If this is 1 Malaysia, I cannot wait to get out!

Yesterday, wifey and I took her family out for a nice lunch in a nice Thai restaurant in the city. A delayed Mother's Day celebration.

My mother in law is in her 60's, she has 3 daughters of whom I am married to the oldest.

She is from India but now a Malaysian citizen. Her husband passed away more than 20 years ago while the children were still schooling.

Her husband was a Malaysian and worked as a loyal servant of the Malaysian government.

Being from India, it was difficult for her when she lost her husband. But that did not stop her from making sure her children received the best she could offer and make better lives for themselves.

She ensured that 2 of 3 daughters went on and got University education. Her other daughter is Down Syndrome, but she made sure she got some form of schooling and education. In Malaysia, it was not easy.

She did many odd jobs, she lived on the miserable few hundred ringgit from her husbands pension.

This blog is not her story, but stories she told me yesterday.

On Sunday morning, she went for her usual walk around her apartment where she lives in a suburb of the city.

As she was walking around, she used her usual paths which includes a Malay kampung area.

There was a large crowd this morning. There were people in red uniforms giving out roses to women mainly mothers for Mother's Day.

Every one was getting a flower.

And the flower came with a note, "Wishing all mothers a Happy Mother's Day, from Barisan Nasional". (Barisan Nasional (BN) is Malaysia's ruling party for those friends of mine who may not know.)

She was not given a flower. She was not given a 50 cent worth rose flower because she was an Indian.

This is the Barisan Nasional that we have.

No flowers for Indian mothers, they do not deserve it, they vote for the opposition.

She goes on to tell me another story.

She goes to this night market near her area to buy vegetables.

Mostly Malay traders sell vegetables there.

She notices that there are slight price variations from when she buys vegetables and when she compares with her Malay friends.

Mothers on a budget will always compare notes.

The same trader gives the same size broccoli to a Malay woman for RM2.50 whereas charges my mother in law RM3.30 or RM3.50.

The size and the weight is identical yet she is charged higher.

This again because she is Indian.

She approaches the trader but this bastard just brushes her off.

Another story goes back to her old hometown of Kulim, Kedah.

In the wet market, where she buys vegetables from a Malay pakcik (old Malay man).

One day, she hears the pakcik tell his teenage kids that they can and should charge the pariah Indians a higher price.

This is the education the pakcik gives his children. First, to discriminate based on race and on top of that call a name which is equivalent to calling someone a bastard.

This is 1 Malaysia, this is the 1 Malaysia I cannot wait to get out off.

I have many close Malay friends and do not want to generalise, but the friends like Datuk in Miri are getting rare by the day. It seems for Malay to be racist including Ibrahim Ali, it is okay, they are Malays, they have their rights.

If an Indian or Chinese was to do this, we will be blamed for another May 13 or inciting racial hatred.

I am not inciting any hatred towards any race.

I just want peace, love and respect for one another, respect another mother, respect the elderly.

Sigh....like a friend said Zhopa!

Take care and be well.