement of protestors into the city. I decided to join the rally for a host of reasons. Primarily it was the cause; it is a cause I believe in and a cause worth ghting for. This was my way of showing support. The governments attitude towards Bersih 2.0 and its obvious bad faith in handling the matter had raised the stakes from just electoral reform to everything else that is wrong with this country today. This rally was fast becoming one of the most signicant events in recent Malaysian history and I felt that this was a watershed moment in our nations history. I wanted to be a part of that. Most importantly it is my right as a citizen to assemble peacefully, and demand justice and fairness; it is a right guaranteed to me by this countrys Constitution and no government has a right to decide how I may or may not exercise this right or how I may or may not express my legitimate grievances. I had stopped believing in the proper channels a long time ago. If these so-called channels did work, there would have been no need for a rally in the rst place. To me these proper channels are nothing more than the mythical pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I was with the crowd at Jalan Pudu near Tung Shin Hospital where several thousand were in tense standoff with the Federal Reserve Unit who formed riot lines at both ends of the street. I could smell the acrid stench of tear gas wafting over as the winds blew them towards our direction. As we were in a group that also included a woman friend, we decided to play it safe and move towards Tung Shin Hospital to avoid the cops charging and their tear gas. Police helicopters were circling above us menacingly and I was nervous to say the least. It is one thing to be tear gassed and doused with chemicals, but my immediate concern was the safety of my friends with me. But as the crowd perked up facing the FRU and chanting, my spirits lifted up a wee bit. Then there was a rousing rendition of the Negaraku by the protestors that we proudly joined in (I have never felt that red up before singing the national anthem). The cops then moved in with more tear gas and we went deeper into the Tung Shin Hospital car park seeking shelter from the gas. A hospital seemed a logical and safe choice to seek shelter, and lo and behold, I saw a canister headed our way and we started running towards the back of the building. We failed to see the second one coming until it landed about three to four feet away from me right in my escape path and we had to turn back and run uphill amidst all the chaos

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and confusion. The three of us held each others hands and ran into a dead-end and a virtual trap. Choosing between arrest and tear gas, we decided to brave the gas instead and ran back towards the direction of the spot where the canisters landed still holding onto each other. At this point I accidentally inhaled the gas and exposed my eyes to it and found myself temporarily blinded and having difculty breathing. I am blind! I shouted and my woman friend hung on to my hands and dragged me to safety in front of the hospitals main entrance. Running blind and barely able to breathe is quite the experience. For starters, you arent sure if you will make it, and secondly, it is disorienting and scary as hell. I swallowed a large pinch of salt (instant relief to the throat and nose) and washed my face with cold water we brought along with us just in case. It took us a few moments to reorient and regroup in order to get to safety with everyone accounted for. We escaped using a back wall where other protestors were helping us over and guiding us to safety. At this point anger took over me, the fact that the police could so callously re tear gas into a hospital compound was disgusting and stupid to say the least. A Chinese gentleman, noticing my eyes still red from the gas, offered me some water and some words of encouragement; we high-ved each other and parted ways into Jalan Pudu Lama. Having been gassed I lost all the fear that I carried with me to the rally; it was a toxic baptism and, ironically, a liberating experience. I realised I had nothing to fear anymore and being gassed though unpleasant wasnt as bad as I thought it would be. We moved along to Chinatown and eventually made our way back to Bukit Bintang via Pudu. Along the way I saw the countless brave souls who were arrested being placed on the pavement before being shipped away in police Black Marias. We boarded the LRT and made our way home, glad that everyone in our group was alright and safe. Of course that wasnt the end of it. As we exited Kelana Jaya LRT, there were FRU personnel there too, riot shields and all, stone faced and bored. Whatever were they there for? We just walked past them without a care in the world. Was it worth it? That is a question many have asked; I think it is. We stood our ground, proved to our government that some issues are just beyond the ethnic interest of any ethnic community. Most importantly we can come together as one people to demand what is rightfully ours, in the face of a regime who rules us by dividing us in order to rule. I guess the thing that spooked them the most was that this was a multiracial grouping thinking along nationalistic and not racial lines. So we failed to deliver our memorandum to the King, but we proved our point. We proved that Malaysians still care about their country and are still a patriotic lot. We proved that young people arent as apathetic as we thought them to be. We proved to them that enough is enough and unless real reforms are made there are only so many carpets to take the dirt, before we run out of them. I am proud of the fact that I stood at Jalan Pudu that day with my fellow citizens demanding what is rightfully ours. When we sang our anthem there in the face of the riot lines, tear gas and chemical-laced water cannons from the police, it was my proudest moment as a Malaysian.

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Moments later when innocent protestors and bystanders were tear gassed in the compound of Tung Shin hospital meters away from the buildings main entrance, that was indeed a shameful moment. Fellow Malaysians gassing their countrymen in a hospital compound, sad but true. Will I do it again? If the need arises again, I most certainly will. There is nothing to fear anymore. Sometimes in life you have to stand your ground and be counted. There is this quote I got from the movie The Boondock Saints that I feel best illustrates my point we must all fear evil men. But, there is another kind of evil which we must all fear most and that is the indifference of good men!

Golongan Kiri

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Yellow fever
Forget it, said my father. Youll never get anywhere near the city centre. The governments got it completely locked down. Besides, the police will arrest anyone who even approaches the barricades didnt you read the papers? Theyre going to be very brutal. Theyre sending in the army. Id like to give it a shot anyway, I replied. He shrugged. Youre wasting your time. The next morning he watched my sister, my uncle, my cousins, and I as we ineptly tried to plot a route into the city. Finally he gave an exasperated sigh. You chaps have no hope of getting in. You dont even know how the roads connect. You need someone who knows the road system and the different side-streets. I looked at him. He was quiet for a moment. Then he told us to get in the car. He got behind the wheel and suddenly he was driving us through the streets of Kuala Lumpur, weaving through side streets and smooth-talking his way past police barricades. When we arrived at the city centre he walked ahead like an excited child, boasting of his knowledge of the road system and laughing and joking along the way. I saw a side of him I hadnt seen for a while. The side of him who hates being told what not to do. The side of him that lets no authority trump his own reason. The side of him that throws caution to the winds and laughs as it blows past. He grinned mischievously and I thought, Jeez, thats where I get that spirit from. When we nally joined up with a Bersih procession I was heartened to see thousands of people of all races demonstrating peacefully. We protested together, we laughed together, and when the tear gas canisters started to rain down, we shared salt and water together. Like me, everyone else there had work to get back to, targets to meet, and obligations to full, places to go and people to meet. But they came to the rally anyway because they knew it was important. Despite the many instances of police brutality and their use of tear gas and water cannons on peaceful protestors, I also saw some policemen and women who were willing to meet my gaze not with hostility but with understanding, who were willing to shake hands with protestors, who spoke to me with friendliness and respect, and who acted with dignity and restraint. These people were a credit to their ofce and represented the role of the police as it should be. The Bersih rally revealed a lot of ugliness in some, but it brought out the best in many others. Its been two days since the Bersih rally, since tens of thousands of us painted the town yellow, and since the BN-controlled press has worked to portray the peaceful protest as an unruly mob, and the lack of property damage as a victory for the government. But Ill remember the 9th of July 2011 as the day thousands braved tear gas, police barricades, and

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the threats of arrest, violence, and genocide to preserve our freedom. The day we rejected the illegality of a peaceful rally for clean elections as being incompatible with a democracy. To our government, Id say that you know the true victors and losers of the 9th of July no matter what you pretend in the mainstream press. Id say that despite everything, the people are still willing to work with you if you listen to us. But if you persist in your corruption and brutality, we will continue to embarrass you until weve driven you out of ofce. And that if you decide to ght us youll be ghting your best people, for with us will stand those who are willing to struggle for the good of our country, and those to whom our common humanity matters more than your orders. Heres another tip: Take care when using the media. Many of us who turned out at Bersih did so because for years youve justied your rule in the language of rights and democracy. For years youve told us that Malaysia is a free and democratic country, and that the government is tolerant and moderate. And so on Saturday, thousands of Malaysians assembled to exercise their right to assemble and to speak out despite the ban, as they would in a tolerant democracy. For years youve used propaganda as a tool, forgetting that it cuts both ways. The problem with using propaganda though, is that, sometimes, people believe it. Its a funny world we live in.

Shaun Tan

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In pursuit of true democracy

JULY 11 July 9, 2011, the day a new independent nation was born. Is it the end of the struggle? No, its just the beginning. Many challenges lie ahead, no doubt. Nonetheless, its a historic milestone that all citizens of the new nation can be proud of. What nation am I talking about? The worlds newest nation, the Republic of South Sudan. Ive always dreamt of living in a different age, a different era. More specically, the era when my beloved nation gained her independence from arguably the greatest empire the world has ever seen. Standing right in front of the historic Merdeka Stadium on July 9, 2011, brought back my school memory of a photographic image in which our founding father, the late Tunku Abdul Rahman Putra Al-Haj, raised his right hand towards the sky, proclaiming the word MERDEKA! MERDEKA! MERDEKA!, each time followed by the thunderous echoes of 20,000 fellow Malaysians in the stadium. Sentimentally, I wish I lived that day. Before I carry on sentimentalising, I was brought back to the harsh, present-day reality. Yes, still standing where I was, I was horried by the scene along the hilly street leading to the main entrance to the stadium. Red FRU trucks lining the street with scores of FRU personnel (which weve not-very-fondly called the red head army) in their full gear. I was wondering for a moment, who were their enemies of the day? The communist insurgents or the Al-Qaeda terrorists? No, their enemies were just the unarmed Malaysians from all walks of life marching for a just cause to demand for free and fair elections! Its living proof how much this nation of ours has descended to. Seeing the scores of brave, unselsh and patriotic Malaysians on the locked-down streets of Kuala Lumpur was a touching moment to behold. They were undeterred by the heavy downpour that greeted them at 2pm. Under my umbrella I was thinking, the heavy downpour must be a God-given help to the demonstrators to minimise the effects of chemical water and tear gas, reportedly red at their fellow demonstrators at various locations downtown! In many instances, I was moved to join in the crowd near the stadium compound, to march and scream along with them. You might be wondering, Arent you one of them? No, I was not. In fact, I was one of over a hundred monitors the Bar Council had called upon to volunteer for the dening event an event the authorities had warned cannot be mentioned by name or symbolised by its colour! Our duty was purely to monitor the situation, with a view to record any human rights violations by the police or any violence by the demonstrators, all without fear or favour. Abiding by the spirit of the Bar, I was as impartial as I could ever be. Heres briey what I observed during the time I was in and around the stadium compound from 12.30pm to 4.30pm. I witnessed two congregations of demonstrators at two different entrances to the stadium compound, both of which were barricaded by the police using barbwires. In contrast to other locations in the city, no tear gas or water cannons were used at all to disperse the crowd at the stadium compound though there was once when the FRU personnel looked like they were getting ready to re, presumably to intimidate the crowd. The crowd, though in high spirits, behaved peacefully and sensibly. There was not one occasion that I feared violence might possibly break out among the demonstrators.

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To my little surprise, I thought the police at the stadium compound acted and behaved reasonably well and professionally (contrary to their counterparts elsewhere in the city I was told). At least they allowed the crowd to assemble, and to shout and gesture whatever they wanted until they started to disperse on their own at 4pm. The police also allowed political speeches to be made by the likes of Chua Jui Meng, Husam Musa, etc and one high-ranking police ofcer also spoke gently and politely to National Laureate A. Samad Said. For the most part, I personally did not witness any clear violation of human rights by the police/FRU personnel but all that came to an abrupt end at 4.10pm, when they suddenly charged towards the remaining demonstrators without any warning! By that time, the remaining demonstrators were just hanging around taking picures, and chatting among themselves. This action by the police/FRU personnel was unprovoked and utterly unnecessary, considering the majority of the crowd had already dispersed, or in the midst of dispersing. After a while, I saw around six to eight demonstrators get arrested. But the good thing was the police did not beat up any of the arrested demonstrators, though they dragged the demonstrators in quite a high-handed manner. I must also add that all the BC monitors (and reporters/journalists) were allowed access into the stadium compound and literally had a free rein walking up and down the area. We were allowed to snap pictures without any restrictions whatsoever! The truth is, Malaysians are a peaceful lot. They deserve to exercise their Constitutional rights to assemble peacefully and responsibly. The freedom of expression and assembly is a fundamental right of every true democracy. Having free and fair elections is the essence of any state that aspires to be recognised as a truly democratic state. Why wouldnt our government allow its people to exercise their Constitutional rights but instead chose to clamp down hard on innocent Malaysians? Didnt our government realise by doing what they did in the past few weeks (well, one might say in the past three decades!), they were radically dismantling the very essence of democracy upon which our nation was founded almost 54 years ago!? The Most Honourable Prime Minister, isnt Malaysia a democratic state founded upon the principles of liberty and justice? Didnt you agree with the late Tunku who proclaimed that the Persekutuan Tanah Melayu shall be forever a sovereign, democratic and independent state founded upon the principles of liberty and justice, and ever seeking the welfare and happiness of its people and the maintenance of a just peace among all nations? Just as July 9, 2011, is a milestone for South Sudan, July 9, 2011, is another milestone for Malaysia in pursuit of being a true democracy. Our next milestone? Surely it ought to be our nations SECOND proclamation of independence post-GE 13! And where will it be? Where else but at Stadium MERDEKA

Ron CK Sim

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I am proud to be Malaysian
On Friday, after checking into the Swiss Garden Hotel at around 5pm, I sent an SMS to my good friend Kim which said: Just checked into the Swiss Garden Hotel for my second honeymoon. Going for a picnic tomorrow at 2pm at Stadium Merdeka. Please pray for all of us gathered there, that everything will be peaceful. When asked whether he wanted a room with single beds or one with a king-size bed, we were requested to check into the Residence after my husband asked for the latter. Later, we took a stroll down Bukit Bintang Road and I was rather surprised at how things have changed. I do go to Pavilion once in a while, but Ive not strolled down the street of Bukit Bintang since my varsity days back in the early Eighties. Its kind of sleazy now. Ive since told my kids not to go there on their own! After taking our dinner at the cafeteria in Lot 10, my husband and I went to Pavilion. After half an hour, we made our way back to the Residence. I was dead beat as Id been awake since 4am, leaving Malacca at 5am for KL, my second home. Since there would be a lockdown at 12.01am on Saturday, I had to get into the city before then, hence the necessity to book a room at the Swiss Garden. Just before I knocked off that Friday night, my husband read to me a posting on Haris Ibrahims blog about a 75-year-old Pak Mat who had to do what he thought was his duty despite pleas from his wife. My husbands voice quivered and it was choked with tears even before he reached the end. I think I fell into a slumber then, but my sleep was interrupted now and then by sirens somewhere in the background. The next morning, my daughter, who kept watch at our other home in TTDI, SMSed us to say that the Swiss Garden Hotel was among those hotels raided. She couldnt join us because she was on standby with the Urgent Arrest Team of lawyers. I had quite a good sleep, considering that I woke up only after 8am that Saturday morning when I usually am up and about after 6am on most days. We checked out at noon, then headed for Bukit Bintang again for our lunch. On our way to Lot 10 to use the washrooms, we saw the press and some burly Malay guys loitering around the shops opposite McDonalds. Most of them were sitting on the pavement outside shops that had closed for the day. That was around 1pm. We met a friends daughter who was there with a colleague. They were covering the event about to unfold, supposedly at Stadium Merdeka. We told her we would follow her. However, after a second visit to the washrooms, we lost her. Three patrol cars then came and lined up across the road facing McDonalds. A short distance away was a pick-up truck with guys on top of it. They were throwing red shirts with the word Patriot emblazoned across the front. Many Malay guys then went towards them from all directions, catching those shirts and putting them on. Some stall operators also went forward to collect the red shirts. I overheard someone saying that for the red shirts, they had police escorts but for the yellow shirts, they would be rounded up. I didnt see any patriots, just saw goons!

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After hearing hostile words blaring from a loudhailer, we decided not to follow this group. We then moved forward, stepped into a side lane to continue our journey. I prayed for direction as we moved along. We turned right and lo and behold, we saw a group walking towards us, but away from Stadium Merdeka. We crossed the road, stepped in line with them, not sure why we were heading in the opposite direction. I nudged my husband to ask someone where we were heading. A tall, bespectacled guy said: Dont ask me anything. I know you want to ask me something. That was quite funny. I wanted to laugh out loud but thought better of it. Another two guys were ahead of us. My husband approached the taller one who said: We are going to Dataran. The stadium was just a red herring. I thought that made sense. We exchanged pleasantries. The tall one asked us why we were there. My guess was we looked like tourists. I replied: Because Im a Christian. Both of them then shook our hands and said: We, too. I wanted to add: Because Im Malaysian and my fellow Malaysians shouldnt have to walk alone. I actually joined the Bersih for fair and free elections march out of a sense of guilt, especially after reading the holy book which reiterates this: Fear is a bad adviser; it turns cowards into violent people. God comes to the rescue of the person who confronts the crowd for Gods sake. The fear of acting is an insult to God. To me, not to join in this march of justice would be an affront to the God I love so much. To me, to just watch as others march for the truth would make me out to be a plain empty vessel, all talk and no action. To me, to let my fellow Malaysians shoulder this alone would be sheer irresponsibility on my part. I, too, am Malaysian, I told myself, and I can do this! So, I said to my husband: Lets march. Of course, he was game. He, too, loves God just as much if not more than me. He loves his fellow Malaysians, too. As we approached Hentian Puduraya, I saw my friends daughter again. She had been teargassed. The crowd was now going in the opposite direction, yet there was no panic. I saw a Malay boy rubbing his eyes. Both his eyes and face were inamed. I handed him a pack of tissues. He took a piece and returned the rest. I told him to keep it. That made him smile. Later, as calm set in, we started to move towards Hentian Puduraya again. This time, with me was a kakak from Penang. We struck up a conversation. She said: Kita tidak boleh berundur. Dia orang tak tau kita betapa susah. To which, my husband replied: Saya tau, saya boleh nampak. Kakak is in her sixties. She walked slowly, aided by her daughter at her side. There was also a regal-looking Chinese man behind me. He limped along with a walking stick. He could easily have been 70, yet he was unaccompanied. Their courage put me to shame. Kakak was really cute. When Dr Tan Seng Giaw came, she nudged me aside. She wanted to shake his hands. She was blind, colour- blind! I lost sight of kakak after a series of teargassing. I even lost my handphone, while running away from my fourth or so shot of tear gas.

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It was a disaster waiting to happen. I was texting and updating my kids and my friend Kim now and then. While my husband did the shouting, I texted. At the foot of the slope below Tung Shin Hospital was a small compound where we took a breather. Before that we were tear-gassed left and right. That was when some of us ran towards the hospital. Someone shouted to us to just run through and not stop. I prayed like crazy. I pulled my cap down, covering my eyes as I ran, beside my husband. We decided to leave a bag of supplies back at the Residence when we read that police were checking backpacks. So, we were without towels and salt but we had water. The pain was sharp but momentary. My husband remarked that my eyes werent so bad. That was when a young Malay man offered my husband some salt. I took a pinch though the pain had somewhat subsided. We saw an old Malay man beside the young man. He was rubbing his eyes with a towel. Both of them had really inamed eyes and faces. My husband poured water onto the old mans towel, then gave the young man the bottle. He washed his eyes and face, then returned the bottle to me. I told him to keep it. He asked: Auntie, bagaimana? I told him I still have another bottle, so it was OK. Then another tear gas attack came. We had nowhere else to run to except up the slope into the hospital. It was still raining and the slope was slippery. However, two knights in shining armour in the guise of a Malay man and an Indian were at the top of the slope to help us up. We went into the hospital where we managed to use their washrooms. We hung around in their waiting lounge for a while and decided it was not safe to remain there, too. As we were leaving Tung Shin, we saw Irene Fernandez, seated in her wheelchair, surrounded by ve youths. We asked if she was OK, to which a girl laughingly said she was better than the rest of them. Irene was smiling throughout. Nothing was going to get her down! My husband cautioned them to move along and not be the last one to remain behind. We watched from the balcony when someone shouted it was all right now to go down. They, as the police and the leaders of the movement, were negotiating. So down we went. At that point, we were at the junction where a lane to the left led to the Church of St Anthony. Some young boys opted to sit down on the road while they negotiated. Then we were told to occupy only one lane, the one further away from the hospital. We were told the police would let us through if we did that. So, we happily obeyed and even sang the NegaraKu. At all times, we obeyed. When it was calm, we were told to move slowly, which we did. When someone shouted something out of the norm, we were told not to aggravate, to which the shouting ceased. We were well-behaved, all of us were. After a good 10 minutes of waiting, I heard a young Malay man say: "Jangan-jangan kita ditipu lagi. Mereka selalu menipu! So young and so disillusioned! I felt almost sorry for him. Wheres Perkasa now? This young Malay man surely does not believe hes a Tuan. He has no faith in those purportedly ghting for his interests. Hes so lost! To my left, another two young Malay men washed their faces, then, rolled out their mats to pray. I, too, said a little prayer, that God will protect His little ones from all evil and harm. Suddenly, we saw water gushing towards us. They were ring chemical water at us.

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Like the tear gas, this water was targeted directly at us. They meant to hurt. How could they? As we ran towards St Anthonys, I saw another two young Malay men kneeling down to pray on my right. They would not know what hit them. Poor guys! My husband told me then, when you write about this, dont forget to say that our government betrayed us! He was rather emotional when he said that, was rather angry, too. As for me, I felt really sad. I make it a point to remind my kids now and then, to always forgive others; to always give them more than a second chance. I believe that everyone deserves more than a second chance. I dont know if he would throw me a punch at me if I said that, then! Guess things dont always work that way. At the gate of St Anthonys, the caretaker was already unlocking the gate for us. He ushered us to the back gate to escape. On the way, we saw a grotto where we stopped to pray and asked Mother Mary to intercede for us to her Son for protection. We had to cross over a 2ft-high brick fencing to get to the back gate to escape. I heard a loud thud. Someone had fallen. It was my beloved husband. Running away from tear gas and water cannons was a breeze for him but he had to fall as we strolled through the church. The rest of the people there were shocked but not me. I had to stie my urge to laugh because it was just like him to be injured over silly stunts. He jokingly wanted to shout: Police brutality! I had to shut him up. We were already laughing for I knew we were already safe. How can we not be safe in the house of God? By the way, my husbands right cheek, elbow and shin now bear some scratches due to that fall. Hes telling his friends that it was all worth it and that he would gladly go through it all over again. It took us another three minutes to reach our hotel. In fact the whole charade happened just down the road. It was about 4pm then. We changed, logged onto the Net to see what was happening elsewhere when suddenly the police in front of the hotel dispersed. We went across the road to get some drinks from the 168 store. They had run out of Coke. A Malay man overheard us telling each other to go to the mamak shop instead. He told us they were sold out, too. He, then, added that business was brisk and could have been better. He disputed the governments version of how business could have been badly affected by the gathering at the stadium. Honestly, that was how I saw it, too. Had we been allowed to picnic on the Stadium Merdeka grounds, how can business in the city not be better? We would have to buy our stuff from the stores here, in Bukit Bintang Road. Business would have been roaring! This was my inaugural march, it will not be my last. I wasnt paid to go. I guess thats why the red shirts show zzled out. Perhaps there wasnt enough money thrown around? Like I said, I wasnt paid to go. I paid a lot to go. Someone paid with his life. He, you goons in the government, is the patriot youll never be. You goons now stand responsible for his death. I am proud to be Malaysian because of someone like Baharuddin Ahmad. Though words cannot describe your loss, my dear Rosni Malan, your beloved husbands death will not be in vain.

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You and your family will be richly blessed for generations to come because of his seless love for his country. He died for his country, he died for a stab at free and fair elections. Like I said, he will not die in vain. We, the rest of us, will see to that. I am not just proud to be Malaysian. More than that, Im truly proud of my fellow Malaysians. May God bless you all.

May Chee Chook Ying

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Bersih 2.0 bersihed me!

As I headed for the LRT station to enter the city on the morning of July 9, I was both fearful and determined fearful that a May 13 type violence would erupt, and afraid of being arrested. Yet, I was determined to break this shroud of fear that had gained intensity over the last two weeks from reading the newspapers, watching television and listening to coffeeshop talk. I nervously joined a predominantly Malay group outside the KTM building. From those whom I glanced at a bit longer, I received courteous smiles. I soon started to join them in shouting Hidup Rakyat or Hidup Bersih and punching the air as we strolled along. When they shouted calling upon Allah, I suddenly became conscious of the present controversy concerning the use of the word by non-Muslims, reducing my voice to a murmur. As we approached Dataran Merdeka, our path was blocked by the police. We were told to sit down on the road, women and children included. Someone started singing, Negara ku then we all joined in. Despite my 27 years service in the nations Armed Forces, I never felt so close to Malaysia, my country as at that moment then the dreadful bell on the top of the FRU vehicle rang, followed by what sounded like gun shots. They were ring tear gas into the crowd! Completely unprepared and shocked, I was overcome by the painful and nauseating gas. We scrambled and I managed to move to a corner. A Malay man handed me bits of salt and others shared their water with me. The group retreated towards Dayabumi, and as I joined them, visibly shaken, I was frequently asked, Uncle OK? by smiling young Malay lads. Our march through the Chinatown area was another eye opener. As we passed a Chinese eating shop, the crowd which by then included a number of non-Malays, waved invitingly to the customers asking them to, Mari sama-sama! At an Indian stall by the roadside, they crowded to buy water; a far cry from the violent, rioting mob that we were told to expect! The way to Merdeka Stadium was blocked. As the now enlarged crowd retreated through the Chinatown area, we were again attacked by the FRU with tear gas. We scrambled and nally ended up in front of Puduraya, joining a much larger crowd with more non-Malays present. Once again, the police red tear gas and shot their water cannon at the crowd. The crowd then regrouped and headed towards KLCC. It was nearly an hour before the police nally came and did their thing again. By then, the order to bersurai was passed around; the rakyat had done their job! In all, I spent about ve hours marching with a largely predominantly Malay crowd. I was soaked and tear-gassed, but in the end I felt liberated, happy and grateful to God! Never have I seen the Malays so passionate about their cause, yet so gentle and mild-mannered under such trying conditions. They were nowhere like the racially-incited, hate-ridden, property destroying kumpulan jahat that we were told to expect denitely not in the crowd that I had the privilege to walk with that day! The non-Malays who were there must be commended equally for their belief and

conviction, and for their faith in a mature Malaysian society. The policemen whom I spoke to were surprisingly good-natured in spite of the long hours they had been on duty, some

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expressing concern for my safety. The order to re tear gas at fellow Malaysians came from the top.

Lt Col (R) Aw Yong Tian Teck

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When the ordinary became extraordinary

Im as ordinary as it gets. I live in a decent-sized condo, in a fairly popular middle-upper class neighbourhood. I married my husband in my early 30s. Ive got a decent job in a well-regarded private corporation, where Im middle management. No children just yet but were trying for the average number of two. On the weekends, we do what most Malaysians in our circumstances might do head to the cinema, have a meal at one of KLs many malls, catch up with family and friends. Recently, I had to answer a little prole write-up for work. When asked whats your biggest achievement?, I could think of nothing Id done so far that qualied. Yes, Im that ordinary. This ordinary Malaysian grew up in a normal household. My father was a university lecturer, my mother a secondary school teacher. We werent poor, nor were we rich. Luckily for me, my parents watched their money and saved enough to send me to a good university in the US. They were also fairly staunch Opposition supporters and I grew up apathetic about our government. I came back after several years away to take care of a sick father. He passed on, I ended up staying. Though I disliked how there was increasing afrmative action for the majority race, it didnt affect me enough to leave. I got a pretty good job, and my life was comfortable. I even keel. Several years ago, just before the 2008 political tsunami, things began to change. I felt more and more upset as I saw my younger sister top scorer, award-winning athlete, board of prefects, captain of her house being passed over again and again for any sort of educational aid, because we werent the right race. And it got worse. Church burnings, the cow head incident, being told that as a Christian I couldnt use the word Allah. I got more and more angry. And I wanted to talk about it. But I was told by all the powers that be that it wasnt in our culture to voice dissent or question any sensitive issue. In this multi-cultural nation, its amazing that we can claim theres a single type of culture arent our differences in culture and way of life precisely what we sell to the tourists? But I was still angry, so Id complain, although only to family members or friends who I knew for a fact had the same opinions as me. Like many Malaysians, I complained about everything the rise in crime, the lowering education standards, the racist statements of some quarters in government, the inability of the Opposition leaders to see eye-to-eye. I complained all the time. But I didnt do anything about it. Just like most people. After all, what could I do? It would be too much effort anyway. And then Bersih 2.0 came along, and I suddenly felt this need to take action. I knew this was the moment to do more than just complain. So I decided I wanted to be a part of it. Was I worried? Heck, yeah! Even up to the morning of July 9th, a part of me was hoping the rally would be cancelled or that my mum would be worried enough by our governments intimidation tactics to ask me not to go. Neither happened. With a small group of friends (two Eurasians, one Chinese, two Indians, a Muslim East Malaysian yes, we were 1 Malaysia!), we braved the police at our rst LRT made sure I kept myself minimally informed of politics and the development of our country because it made no difference to me and would only upset my

36

stop at Taman Bahagia, then at KL Sentral, and at the entrance to Stadium Merdeka, at Dataran Maybank, and nally at Pudu. We faced a stand-off where we were red at in the compound of Tung Shin hospital (yes, our Health Minister and top cop are both blatant liars). We were trapped by FRU trucks on both ends of the street but nally found a side alley to escape to. I was terried throughout the ordeal, knowing and seeing rst-hand how our police cared little for the safety of the peaceful, innocent supporters. But it was worth it. Because for the rst time in my life, I felt like a real Malaysian. For the rst time in my life, I felt united with my fellow citizens regardless of race, religion, age, gender or where we came from. For the rst time in my life, I felt I was part of something bigger. For the rst time in my life, I could nally answer the question of what my biggest achievement was: it was to be united with tens of thousands of men and women, in spite of our physical differences, because we held a common belief. Was it a life-changing experience? It certainly was. Will it be enough to bring about the changes in elections and in the way things are run that we want? I cant say for sure. But I do know that this ordinary Malaysian is humbled by the many other ordinary Malaysians who believe in something better. And who will stand up for our rights no matter the potential price, but always in a peaceful manner. Ive never been prouder to be simply Malaysian.

Scuba gal

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Truth is inconvenient
Its the rst time in my life I joined a demonstration. Do I like demos? No way. Was I scared? Of course; its no walk in the park, picnic on the grass; you know what to expect when it has been declared illegal and everyone is being warned by everyone else from the King to the church to well-meaning friends to stay home and be safe. Actually that was what I intended to do as a law-abiding citizen and obedient sheep; at least it was until I was challenged by my own children with certain thought-provoking questions like... Ma, where would the world be if Martin Luther King just prayed and didnt march? Ma, where were the Christians when six million Jews were systematically led to slaughter by an evil dictator? And this nal shot from my teenager son, Ma, you know, even Malayan Union got march for independence? (well, at least hes studying something right for SPM!) And I recalled myself, didnt Jesus cause demos everywhere He went demos of Gods power, grace, love, healing? Didnt the early church turn the whole world upside down? all for a cause greater than themselves. Still I dithered, because I didnt really want to get involved in this messy business of demos; I was already guring how inconvenient it would be; trying to get past road blocks, maybe having to walk a long walk into the city centre, besides what purpose would all that noise and clatter serve, not to mention the risks involved... well, again it took my kid to pointedly tell me off (nicely) whether or not the demo gets results isnt the point, Ma. It is simply whether you choose to make your stand in support of it. I guess its like voting its your choice; even if the one you chose didnt win, its ok, you made your choice to vote this or that person because of the ideals he/she represents. So theres that all-important word choices. My kid asked me what made me change my mind last minute to join a rabble (read rebel) crowd. I guess the nal straw was when I was told our weekly street-feeding for the poor/homeless had to called off because the food couldnt be brought in due to the road blocks all over the place. And thats when something clicked inside. I felt angry, angry at all the things that are happening in this land. Everyone knows, everyone complains, there are tonnes of emails oating around on all kinds of stuff which we shake our heads at and yes, certainly pray over. An email sent to me said to pray for good sense to prevail. Of course we are to pray. Duh. Well, thats ne and good; only problem is you can only talk good sense to people who will listen to good sense. At the end of the day, i had to answer myself 1 question: if I believed in justice and righteousness for all, how much am I willing to show it? Some friends smsed me that I was very brave to go out there, when I asked for prayer support for my family. My reply is I am not brave. Its just that there comes a time in everyones life when each of us have to make a choice about the things we say we believe in thats a very personal decision. Well, my day had come. So I found myself smack in the midst of a crowd of Idunno-how-many thousands, marching along with them on July 9, 2011. A day that will forever be etched in my memory.... A day when I saw total strangers of all ages, races and religions gathered under the skies and facing a big red monster truck ring tear gas just because the crowd was formidable

38

in size. There were entire families, people from same kampungs, from outstation states, even someone on a wheel-chair. And it was total strangers who went all out to help one another, without any qualms or calls needed. When the tear gas started, and some took shelter in a car park, a man opened up the rehose reel there and sprayed water over everyone to wash away the sting. When people had to run into the bushes surrounding a private hospital, everyone was extending hands to each other to haul and push each other up the slippery slopes. With the authorities chasing us all the way into a church compound, somebody opened up the back gate for people to climb over. Someone offered me salt to ease the throat. Another was handing out zip-lock bags, telling me Aunty, better keep your hand-phone inside this, if not get wet by the rain. Still another old man offered to share his umbrella with me. This is 1 Malaysia in action, no need for words or banners to proclaim it. But what shamed me personally was a non-Christian group who spontaneously started a prayer meeting in the heavy rain. I watched as people just stepped out from their shelters and ran to join them in the open. Was there violence? Yes tear gas, water cannons. That was about the only actual violence I saw in my group (I cant say what happened to other groups spread all over, because of the blockades which separated us). But well, if you want to call making lots of noise and chants and singing Negara Ku and shouting Daulat Tuanku several times violence, I guess we were pretty violent. My group didnt have any famous faces to lead us, but whoever was shouting instructions we obeyed so obediently we sat when told to sit on the road, we walked when told to walk, regrouped when told to regroup. (Of course, we didnt need to be told when to run), so wheres the violence? In fact when someone got a little bit too enthusiastic and started running down to the truck which was parked in front of us on the road, people were shouting at him to come back and not provoke the authorities. Violence? Quite the opposite, there were some very happy people that day the mamak stall-operators, McDs and 7-Eleven stores which dared to stay open they were doing roaring business; did anyone bother to interview them about loss of income caused by rioters? Did they get looted? Was there inconvenience? Of course. So we can put up with all sorts of trafc jams every normal day of our lives and for this one day we say we are so very inconvenienced? The funniest thing is when we wanted to disperse, we couldnt! Talk about deliberate inconvenience. By 4pm, most of us were tired, and all we wanted to do was go home and take a bath after being pelted with tear gas and soaked to the skin by rain. Someone was asking like a typical Malaysian, where got makan arr? Yet there was still that big red bully truck monster hogging the road, and they were not allowing anyone who looked Malaysian through the barricades. So unless we suddenly grew blond hair and blue eyes, we were stuck. I approached a policeman and asked if I could just walk through alone. He was very nice and said yes, so hurray, off I trooped only to be stopped two minutes later further down the road and turned back with a very sarcastic, You orang buat kecoh, sekarang tahu rasa kecoh lah.

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Geez, what a sour lemon. So I had to take a very very long and roundabout way back to the LRT station, only to nd it closed. Great... now all those who simply want to call it a day cant get out of KL! I am still wondering, hey, man, whats the logic? I thought the idea was not to let people gather around in illegal assemblies; yet what do you expect people to do if you stop or hinder the very means thats meant to disperse them? you get illegal assemblies at the LRT and bus stations some more lah! To be fair though, I have to tabik the police for being even-handed with all the opposing sides involved. Was there politics? Of course. But surely whether we like it or not, politics is politics. And surely concepts like justice and righteousness dont exist in a vacuum. There is supposed to be justice and righteousness in politics, in economics, in social affairs, even in private affairs; in fact they are meant to work in the very fabric of human life, isnt it? So how can we divorce these ideals from the realities of life? And I guess thats what I joined the rally for to make my stand for ideals which are surely God-ordained for all of humankind. Others may join the rally for different reasons, rightly or wrongly, but thats not my concern. Was it worth it? Yes. Being there on the spot exposed the falsity of many of my (our) facile assumptions. What has been manipulated into our psyche is the threat of what-couldhappen. And I realised, hey, its all hyped-up the threat turned out as unfounded shadows. As it goes, from the behaviour of the crowd, if only they had been allowed to make their noises in a stadium, all the inconveniences could have been so much reduced and bettercontrolled. Unfortunately we have been ingrained to fear violence, we assume all strife = violence and violence = bad. Therefore, we will not get involved in any strife situation; we will pray for peace. Yet what is peace? As someone puts it, Peace is not the absence of strife. Jesus, the Prince of Peace, slept in the midst of a terrible storm thats peace, even though strife was all around Him. At the height of it all, when people were running all over, and tear gas was stinging my eyes and throat, and I was wondering what if I get arrested, what if I get trampled in this rush? I had Gods peace. I faced the fear by His grace, and survived it. So did my children, though we were never together at all. My eldest was up close and personal to the front-line action, doing her reporters beat, tweeting real-time reports into her ofce. My No.2 didnt even want to go with me. Ended up she had to walk all the way from/back to Sentral. (Hey, thats still better than the woman who walked from Mid Valley!) I got back home, nally after they opened back the LRT at about 5.15pm. None the worse for wear and tear, thank God, except for achy achy feet. Looking back, I think perhaps above all, this experience is for me, a test of how prepared I will be when the day comes when God calls me to give up my life literally (not guratively) for a bigger cause than myself, would I still balk at being inconvenienced? Would I choose to be safe than run risks for Gods sake?? Ahh, million dollar question. I think I am better prepared to answer it after July 9 2011.

Christine SK Lai

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I Was There
I was there, and no matter what the Malaysian government says from their ownership of a vast majority of the mainstream media, down to the insensitive and/or untrue (mostly both) statements made by ministers or the Polis Di Raja Malaysia (Royal Malaysian Police or PDRM) no matter how much they want to deny what happened in Kuala Lumpur (KL) on Saturday, July 9th, 2011, they cannot deny my words. I was there. I was there from the rst Light Rail Transit (LRT) train in the morning at 6am, travelling and watching the clear roads, where there was hardly any trafc due to aggressive road closures enforced by the PDRM. At the last station, I got down to have breakfast, and bought a copy of the New Straits Times,The Star and Utusan Malaysia. I was there. I was there fuming, and trying hard to control my anger, at the blatantly one-sided depiction of the scope of events leading to July 9th. At how Bersih, a coalition of NGOs who wished to send a list of suggestions for freer and fairer elections to the supreme head of the country, was demonised by the mainstream government. I was there. I was there on the train again at 8.30am heading back home, planning to leave again for the hotspots around noon. On the train, I met up with the LRT security guards whom I have known over the past 13 years from riding the LRT almost everyday. They were dressed in their Polis Bantuan (Auxiliary Police) uniforms. I chatted with them, and held my tongue when I discovered to my shock that they were sincerely against the gathering, and that the police were merely keeping the peace instead of threatening a peaceful group with arrests and implicit manhandling. I wished them well as they got off at their designated stations, and continued the journey home. I was there. I was there back at Wangsa Maju in record time as the trains ran at better-than-peak-hour efciency. I promptly went to the cybercaf to read what the independent Internet media had to stay, as well as follow the progress on Twitter. At around 11.20, I walked back home, bathed again and went back out on the LRT. I headed out back to KL, and saw the huge gathering of people outside the old train station. Alighting at KL Sentral, I purchased a small bottle of water, which proved to be very useful later on. Stopping for lunch at the YMCA all the while observing a small but very steady stream of people walking towards Jalan Petaling I made my way towards the same venue at 1pm. I was there.

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I was there when a virtually-unbroken line of people a kilometre long made its slow but steady way towards Stadium Merdeka. Despite a small but very vocal number of active agitators, the line was quiet and dignied, with occasional bouts of cheers. I walked from Brickelds towards the train station, then the main post ofce and crossing over to the Pasar Seni LRT station, which had already been shut down. I was there. I was there amongst the crowd that moved from Petaling Street towards Jalan Pudu, bumping into my friends from work. I was not there as a worker though, even though I would have been within my rights to be there as the journalist that I am. Lack of support from my editor-in-chief was the reason why I was not there as a reporter on the scene. But I was there, as a citizen of Malaysia, which was the only justication I needed. I was there. I was there when Malaysians of all colours and ages walked peacefully towards the Puduraya Bus Station, and I was there as we all revelled in the fact that there were denitely more than 20,000 people standing all around on the roads, in and around the bus station and Menara Maybank itself. I was there at 1.50pm when I met James Pollard, a British tourist from Bristol who was wondering what was going on. And as I gave him a continuous explanation, the Federal Reserve Unit (FRU) brought out water-cannons (laced with chemical irritants and not just harmless water) as well as the CS tear gas ries, shooting both at the crowd. A small police force started running and catching people, kicking and beating some of those they caught in broad daylight. I was there. I was there as the crowd managed to push back the FRU for a moment before making its ways down Jalan Pudu to inch towards the stadium. James and I moved towards the bus station and rose up the ramp to get an elevated view. That was when the FRU decided to re the tear gas above at the unarmed and non-participating spectators in short, the innocent bystanders. I was there. I was there when I got hit by tear gas for the rst time in my life. It was excruciating in a manner beyond mere words; the skin and the eyes burn and sear, as does the nose and throat, producing coughing that only serves to make the victim inhale even more irritants. I was racked in pain, unable to do anything but struggle to breathe and vomit. A concerned citizen tried to give me some salt to counter the effects, but I was too much in pain and discomfort to want it even though I knew it would help. It took a while, but the effects wore off, leaving me weak and feeling wretched.

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I was there. I was there when all my fellow Malaysians showed concern for one another, helping each other, not a single of whom were shouting or behaving in a manner betting of hooligans. So unlike the police, strutting arrogantly with their weapons and numbers which were puny compared to the crowd, shouting insults and belittling the very people they had supposedly been sworn to protect and serve. I was there. I was there when they confronted the people who sat on the road, with nary a weapon of any sort in their hands. They only used their voices, and even then it was merely a wall of cheers and vocalisations. I saw it all from the overhead pedestrian bridge of the bus station when they red tear gas again into the seated crowd. Another British friend I had made, Sam Franklin, got footage of the whole scene. Of course, being at the scene meant that in the rush to escape the gas, I got stuck, and got another stronger blast of the CS gas. It was even worse the second time around, due to the higher concentration. But again, I survived. I was there. I was there down on the street with James and Sam when there was a nal ceasere, and the MP for Subang R Sivarasa was negotiating with the police. And we then moved off to get a drink and recuperate and therefore missed the Tung Shin hospital incident, which was reported brilliantly by my work colleague and friend, Max Koh. I have never been prouder of a friend than I am of Max for his concise, excellent account of what happened. This article is not meant to compete with his account but I am the rst to admit that it can never compete with its brilliance. I was there. I was there with my new-found friends who later took me back to their hostel to recover with James; Sam; Kaya from Taiwan; Mike OConnor from New Zealand; Tay Franssens from Holland; and Ben Quigley from the USA and I sat down with them as they watched Sams videos, and answered their questions as best as I could. And I told them not to just take my word for it, but to ask around. They did and all agreed that even the contrary points of view (of which there were many, either from the police forces or from ordinary Malaysians, who for some reason did not understand nor support the Bersih movement) reinforced what I had told them. And reinforced what they had seen. I wasnt there for some things. I wasnt there when the deputy inspector-general of police denied that the Tung Shin Hospital compound was both attacked with tear gas and sprayed on with the chemical water,

43

despite photos and videos to the contrary already up online. And I certainly wasnt there when the Prime Minister of Malaysia Mohd Najib Abdul Razak made fun of people who were weaklings for their reaction to a little tear gas. Most denitely, I wasnt there because if I was, I would have spit at him. But I was there. I was there that day, on the ground where brute force was used to subdue peaceful citizens who had every right to be in the capital city. Mohd Najib, where were you? You and your wife were out being wined and dined the whole day in luxurious comfort, as you always have been. And you have the audacity to speak about and belittle things that you obviously do not know about. Well, I was there. I was there, and I survived. You who call yourself a pemimpin (leader, literally one who guides) are not t to pimpin me or any one of us anymore. And so I say that I am determined to continue ghting the good ght for freedom, truth, fairness and equality even if it kills me. As the great Mahatma Gandhi once said: They may torture my body, break my bones, even kill me, then they will have my dead body. NOT MY OBEDIENCE! and the same goes for me. As the old and beautiful song Tanah Pusaka goes: Biar putih tulang, jangan putih mata. (Literally Better to show that your bones are white, better not that show that your eyes are white, ie Tis better to be dead than to be willingly blind) You can take away almost anything from me but you can never take away my dignity. I was there. And I am still here.

Ahmad Azrai

44

Lady of Liberty at Bersih march draws online support

Quiet has settled over Saturdays chaos but one image is still making waves on the Internet the picture of an elderly woman in yellow, drenched in rain and chemical-laced water, walking away from riot police while clutching on to a long-stemmed ower and a nearempty mineral water bottle.

She is Annie Ooi, a 65-year-old retired English teacher who took a bus from Setapak in the early morning of July 9 to join thousands of others in Bersih 2.0s march for free and fair elections. An unknown man had offered her the ower in the morning and she waved it like a ag throughout the four-hour march. Netizens have dubbed her Aunty Bersih, and even Malaysias Lady of Liberty, for placing her health and safety at risk to join a march the government had declared illegal. Pictures of the diminutive Ooi strolling in the war zone that Kuala Lumpur had turned into are all over the Internet, inviting messages of awe and wonderment from netizens across the country. On Facebook, at least three fan pages were set up in dedication to Ooi immediately after the event. One page called Malaysian Lady of Liberty attracted 17,176 likes as of 9am this morning. Ooi was one of the few who dared to turn up in yellow to mark the occasion, despite earlier warnings that those with clothes indicating support for the outlawed Bersih 2.0 coalition would be arrested. Speaking to The Malaysian Insider through her daughter over Facebook chat last night, Ooi conrmed that she had been tear gassed four times and sprayed with the water cannon once during Saturdays pandemonium. She said she was unsure of what time the rally was scheduled to start or where, but was determined to support its cause by participating in it even if she had to do it alone. She took the bus to General Hospital because the roads into town were blocked, her daughter related. She walked to Chow Kit, Maju Junction, went into the back lane of Little India to pass Masjid Jamek, avoiding cops, heading to National Mosque but was stopped at Dayabumi. There, Ooi was interviewed by one uniformed policeman and four others in plainclothes. They asked for her IC and recorded her details, then asked her why she was dressed in yellow. Why cant I wear yellow? she asked in return. According to a post by a blogger who claimed to have spoken to Ooi before the march began, the feisty retiree had asked other protesters why they did not turn up in yellow as well. Why do we have to feel so scared in our own home land . . . and by own countrymen, she had reportedly said. A newbie at street protests, Ooi also did not know what to do in the event that she got gassed, and had not brought anything to protect herself, her daughter said.

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She wasnt prepared for any of the attacks, her daughter said. She went without protection; no goggles, no masks, no salt, nothing. It was horrible . . . the coughing, and didnt know how to stop the discomfort and pain. After the second gassing, she was offered salt by someone and it helped a lot. Despite this, eyewitnesses claimed on the internet that Ooi had marched on determinedly during the protest and despite the chaos, even yelled at others not to run. When told to ask her mother if she would dare to brave another march for the same cause, her daughter said, quoting Ooi, Without a doubt. There was a very strong oneness in spirit which she had never felt before in this country, added the daughter again quoting Ooi. Especially from the younger generation which have their years ahead of them yet marched on despite the possibility of ruining their lives by getting arrested. Ooi was among the thousands of protesters who took to the streets of Kuala Lumpur on Saturday to march in support of Bersih 2.0s demand for electoral reforms. More than a thousand people were arrested, and chaos broke out at midday after the police red tear gas canisters and sprayed water cannons to break up the crowd.

Clara Chooi

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Lessons learnt in a walk with friends

Like all others who came alone for Saturdays Bersih rally, I found that I neednt have worried. In the confusion and chaos with each blinding onslaught, we reached out and found each other. The strong supported the overcome, the sighted helped the blinded and in the fog of it all, we were one. If anything, the rally brought to light that our lives, whatever our race may be, are interconnected. Malaysia is woven of the different strands, where in the tapestry of our destiny and shared experience, there can inevitably be only one outcome. For those who wanted to make Bersih about the Malays and the non-Malays, they were misguided. Out on that day, as we walked alongside, we knew that it was the system and the proponents of such a system, not the people who had divided us. Bigotry, ignorance and fear were all the result of the policy of systemic indoctrination all learnt states of mind. How can we lay blame when we were brought up to believe in nothing else? For those who believed that Bersih was about Anwar, they were mistaken. Unwavering faith in our ability to prevail -- that is bigger than any one individual. The rakyat walked as one because we realize that this nation is more than any hero or idol, or martyr who champions the cause for justice, and true liberty. They may be focal points initially, but ultimately, these ideals are the hallmark of any true democracy and free nation. And by God, Malaysians deserve this! For those who argued that Bersih was about BN and PR, they were wrong. Political parties wax and wane but the rakyat remain. Our personal investments by being responsible and productive citizens of this nation and the hopes for a better future for our children remain steadfast in the vagaries of change. For those who were absent, driven back by the psychological warfare preceding the event, we were your representatives from both political divides as we share the same hopes for a progressive and truly democratic nation. For those who contended that anarchy would supplant peace, they were erroneous. How could there be anarchy when there was nothing but comradeship? We took heart in the genuine concern shown as we cared for each other; we are indignant for those who were brutally assaulted and injured; and we grieve for the one man fallen. Pak Baharuddin paid with his life and the rakyat mourns the loss of one of us. But, there is also jubilation. For the rst time in my life, I felt that I belonged. That although she doesnt show it often enough, Malaysia loves me. 1 Malaysia? Vision 2020? These slogans are cheap, but the love is real. I believe it now. Thank you to everyone who walked and to those who supported us. I thought I walked for change but instead it changed me.

Sheila Santharamohana

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I was afraid, therefore I walked

I almost didnt make it. But I went. The week leading up to the Bersih 2.0 rally on July 9th, I was like most of my friends; poked fun at the BN governments decision to ban yellow outts and Bersih T-shirts on my Facebook, changed my prole picture to a bright yellow Sponge Bob, showing my support to Bersih online. But it was all talk only. Although I was angry with the highhandedness of the government in handling the Bersih rally, I never really thought about going. Didnt go the last Bersih rally either. Not that I was afraid (the May 13th thing doesnt scare me a bit, it only infuriates me), or didnt agree with the principle of the Bersih rally (especially after what had happened in the Sarawak election, I am all for the Bersih principles), I just thought there would be enough people going; the NGOs, the activists, the politicians. After all, I am but just one person. Although a political science graduate myself, I was never an activist. For the most part I am a tax-paying, law-abiding citizen (I dont even offer bribes to the police ofcer for trafc offences). Besides, I had to do my laundry, my grocery, spend quality time with my four-year-old boy, and I wouldnt want to get caught in the trafc jam which is the last thing you want on a weekend. But on the Wednesday before the rally, as a result of excessive roadblocks by the very paranoid police and the administration, I ended up sitting in a massive jam cursing the government and then I thought about Ibrahim Alis racist threat and remarks, and all of a sudden, I also became very upset with the fact that I was denied the right to wear yellow even though the only yellow item I have in my entire wardrobe is a tiny yellow belt. By then, I was seriously thinking about making my way through the trafc to join the rally on July 9th. On Friday, just a day before the rally, I realised I did not have to worry about getting caught in the trafc because all roads leading to Merdeka Stadium would be blocked. So instead of risk getting caught in a jam, it was worse, no access to town. I had to gure a way to get to town. So, once again, I was back to contemplating, to go or not to go, because I really dont know how to get to town without a car or a taxi which is the only means of publictransportation that I am familiar with. The whole night I was mad and frustrated, how can the government stop me or any Malaysian from moving freely within our own country? How can they stop me from wearing yellow? How can they let Ibrahim Ali go free with all the threats? And the arrests, so uncalled for. And then I became worried, I worried about an aborted rally because no one could make it to town. If not enough of people are going, who is going to speak up for me? That was the moment I knew I had to go, I had to help make up for the number however little my presence may represent, I had to speak up for myself and my family. I had to help build a bigger voice demanding a clean election, so that my voice can be heard through my vote for years to come. So it was the fear that got me going. I walked not because of my little yellow belt, not because of Ibrahim Ali (well, a little bit), I walked because I feared that the intimidation

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from the government would silence the very people I relied upon to speak up for me. The fear of not being heard pushed me to the rally, even if it was just me walking alone in town. On July 9th, I went despite not knowing how to get there. What they say is true, where there is a will there is a way. Somehow I managed my way to Tung Shin and what a relief when I saw so many people of different gender, religion, ethnicity, age were at the rally. All my fears were gone, and whatever happened on that day only made me a stronger person. To the people who instill fear in me, thank you, thank you for releasing all the courage that I never knew I had. I am now fearless because of you.

Celine Yong

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Was it worth it?

It has been 12 days since I have seen my wife, my son (who has just turned three) and my one-month-old daughter, sweet little Lana girl. If I dont go down to see them this weekend, I will not see them for at least another week. Three days ago my wife and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary, whilst we were apart. I had a choice to go back to Penang and be with them for the weekend, but instead, I chose to go down to Kuala Lumpur to support Bersih 2.0. I arrived in KLIA at about 10.30am. The airport looked eerily deserted. As I travelled light, I literally ran to get an ERL ticket and jumped onto the train. As my excitement grew, I looked around to see KL as a ghost town. Even on Hari Raya holidays, youll see more cars on the Sungei Besi Highway compared to this particular Saturday. Walking out from KL Sentral, I was shocked to see a huge presence of FRU units and police. I assumed this was to manage possible demonstrators who might alight in KL Sentral and walk towards Masjid Negara. I proceed to my hotel, which was just across from KL Sentral. Coming out from the elevator I was greeted by two cops who were stationed there. I told them I was there to check in and they let me pass. I did notice more police in the lobby but I was still navely thinking that they were only there for general safety. I checked in, went to my room and changed into something more comfortable, (not the ofcial T-shirt though) and walked back to KL Sentral. I was surprised when I was still managed to get a ticket to Masjid Jamek. As soon as I was in Masjid Jamek LRT station, I could feel the atmosphere. The party was denitely ON. I remember thinking to myself that being alone may not help at all. Thus, I sought a group to join. Within ve minutes, I noticed a crowd of about 30 people gathering at the junction of Amanah Rakyat Building. As I joined them the leader started to give a speech. A journalist told me it was Dr Hatta Ramli from PAS who was giving the speech and he would lead this group to Stadium Merdeka. We managed to walk to Menara Maybank without any trouble. By now the group size had grown to the hundreds, as we were now joined by other political gures such as Tony Pua from DAP. Suddenly, without any warning, teargas and chemical-laced water were shot and sprayed towards us. The effects were immediate and were more than I could bear. As this was my rst face-off with such hostility, like many hundreds around me, we ran to seek shelter. We climbed the stalled escalator towards the main entrance of Menara Maybank and worn out and almost defeated, we crumbled to the oor for a decent breath. The teargas effects were agonizing and thanks to the expertise of FRU chemical unit, the chemicals were burning my skin. There were a number of mak ciks hand in hand with their teenage daughters. Although people were outraged, we remained civil and this was when I learned my rst two lessons of the day. Despite the anger, frustration and pain, all of us were civil. Very civil. I instinctively knew that it wasnt a good time to break and thrash everything that was in front of us.

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Although vandalism is part of mass rallies everywhere else, it wasnt here. Not one person vandalised anything. True unity is in action. People genuinely cared for each other regardless of ethnic, religious or status differences. Everyone was ONE. Malaysians. With all due respect, Datuk Seri Najib Razak, this is 1 Malaysia with substance. Not the kind of crowd with free 1 Malaysia T-shirts waving the Malaysian ag whilst thinking of the free food which will be provided later. Was it worth it to join the rally? Denitely, I have no doubt in my mind. I felt a sense of solidarity with all those around me, in a way which is almost unexplainable. After 30 minutes of a break and recharging myself with a can of Red Bull, I rejoined the masses. I found a huge group just in front of our newly renovated Pudu Raya Bus Terminal. By then, the marchers had already experienced rounds of tear gas and water cannons. I watched in shock, as water ran down the street like a ash ood. Somehow, I managed to sneak into the crowd. Someone told me how MP Sivarasa Rasiah was negotiating with the police, and whilst he was negotiating, I had the pleasure of experiencing something I will never forget for the rest of my life. Despite the drizzling rain, the uncertainties and the risk of being hit by another round of tear gas, the crowd spontaneously started to sing Negaraku. It was such an awesome moment in my life, that I had goose bumps. Later Sivarasa informed us that the police were allowing us to march on one side of the road towards Jalan Sultan. Deep down inside, I was like, Yeah, right. Less than 10 minutes later, he and a couple of other negotiators were whisked away by the police (they were later arrested) and all hell broke loose. Rounds of tear gas and sprays from the water cannon forced the majority of the group into the Tung Shin hospital compound. I initially thought it was a safe bet to be in a hospital compound. Boy oh boy, it was a perfect trap for us. Yes, they did shoot tear gas inside the parking compound of the hospital. Being cornered with nowhere to run, no fewer than 30 guys and girls were arrested, including me. I was handcuffed with some sort of cable tie (which I use wildly in my job), but the only difference being, this one is much larger. The cop who dragged me from Tung Shin Hospital compound all the way to Menara Maybank was very civil, but not the FRU personnel, who were standing along the street. At least ve of them made nasty remarks about my disability. I was grouped with not less than 50 other detainees in Menara Maybank waiting for the famous Black Maria. At this moment, I learned my next two lessons whilst waiting for the Black Maria. I rst met the now most famous Bersih 2.0 gure, Aunty Bersih, whilst the crowd were singing Negaraku. She sang along. Despite her fragile state and clearly suffering from earlier tear gas attacks, she held on to the owers. Determined and courageous, just like Datuk Ambiga Sreenevasan. This auntie came around to the staging area where we were held and with full respect, she bowed in front us the ofcial detainees. It was so touching. I learned that this is a ght for everyone. This is a ght for the future of our kids. The ght to save this beautiful nation. Not fewer than ve Good Samaritans came around and passed us fresh bottled water. They bought it and brought it to us. For some of us whose hands had been tied behind our backs,

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they even held up the bottle whilst we took a sip. Who are they? Politicians? Nope. Suhakam? Nope. Just another MALAYSIAN. I learned that this is who we are. What we are. Utusan Malaysia, Datuk Ibrahim Ali and their fellows surely have no idea what it is like to be on the ground. Was it worth it to join the rally? Hell, yeah! After being held for almost an hour, we were taken to Pulaupol. Man, the place was set up for a carnival. A number of makeshift tents, mobile lavatories, temporary suraus and, being Malaysians, buffets included. This is surely a good PR job by PDRM. My estimation is no fewer than 500 detainees were in there at this time. It was tough and as this was my rst time being detained, I was calm, as I knew that being tense will not help anything at all. Our Mykad were taken away. We were allowed to use the lavatory and suraus but not allowed to use the mobile phone. Despite this, I continued to text my brother and other friends. I was informed that the lawyers were not allowed into the Pulaupol compound. Within an hour, all the formalities were done. No statement was taken. The chaos really began when the cops started a roll call to return our Mykad. Imagine a guy with loud speaker calling out name after name. Somehow, this was a blessing in disguise. During this roll call, every time a non-Malay name came up, the crowd cheered for him loudly, followed by a big round of applause. At about 8pm, my name was called and I hitched a ride on a PDRM bus which ferried the released detainees back to KL Sentral. I got off just outside the main entrance of Pulapol and joined my brother and his colleagues. A few minutes later something unexpected happened. Haris Ibrahim was walking out calmly from the main entrance of Pulapol. I couldnt help myself and called out his name loudly. I went up to him and embraced him. I did see a kind of joy in his eyes knowing all his efforts had paid off and I am sure he could see in my eyes the kind of satisfaction I had, because I had joined this rally. Was it worth it? Do you need to ask me again? Whats next, my fellow brothers and sisters?

Abdul Haleem

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How Bersih cleansed my Malaysian soul

Im a 28 moving on to 29-year-old man in Kuala Lumpur, the place where in 2008 I decided to get a fresh start. I am originally from Malacca and had been in Singapore for about 4 years prior to moving to KL. For the purposes of this story, lets just say the sum of my life experiences has made me grouchy, surly, disgruntled and yes RACIST. But I was a funny type of racist; Im Chinese but have part-Baba heritage with very Westernised conditioning and cannot, for the life of me, speak any sort of Chinese dialect (save to order food). I disliked the Malays and Indians for the usual stereotypical reasons, and I disliked the Chinese even more for being too Cina and I disliked the lain-lains for just being lainlain. Sure, I have friends from other races; my very best friends are Malay Singaporeans, and my childhood friend, who is in KL as well, is a Chindian. My project band which wrote a song for the MyConstitution album consisted of me, two Chinese girls, an Indian guy, a Sindhi, and two Malay guys. We were quite 1 Malaysia. Yet I could not discard my racial prejudices. I disliked everyone, especially if they didnt think like me. In a sense, I was a racial nihilist. I believed everyone was just as racist and using the tools of logic and reason, which I am so proud of, I often sought to make people around me admit their prejudices. Having done so, I would conclude, as I have convinced myself, that we could never be 1 Malaysia or be just Malaysian and neither would meritocracy ever prevail in what I perceived in a society that was only a cultural pot of prejudices. Diverse, yes in its prejudices and preconceptions. There was a glimmer of hope when Hannah Yeoh tried to register her daughter as Anak Malaysia but then a small section of society, as portrayed by the mainstream media, vehemently opposed the temporary registration of her daughter as Chinese whilst she fought this battle. All I thought was: There you go. I smiled smugly to myself; I loved being proved right. When Bersih came about I merely thought, OK-lah, its a good thing-lah I suppose. I decided not to go as I have exams soon and working while studying here has made me even grouchier, more pessimistic and somewhat depressed. I felt like a small cog in the giant machine of society, plus I hadnt quite had the time to prepare for this exam. So going for Bersih was denitely out. Besides, what would it change? This was the one time I was glad to be proven wrong. My mum had called me in the afternoon that day to ask me where I was and, being concerned about the volatile situation, asked me not to go and focus on my exams. My mum is quite the socio-politically-aware woman but I knew she only had a mothers concern for her childs safety in telling me to stay at home. I told her yes, Im not going. But the very moment I said that, something urged me to go. My curiosity grew like a calling to full some sort of purpose. In some ways, God, whom Ive neglected for so long, decided that day to crush my arrogant notions and my supposedly infallible sense of logic and reason.

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In a state of mild euphoria, I drove through some lesser-known roads and parked at Brickelds. Absolutely lost, directionless and intimidated by the police presence, I called my friend David, who called his wife, human rights lawyer Renuka. They had just been tear-gassed in KL Sentral and Ambiga had been arrested. She

nonetheless guided me on how to join the march and that she would come get me if she could. But the aftermath of the KL Sentral incident was too thick with tear gas and I instead joined another group which walked to the Chinese temple just outside Stadium Merdeka, which was blocked by a heavy police presence and a few re engines, and ultimately to Pasar Seni LRT. I was surrounded by the very people whom I had held so much prejudice against; the Indian uncle, the Chinese Ah Beng, the Malay pakciks and makciks. But this was different, Inoticed that most of them were from out-of-town whilst I, who up to the last minute, had decided it was too bothersome to go what with the roadblocks and such. I also noticed that most of them did not know each other, but had extended a warmth so tangible that I almost shed a tear in regret of all my stupid preconceptions about these people. I had up to this point concluded that most people were simply, out of the burden of city life, selsh and cold. No, I was the one who was cold and selsh. Throughout the whole thing there were people who attempted to talk to me, seeing that I was rather quiet, perhaps guessing that I may be feeling a little scared. But I kept quiet, still trying to come to grips with what I was observing that day; the true Malaysian spirit. No one saw me as Chinese or a city dweller or anything but a brother. I always thought people are inherently evil, but in spite of so many opportunities to steal, bully, rob, loot and plunder, I promise you no one even so much as committed a misdemeanour. I saw my Malay brothers (I now call them brothers in the hope that they and others take me as their brother too) demonstrating their frustration at the injustice suffered, I suspect, not so much by themselves, but for their non-Malay brothers and sisters. I could tell that many were not out there for themselves. And it was not so much during the chaotic moments that the Malaysian soul manifested, but in the moments in between. In between the chaos, many chattered to strangers and, surprisingly, to a stranger from a different race from themselves. In the 7-Eleven, a Chinese man from Penang expressed his concern to a Malay stranger from Pahang about the Lynas situation while he in return expressed his admiration for the Chinese mans effort to come all the way from Penang. It was the quiet Indian uncles who came to demonstrate their love for the country, not the men who blare so loudly in the coffeeshops about the unfairness they suffer. The 60-year old Chinese aunties, whom I suspect can barely speak English or Malay, came out with a look of joy and hope in their faces as if they saw a dream fullled. It is with great shame that I confess that the Chinese-speaking youths with their blond hair and their Malaysian kindred had much more empathy and an understanding of unity than I gave them credit for or that I ever had. The love they had in their hearts for the fate of their nation and their brothers and sisters therein for a life and a promise of the idea of Malaysia.

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I, with a formal education in jurisprudence and an intense penchant for philosophy, was the least among these greats. I had ideas of a socio-democrat Malaysia or of a modied contemporary Marxist/Socialist utopia but I was wrong. I forgot about the true patriots of this country. I was the fascist among these great socialists. They understood society better than I ever will. They understand sacrice whereas I only understand theory. I am equally guilty as the current administration for not understanding, and worse, for not even attempting to understand what Malaysia means. For this I am sorry. Bersih and the tear gas have cleansed my Malaysian soul. I will never forget the moment when the tear gas canister ew over my head, the moment I was happy in this dreary existence. I am most likely to fail my upcoming exams but now I would rather fail it than not have gone for Bersih 2.0. My Malaysian soul is wiped clean and I will try to rebuild slowly the spirit which my brothers and sisters displayed so strongly on July 9, 2011. And to Annie Ooi, you will always be my most foremost Lady of Liberty. I will think of you if ever my prejudices arise again.

Andrew Chee

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The days of gatekeeping are numbered

Wong waved his hands in the air. The tear gas canister was right in front of me! he said. The 22-year-old working adult was one of thousands of young Malaysians who went to Saturdays rally that saw tens of thousands of people in the city centre. Some of them werent die-hard supporters of Bersihs call for clean and fair elections. Some like Wong were there just for the fun while others were relentless in their pursuit for the perfect photo. Thousands of protestors and onlookers were at the rally with their cameras and snapped away at everything they saw. Some gung-ho ones even stood between riot police and protestors eager to get a good shot. Sun, an avid photographer and a student at a local college, followed a reporter around so he wouldnt get into trouble. All that just so they can upload their recordings of a moment in history on their Facebook and Twitter accounts. Bersih 2.0 leaders have said the 2007 rally attracted mostly middle-aged supporters and Malays. This time, the crowd was younger and more multi-racial. Call them citizen journalists or just plain kaypoh, the information which these people, such as Tan from Petaling Jaya, gathered and put online has given an alternative but important view of the rally itself. It has crippled the ability of bigger, politicallycontrolled news outlets to shape public opinion. The common perception is that these citizen journalists are activists. But Chong from Setapak, who attended the rally right after work on Saturday, said she is no activist. Im here to show my support, she said. Chong uploaded photos and updated her status on Facebook throughout the rally. After the rally, some Malaysian netizens went further than just photos and videos. They created new campaigns in their social networks. New Facebook groups such as 100,000 People Request Najib Tun Razak Resignation, Wearing Yellow and Walking Around KL cause youre a fearless bastard, and Boycott all running-dogs media for Umno/BN sprouted up and attracted thousands of likes. On Twitter, a popular new hashtag is #bersihstories. Bersih rally participants are still tweeting their experiences and feelings. These include once I thought migrating would be the only option, now I know running is no longer the agenda, I will stay & ght! and A Malay man who opened his hotel room to us as we ran from tear gas attack said, anak muda semua kaum semangat kuat. Online social networks were also primary sources of information for those going to the rally. Wong, who joined the rally without his parents' knowledge, said he found out about Bersih 2.0 from Facebook.

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People come to this rally because of online media, they (Malaysians) dont trust the print media anymore, said Wahab, an activist who works in a government agency. He said information from news sites, blogs and social media allows Malaysians to compare what they read or watch in newspapers and television. If everyone listened to the mainstream media, this rally wouldnt happen, he added. It is unclear if citizen journalism and social media activism will be fruitful in changing policies at the institutional level. But the rally showed that both were critical to changing how and what kind of information is spread and consumed. But like a Facebook-er aptly put it: They (government) can stop all mainstream media, but not us.

Alexis See Tho

57

Tanah tumpahnya darahku

Are you ready to die for the country? I asked as I walked together with Simeon heading from Mirama Hotel on Jalan Maharajalela to Petaling Street. My honest answer to my own question was, No. I dont believe I should die now. When Im only 24. There is so much more that I want and believe I can do for my country. But what if it takes bloodshed for people to wake up? What if we were the ones to go so that people will nally realise the need for change? was Simeons reply. *** I was driving home on Thursday night when this motorcyclist, thinking I was endangering his life, rode very fast... honking the whole way. And as he approached my car, he bent over and shouted at the top of his lungs at me. Wow, I thought. If this was how its like when theres NO rally, I cannot imagine what would happen on July 9th. I thought of chickening out. *** I ip-opped the entire July 8th. To go, or not to go? Every time somebody asked me if I was going, I ashed them a nervous smile. What if I die? What if I dont die... but end up with a disability? Gaahhh. But the biggest why was WHY DO I FIND MYSELF FEARING THE GOVERNMENT? THE VERY PEOPLE WHO ARE SUPPOSED TO MAKE SURE IM SAFE? *** I knocked on the door of 608. And after a request for the Secret Password, the door was opened to 13 other people. Young people. People I call friends. I sat amongst them, and we talked late into the night. Of our game plan. How we would run. What we would need to counter the possible attacks we would face. We slept. And woke to the sound of FRU trucks moving into the city. You would have thought it was World War III. *** We packed salt. Prepared bi-carb soda solution. Soaked our towels in vinegar. Prayed. And left in twos and threes. We walked towards Petaling Street. People we met along the way were silent.. It was the calm before the storm. Grim. None of us knowing what would happen. As we walked further into the heart of the city, we heard chants. Hidup, hidup! Hidup Bersih! Hidup, hidup! Hidup Rakyat! And something in me started. It was a growing excitement.

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We followed the crowd. Chanting as we walked along. Deep inside me, I was still afraid. I looked around me. Most people do not have the same colour skin as me. If a riot was to break out, I would have been Peking duck in two seconds. We looked on. And strategized to join the crowd and be in the middle. Lest anything should happen, at least we were not in the vulnerable fringes. *** Menara Maybank. 1 Malaysia #1. I met an elderly Chinese auntie. This was not her rst rally. The Anti-ISA rally was her rst. She was doing it for her children, she said. Tear Gas #1. We ran helter-skelter. *** Tung Shin Hospital. We were waiting with the rest to march to the stadium. But the Men in Blue gave us no rest. Tear Gas #2. We ran helter-skelter again. We ran into the shelter, eyes, nose and throat hurting from the gas. ALL I WANT IS CLEAN AND FAIR ELECTIONS! WHY AM I TREATED LIKE A CRIMINAL? *** 1 Malaysia #2. We ran into the shelter. Eyes still stinging. Four Malay boys who were standing around offered us salt. Rub it around your eyes and put some in the roof of your mouth, Arif said. Take this bag of salt, give it to those who need it. Thank you, and please, please, please take care, we bade him. *** Rain. THANK GOD FOR RAIN! *** Still in Tung Shin Hospital grounds. Tear Gas #3. WE WERE IN THE HOSPITAL GROUNDS, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! *** We ran helter-skelter. And we saw a wall. There was nowhere else to run, as police were chasing with their batons. 1 Malaysia #3. An elderly Chinese uncle stood by the wall. Uncle, go rst.. go rst, I told him.

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No, no... after you! And he helped me over the wall. And on the other side of the wall, was another Malay uncle... standing and giving a hand to all of us who were running. We continued running. 1 Malaysia #4. I came to another wall. This time, this wall had a metal fence. With sharp pointers. I climbed up the wall. And looked down. There was no way I was going to make it down there unscathed. A young Malay chap climbed up to where I was. Lifted me, and lowered me down the other side.. his stomach pressing against the sharp metal pointers as he was doing so. Are you okay? I turned back and asked. Yes, just run, was his reply. *** After having survived three rounds of tear gas... we were still dissatised. This rally is not over! We heard chants from afar, and decided we would join our fellow comrades in the march to Stadium Merdeka. *** 1 Malaysia #5. As we were heading towards the crowd, we saw three Chinese aunties. They warned us against heading in that direction, because they just saw the FRUs and the police beating people up with batons. Thank you for coming, auntie. For doing this for our generation, I said. She looked at me with bewilderment. Took off her hat, and said to me, Why do you thank me? My father didnt do this for me. Now I will do it for my children. For my grandchildren. I will march in every state every week until I see change happen. *** We found the crowd. And marched on to KLCC. Rasa sayang, hey! Rasa sayang sayang hey! Hey... was what we heard the crowd singing. *** We arrived in KLCC. Sat. Made a few more friends. And ran. Because the police were after us again. As we ran for our lives, I saw two other people in front of me. In running, they hit and toppled the barricades that were around KLCC. And to my utter amazement, they stopped, picked up the barricades, arranged it to be how it was like before, and continued running.

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*** 9th of July, 2011. I am proud. Proud to have friends students and white-collared workers, who would risk being detained and being treated inhumanely to stand for what is right. Proud to have Malaysian brothers and sisters this is my pledge. That this will be the last time I refer to anybody by race. Because of the kindness you showed me and my friends today, you showed me that we are CAPABLE, of being COLOUR BLIND. Proud of the way we behaved during the rally. We were not violent. We were courteous. We helped each other. We pushed on despite being treated like dogs because we kept in mind -- the next generation that is to come after us. Proud that we showed kindness instead of retaliating when we were provoked. Proud that now, nobody can call us Third World because we did not react the way the Middle East did. And most of all, I am proud so proud, that WE DID NOT SUCCUMB TO THE TACTICS THAT SOUGHT TO INSTILL FEAR IN US. THAT WE CHOSE TO RISE ABOVE THE FEAR WE HAVE BEEN SO BOUND BY. *** Negaraku, tanah tumpahnya darahku.

Esther Goh

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Fortress KL: How did Bersih 2.0 slip past?

Roadblocks, negative reports and incessant warnings from the authorities did not stop thousands from swarming downtown Kuala Lumpur to demand clean and fair elections. The busy junction in front of the Puduraya bus terminal became the focal point of yesterdays protest as crowds snowballed from 500 in nearby Petaling Street at 12.40pm to a whopping 10,000 just half an hour later. And while the protesters faced off with the police at Jalan Pudu, just round the corner, mere metres away an estimated thousand more were turned away from the original planned gathering point Stadium Merdeka, which was barricaded by police with barbed wire. But with so many obstacles in place and the entire city practically locked down with roadblocks and closure of key LRT stations, how did the protesters give the police the slip and organised themselves? The answer, perhaps, is still a mystery to Bersih 2.0 and possibly even the police who had placed much of its strength at key rally points in Jalan Tunku Abdul Rahman, Pasar Seni, Masjid Jamek and Masjid Negara, leaving Petaling Street relatively unguarded. Petaling Street catalyst Having conducted mass arrests at pre-announced gathering points in Masjid Negara, the old railway station nearby, Sogo and Masjid Jamek, the police somehow left Petaling Street alone where the protest grew. Small clusters had gathered at the Chinatown market as early as 11am when suddenly, applause broke and the group started marching. As the group crossed Jalan Tan Cheng Lock and further down to Jalan Petaling, it grew from 500 to 1,000, believed to include another few hundreds that were chased out from Masjid Negara, Pasar Seni and Dayabumi building. As they moved down Jalan Petaling, the group, by chance, was bolstered by PAS supporters who had escaped arrest in the area around Masjid Jamek and Masjid India. Within 15 minutes, the march had snowballed to about 4,000 people, clogging up the entire stretch of Jalan Sultan, about 750m away from Stadium Merdeka. By then, the procession had taken a rather carnival-like atmosphere, with urbanites carrying owers and Malaysian ags, singing songs and chanting Bersihkan Piliharaya (Clean up the election). Young, multiracial crowd Notably, the crowd was made up of many Malaysians in their 20s who were rst-time demonstrators. Ibrahim Sufan, director of independent research house Merdeka Centre, dubbed this group as the Facebook generation.

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 Other than the usual opposition supporters, I noticed a lot of newcomers this rally. This may signify that Bersih 2.0 has managed to spark something through Facebook to galvanise this kind of support, said Ibrahim, who had also walked yesterday. While several marshalls were spotted, the crowd mostly moved organically, strangely stopping at corner of Jalan Sultan and Jalan Tun HS Lee when they could have marched all the way up to the stadium to confront the riot police defending the historical landmark. Herd mentality somehow led the crowd of 4,000 to Jalan Tun Perak, where about 1,000 from Masjid Jamek who had gathered in front of the Maybank tower, near the recently renovated Puduraya bus station. It was then that the rst real leader of the demonstration emerged in the form of PAS election director and former Bersih steering committee member Dr Hatta Ramli, who ominously announced on loudspeaker, If you have a yellow shirt, this is the time to put it on. A diverse group, one common cause Moments later, the rst barrage of tear gas began raining in and pandemonium broke lose. Tens of thousands of people started running towards Puduraya while those on the hill slope by the Maybank building climbed gates to get as far away from the stinging gas as possible, crowding a fountain to wash their faces. The tear gas split the group into two, one which regrouped at Jalan Pudu where a protracted stand-off with the police took place, while the remainder joined a smaller crowd from Kuala Lumpur Selangor Assembly Hall which had earlier marched to Stadium Merdeka. In the end, this Bersih 2.0 group led by national laureateA Samad Saidmanaged to get only several hundred meters away from the Istana before they were stopped, failing thus to hand over their the movements petition to the Agong. But despite being foiled from its original plan, Bersih 2.0 had succeeded in getting ordinary Malaysians from all walks of life - from the trendies to the skull-cap wearing conservatives - to come together for a common cause. And unlike other protests before, it was a multiracial crowd that at 4pm, when

unexpectedly informed that police would allow them to march to Jalan Sultan, it was met by rounds of thank you and the crowd broke into an impromptu rendition of the national anthem. Police brutality In comparison, Malaysiakini reporter Ahmad Fadzly Esa reported that only 20 Perkasa members were spotted for their stroll in Taman Titiwangsa lakes, when they had initially promised about 15,000 for a counter-rally. The group had called it off after failing to secure a police permit.

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Meanwhile, acounter rallyby Umno Youth in Bukit Bintang attracted 500 patriots, slightly over a third of the 1,400 people arrested yesterday. On the same note, police brutality remains a concern as heavy-handed measures were employed to disperse what was a peaceful march until the water cannons and tear gas were deployed. Bleeding protestors were carted off by police personnel, while a man spotted on the ground with a fracture and his wrists bound in police-issued plastic handcuffs. He had boot marks on his pants and claimed that several police personnel had pinned him to the ground and kicked his leg. The police brutality will remain fresh in the minds of many over the coming weeks and would likely undermine many of the governments transformation policies which are gradually being rolled out.

Aidila Razak

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'Dataran Square'

Maybank

has

become

my Tahrir

EYEWITNESSNovember 2007, I joined Bersih 1.0 as a young man in my twenties. The cause and objective were simple - reform for clean and fair elections with four demands. At Bersih 1.0, the Chinese were the minority among the peaceful marchers. Even if there were Chinese around, they were mainly middle-aged males. Four years on, I am now in my early thirties and I participated in Bersih 2.0. I am not afliated to any political party or any NGO, I am just a commoner who wish to live in a peaceful and harmonious country. However, frustration has grown over the years when we see our corrupted government playing with race and religion to divide the rakyat. When Bersih 2.0 was rst launched a couple of months back, without any doubt, I knew that I would need to answer this call as a Bersih veteran.

I had since then played my part by creating awareness of Bersih throughFacebook. The day when the Bersih secretariat was raided, I was at the scene, I wanted to go and buy my Bersih 2.0 T-shirts for myself and some other supporters. My anger grew stronger when Bersih was accused with all kind of absurd allegations when its fair and reasonable demands are merely to ensure a clean and fair election. Later, all kind of threats and intimidation ooded in from Perkasa, thugs, silat groups. Bully abuse Since young, I had been vocal, I could never tolerate bully abuse. I even got myself into trouble when I tried to fend off some gangster in high school. Call me stubborn, but the tougher the opponent I get, the stronger I will rebound. That is the principle of my life and that is how I grow up. Sensing potential threats, with my limited martial art knowledge. I was now even more determined to be the "guard" of Bersih supporters. I believe that a true martial artist shall never use any force against good and peaceful citizens.

On a Friday evening, I spent two and a half hours to travel from Klang to City Centre, through three road blocks.

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Dressed in a a yellow stripe shirt earlier during the day, I decided to change to a black T. My objective was simple, to make it to town and be present during the march. But I needed to sneak in a low prole manner. I was lucky enough to secure a room in a budget hotel near Times Square and I spent my whole night on cyberspace trying to encourage more supporters to come. I didn't get much peaceful rest that night, I must be thinking too much, I called home to wish my parents well. I told my mum that I won't be home tonight as I would be running errands out of town. Nerves were tense, blood was boiling, but deep down in my heart, I was still afraid. Should I be afraid more of the threats from police or other unknowns? The sting of tear gas and water cannon spray from Bersih 1 was still fresh in my mind. And with all the stern warnings from police to stay away from this rally, I could foresee there will be more tear gas and water cannon awaiting my revisit. The showdown I woke up early on 709 and decided to take a walk to the Bukit Bintang area. It was around 8.30am, there were already bunch of reporters around Mc'D on stand by.

The town was extremely quiet and I overheard a resident saying that the town would only be this quiet during Chinese New Year or Hari Raya. I hope that this was not a sign of the calm before the storm. I also saw a familiar face walking in around. After reading her blog today I can now conrm it was Marina Mahathir (left). Everyone in the restaurant looked kind of tense as the Patriot group was supposed to show up at 10am. However, it was later conrmed that Patriot had postponed their gathering till 1300. Tweeterinformed that there were some supporters hanging around the Pavilion food court. I decided to take a walk to Pavilion to check out our comrades. Not much police personnel around except a few plainclothes cops around. Finally reached Pavilion food court and spotted a bunch of youngsters, we looked into each other, we didn't see yellow clothes at all, but we do see the yellow ame in our eyes. Final showdown It was around 11 now, I decided to walk back to hotel to charge my phone and take a shower for the nal showdown. By the time I checked out the hotel, it was noon. I walked back to Bukit Bintang area again, I passed by Time Square, and I didn't see any yellow.

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But I do see some lost souls wondering around these areas. In the fear that they could be plainclothes or potential silat or Perkasa members, my instinct told me not to exchange words with them. I was kind of lost that time and did not know where to go to meet my fellow yellow warriors. I read a tweet that DAP members were gathering around Pudu Plaza. But I somehow trusted my instincts and headed towards Kota Raya. Now I see more people around, consisting of all races, walking in small groups of twos and threes. They do look 'Clean', I wonder if we are on the same side. It was almost 13.00 now and I had nally reached Kota Raya. I saw a group of Malays with red arm bands around. I was terried at rst, was Patriot not supposed to gather at Bukit Bintang? I was so worried that I would end up at the wrong place. Still a little bit confused, I then heard chanting coming from Jalan Sultan side. I walked towards them and I know I am in. I can hear the crowd chantingBersih Bersih, Hidup Rakyat. So emotional The joy of meeting up with my comrades feels like reaching home, so emotional. I joined in the crowd and took out my Bersih 1 shirt and put it on immediately.

The crowds all cheer for me. A lot of young people, both Malay and Chinese took pictures with me and keep asking me where do I got my Bersih T from. I proudly told them, "saya dari Bersih 1.0". They were now even more excited now and we all joined hands and marched to Dataran Maybank together. While enjoying the spotlight earlier, I was trying to observe the demographics of the supporters. I am not so good with crowd numbers, but I am very sure is more than 5-6k as claimed by IGP. Young Malaysians To my surprise, there were many young Malaysians. And from these many young Malaysians, I was even more surprised to see a lot of young Chinese from both genders. The crowd started growing, we were all getting excited, some leaders gave speeches, I can't remember who. My friend called me on the phone to check on the situation and I told him that the crowds could be as good as Bersih 1. I have never been to Tahrir Square before, but Dataran Maybank now is a Tahrir Square to me. I see hope, I can see young people now do care about politics and upholding our rights, this will be the birth place for a better Malaysia.

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Just like old times, we had water cannons laced with chemicals and the tear gas treatment. Everyone dispersed and gathered again, and we were now pushed to Jalan Pudu, right in front of Plaza Rakyat. When the police re the rst round of tear gas, everyone was so desperate for water. The gas stung our eyes so badly and even if we did have a piece of cloth, it was still dry so it was basically useless. Those who have water and salt just shared it out to everyone around regardless of race and religion. We gathered again and wanted to march towards Pudu Jail but the police were blocked the other end and we were now being cornered from both sides. I can't exactly remember how many more rounds of tear gas had been launched at us. Rain by God's grace As predicted by weather forecast, rain came by the mercy of God. At least the rainwater helped wash away the tear gas. At that juncture, I was taking a break on a lorong right opposite of Tung Shin hospital.

That was the time we saw tear gas red into the hospital compound. A Few young girls in front of me were getting so emotional and they started crying. Who on earth would re tear gas into a hospital compound? This is a totally insane and unforgivable act, yet it was denied by the IGP. Now that we have all the pictures and video footage as proof, what do you say now? Evidence being doctored? Or you want another royal inquiry to determine the authenticity of the proof?? The street was almost empty now as most had run into the hospital compound for shelter. We were now on a dangerous spot where police could easily charge at us from both ends. We were then instructed to run across the road and go into the hospital compound. We sprinted in and I thought that we could be safe for now. Five minutes on, we had been told to plan our escape as quickly as we can as police would be charging into the hospital compound to arrest people soon.

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On my side, there was a tall gate, locked. Everyone helping each other to climb over the gate, we ran through the back lane of Tongkat Tung Shin and we saw another group of 30-40 policemenjust around the corner. I am not sure if they spotted us, but we did managed to sneak past them. Totally exhausted, I really felt like giving up. Really thought of taking off my Bersih T and just walk away from the crowd. But my conscience told me that the battle was not over yet, we must regroup again. Those who managed to escape from the hospital gathered together again and marched towards Bukit Nenas. I do not know how many people were arrested within the hospital compound, I could only pray for their safety. The rally goes on.With few thousand of us remaining, we walked through the streets of Tongkat Tong Shin, Changkat Bukit Bintang, Jalan Nagasari, Jln Sultan Ismail, Jalan Ampang and Jalan Dang Wangi junction. We made a U-turn later and marched all the way back to Jalan Ampang heading to KLCC and nally stopped at the junction in front of KLCC and Public Bank. Crowds grow again over our journey as a lot of onlookers decide to join in our peaceful march. Honking as sign of support A lot of passing vehicles were all giving us honk as a sign of moral support. Throughout the journey, everyone chanted the Bersih slogan repeatedly. Here I would like to pay my special respects to a young Indian lady.

She had been chanting "Bersih Bersih, Pilihan Raya" throughout the whole journey. Her determination shook me. I hope her throat is recovered by now. It was almost 16.00 now, we were now seated at the junction in front of KLCC, we sang the national anthem in high spirits, followed by a short speech by two or three politicians. Before we could disperse peacefully, the FRU were there again and started giving chase to us. We ran towards KLCC Park and everyone started to disperse on their own. It was already close to 16.15pm. I then took a solo walk back to Times Square again. I had a lot to reect upon. I met a lot of people and heard some inspiring stories. I also witnessed how amazingly courageous some individuals were.

I saw the Lady of Liberty' (left) during the march, I walked with someone on the wheelchair.

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There was also the energetic ash mob group trying to cheer people up. There were also the smiles and the tears on everyone's face. The war is not over yet. It will be ongoing until we achieve our objective to have a clean and fair election.

Patrick Oh

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Merdeka when I was six, true democracy at 60?

When the Tunku raised his hand to the cries of "Merdeka", I was on the cusp of turning six. On 9 July 2011, as I approach 60, I was among those who rallied at the Bersih 2.0 carnival. Yes, it was a carnival. And what a carnival! The atmosphere couldn't have been more convivial and peaceable. The gathering was diverse, emblematic of the Malaysian identity - Indian, Malay and Chinese; young, politicians, country. It was as simple as that. I was initially hesitant about joining - ever the armchair critic, preferring to bemoan and criticise from the air-con comfort of my home while watching drama unfold on my atscreen. Impelled by conscience This time it was different. Conscience impelled me to go. It was partly because my daughter was among the Bar Council"permerhati" (observers) for the rally. But even otherwise, I would have gone. I just had to. My wife was keen to go as well. But getting into town was the problem. One of us had to drive the other to the LRT station. So she was the driver. (And she was so sad to have had to miss out). I took the Putra LRT from Bangsar to Masjid Jamek at about 12 noon. From Masjid Jamek I had planned to take the Star LRT to Hang Tuah. But that station was closed. The plan was to meet a group of friends coming from Puchong at the Hang Tuah station. So I decided to walk. We agreed to meet at Jalan Sultan (outside the old Rex cinema, now a budget hotel). Just as I approached the meeting point, a seemingly endless procession of people came marching and chanting. Cries of "Bersih, Bersih" lled the noon air.I thanked God I had come. The faces were of the Malaysia I know and love - the Malaysia I grew up in, way back in the dim and distant 60s. middle-aged and the and old; priest voters.A and truer laity; rich and the not-so-rich; Malaysia NGOs ordinary representation of what

represents would be hard to replicate. We came because we wanted to - for love of our

71

The atmosphere was celebratory, the heavy police presence notwithstanding. Since my friends were delayed, I decided to join the procession and meet them at another location. After chanting and mingling for a about 20 or so minutes at the Menara Maybank, the crowd moved in an orderly fashion down Jalan Pudu heading toward the Merdeka Stadium. The jovial atmosphere prevailed. My friends joined me at Jalan Pudu in front of the Tung Shin hospital. We took pictures and had some biscuits. Then the FRU personnel, moved in and formed a human barricade, three or more deep and in full riot gear, across Jalan Pudu near Jalan Robertson junction (the road which turns into St Anthony's church) The procession was stalled. With another FRU barricade at Puduraya, we were caught in the police "pincer". Now things began to get a bit nervy. Soon, the skies opened and rain began to fall. We hailed it as a good omen. Showers of blessing To the priest in our group, we said it was God sending showers of blessing to cool us in the afternoon heat, not to mention soak up the tear-gas and dilute the chemical-laced water cannons that were to come. True to script, and with no provocation or warning, the FRU then turned their water cannons from the Puduraya end. The tear-gas followed soon after. The crowd dashed for the Tung Shin Hospital compound. We clambered up about ve feet of slippery muddy slope to reach the compound. The ones already up, me included, gave a hand to those who were behind. The sight of Malaysians of diverse backgrounds reaching out, in pouring rain, to literally pull their fellow Malaysian away from the tear gas was, pardon the pun, enough to bring tears to the eyes. It is a sight I shall forever cherish. Who needs the empty 1Malaysia rhetoric? We waited in the porch of Tung Shin as the rain pelted down. We thought we were safe in a hospital compound. Wrong. Within minutes the tear-gas was shot into the compound - yes right into the compound. One landed within ve feet of me. We scampered to toward the light belukarto try to escape in the Menara Maybank direction. We had to negotiate another slippery muddy slope, down this time, hanging on the tree vines. I slipped and fell despite holding on to the vines. Not hurt though, thank God.

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Then police appeared in the opposite direction chasing some who had made their way down earlier. We backtracked up the slope. It was not easy - but we made it back to the Tung Shin compound. The crowd had begun to thin. Our point had been made. So I decided to call it a day. Hard fall I trudged down the slope from the Tung Shin compound toward Jalan Pudu holding on to a young Malay lad. I slipped and took a hard fall. The young man called out with concern, "Uncle, ok? Uncle, ok?" I was touched. I said, "I'm ok. Terima kasih". I walked toward the Masjid Jamek station, hoping to take the LRT back to Bangsar, but Putra had stopped services. So I took a leisurely walk in muddied wet clothes along Tun Perak, toward the Royal Selangor Club, over the Jln Kuching yover toward Masjid Negara, past Muzium Negara, KL Sentral and on to Bangsar LRT station. On my long trek home, other than for the large clusters of police personnel and their trucks at various points, I was the about only living soul around. It was eerily like something out of the twilight zone. I stopped twice to ask the police if it was okay for me to take the route I did. They very politely told me it was ne. The police had a job to do. At the Bangsar LRT my dear wife picked me up and drove me home. I must have looked a state - soaked to my skin and slacks all muddied. I was very tired; but very exhilarated. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. My wife envied me. On the verge of turning 60, my prayer is that this beloved land of my birth has come of age.

Allen Lopez

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We walked in peace until

The night was quiet. The usual buzz that surrounds KL on a Friday night was missing. I walked from Masjid Jamek LRT station to the hotel through Masjid India bazaar. Not many police were sighted and business was still operating as usual. The crowd was mainly tourists. I met up with Padma, Jo and Kavilan in the hotel. My roommates were Albert and Bakri Haris Ibrahims younger brother. As the night was still early, Padma, Jo and I chilled out at the hotels rooftop caf. From above, Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman (TAR) looked deserted. Streets were empty. So were Jalan Raja Laut and Jalan Kuching. The police had barricaded and blocked access into KL, advised people to stay at home. A helicopter with spotlight was seen ying low every 15 minutes around town, inspecting every inch of it. KL was on a self-imposed curfew. In the midst of our conversation, we got news that some hotels were being raided by the police. We decided to go back to our rooms. Albert, Bakri and I were cautious throughout the night. Soon sunrise came. The hide and seek began From afar, we saw that Dataran Merdeka was sealed off. There were occasional sirens wailing and FRU trucks moving. Police were combing Jalan TAR and its adjacent alleys and there were reports of arrests in Sogo. We spotted three Special Branch (SB) ofcers having breakfast at table beside us. We decided to go back to our rooms. While waiting in the room, suddenly, the phone rang! A man was looking for May and said that her friend from Singapore was having trouble downstairs. But there was no May in our group! Albert replied and hung up. Subsequently two more calls came, this time answered by Bakri and he managed to get the name of the caller Azman. Bakri gave him the same reply and nally, he said Then can I speak to Padma? Bakri told him to check with the receptionist and hung up. I told Bakri that it could be the SB shing and he made a few calls to the rest of the group. We gathered and we decided to move to Pasar Seni. We walked along Jalan Ampang towards Jalan Hang Lekiu. Streets were empty. Masjid Jamek LRT station was sealed off and FRU trucks were in position. We saw pockets of people along the way; in groups of twos and threes. Some were sitting by the curbside. About seven to eight FRU trucks were stationed in front of Pasar Seni. We also spotted a lot of SBs in Pasar Seni. We then decided to move to Petaling Street. Petaling Street where the party begins As we reached Petaling Street, we noticed small groups had already gathered. Noticeably, the crowd was largely youths. I bumped into some friends, fellow Loyarburokkers among them Justine, Ka Ea and June. The SABM-ers sang Negaraku and the crowd cheered. Spirits were getting high. We decided to walk to Stadium Merdeka via Jalan Hang Jebat. As I turned the corner, I saw a sea of people marching forward; about 2,000 at least. I stood still for a moment. No words could describe my feelings. We are not alone! Within minutes, the crowd grew; more joined the marching crowd (out of nowhere!). By the time the group reached the intersection to Jalan Hang Jebat, there were at least 4,000 people. I lost sight of Padma and Jo in the midst of marching. The atmosphere was carnival-like (http:/ /twitpic.com/5nj7yy) so I was not too worried. The group wanted to

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march up Jalan Hang Jebat to Stadium Merdeka. But there was a police blockade; just outside Rumah BP! Rather instinctively (I dont know what the hell got into me!), I jumped in front and told them No! We dont confront! We came for a peaceful walk and we dont want a confrontation! The few leaders/marshals looked at me stunned, and agreed. The group then turned back and headed towards Kotaraya. The Jalan Sultan crowd joined another group that had already gathered at Jalan Tun Perak, in front of Maybank Tower. The crowd had already swelled to at least 20,000. More and more were also walking in from Jalan Sultan. I was already helping with crowd control by now; urging those at the back to join the crowd. The crowd size continued to grow tremendously; it was nearing 30,000. Attention was suddenly thrown towards Jalan Pudu during Dr Hatta Ramlis speech. There was a large group marching forward. I ran forward to check if the crowd was another #Bersih group. To my relief, I saw Alex (Bukit Bintang MP Fong Kui Luns son) leading the pack. This is the group that marched from Pudu! The two groups joined and by now, it was a 50,000 strong crowd. The FRU spring into action! Without warning, suddenly an FRU truck came charging towards the crowd in front of Sinar Kota and started shooting water at the crowd. The crowd panicked and retreated; as some youngsters who were clearly angered and provoked tried to charge at the FRUs. I ran in front again (I still dont know why the hell I did that!) and shouted like a mad man, asking them not to confront. Some Pak Cik and uncles also tried to hold the line as well. Then Poom Poom Poom Poom Poom Poom; tear gas was red at the crowd. The massive crowd retreated back to the intersection in front of Puduraya. By now, we were almost split into two smaller groups; 1 retreating backwards to Jalan Pudu, some to Puduraya while the other group moved backwards to Jalan Sultan. Garam Garam Garam Air Air Air people were sharing salt, pouring water into each others' towels. A few youngsters were seen helping a Pak Cik who seemed to be having breathing difculties as he sat by the curbside. I spoke to a leader and we decided to group everyone together at Puduraya. The Jalan Sultan crowd started moving, slowly. Suddenly, the FRU came charging again from Jalan Tun Perak. This time with blue chemicals. The crowd retreated further back; clearly breaking the group into two. At the same time, the FRUs from Pasar Seni moved up to Petaling Street junction. I urged the crowd to move back into Jalan Sultan. A group of youngsters then emerged from Jalan Tun Tan Siew Sin and ran towards Jalan Sultan. Poom Poom Poom Poom Poom The FRUs near Kotaraya red! A few brave youngsters kicked away the gas canisters to change the smoke direction! God answered our prayers And as if God was watching us, rain came! It poured! The rain washed away the tear gas smoke. I saw a teenage Malay boy; his eyes were inamed and red but he soldiered on. I asked if he was alright; he pointed skywards and washed his eyes. We smiled. Surprisingly,

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the earlier police blockade in front of Rumah BP was gone (maybe they were scared of the rain); as the crowd marched towards Stadium Merdeka. I managed to meet up with my brothers there. The crowd only managed to walk to Changkat Stadium, where the FRUs had already put up barbed wires. Here, the FRUs and police observed restraint. They left the crowd alone and were only observing. As the rain continued to pour, the crowd chanted and sang Negaraku. Down the road, a carnival-like atmosphere lled the crowd again. People were seen busy buying ice-cream from a bicycle vendor. I met up with Yvonne, Karen and Jonson and we moved along with the crowd towards the Chinese temple opposite Kuala Lumpur Selangor Chinese Assembly Hall. We met a few others there; Kwang Chen, Nathaniel Tan, Edmund Bon and Zain HD. I called Padma and was glad to nd that both she and Jo were alright (They managed to get into Stadium Merdeka!). The crowd dispersed peacefully at 4pm. Walked for a noble cause People say you will know who your true friends are during your times in need. On July 9th, we, fellow righteous Malaysians who braved all the obstacles walked together for a cause that we believed in. There were no Malays, no Chinese, no Indians, no Sabahans, no Sarawakians and no Orang Asli. Just Malaysians! On July 9th, the real Malaysia emerged, and we walked in peace until

Adrian Ng

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Home

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Hanging my head in shame

I am a cyber-kaypoh, and I am a coward. I am what people call NATO no action and talk only. I vent my displeasure only in the form of words and mostly in news portal comments. I talk big and never have the guts to act. I support Bersih and its agenda but all I can give were stupid comments whereas what they or like-minded Malaysians most needed was physical presence or rather participation in the peaceful walk. But fear gripped me. I failed to overcome the fear and I am quite ashamed to face my own people, let alone my God. I plough through the news portals and lots of amazing stories have come out, showing citizens taking up their democratic rights so that the country can reform for the better. And in one case, a Malaysian patriot, Baharudin Ahmad, died. Why did I not participate? Lots of excuses. I stay in Singapore no time to go back. I have a family to take care of what will happen to them if I am arrested? I may lose my goodsalaried job who is going to pay the bills? I may get hurt/killed by the police and the likes of Perkasa and other extremists. Why didnt you wear the yellow shirt? I didnt know there was a peaceful sit-in at Hong Lim Park. No yellow shirt. Dont think lacking one makes any difference. I managed to talk myself out of this. Being a coward and selsh have done me in and kept me involved by going online for news in the comfort of my room sitting on my posh sofa. Meanwhile, the patriots were ghting for a better Malaysia so that our children can have a better civil society. I would like to sincerely thank all those ghters and their sacrices. Especially to the family of Baharudin Ahmad who should be considered a hero. Come this general election, I will be sure to vote in a civil government.

A coward

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