RAPE.. In Malaysia

We come from a society where rape and incest is less commonly reported as it should be. In any society or culture, it is difficult for a person to admit to rape. Especially if it's date rape, marital rape or incest.

Do you want to know something i came across as shocking? As you know, I work with Refugees. Last month i came across this lady who was sold for "a night" to four men on her journey to Malaysia. As she was fleeing from her country and the military's persecution for a safer live, she was brutally raped, and in wonder, survived the ordeal. We got to know about the case through one of the Burmese community. While we thought that it was a must that she received emotional support, we found out a more alarming fact, she got pregnant through that ordeal. A few weeks 0f emotional support and counseling later, she decided to keep the baby, only because she said it would be a sin to abort a life. When i took her to the gynae and reality struck her via the sonogram, she broke down and sob uncontrollably.

This is real, unedited, this is what it is.

The fact is, although we are not sold into sex or slavery in Malaysia, we assume Rape does not happen on a daily basis. Only because it is not commonly reported.

DO YOU KNOW WHY MALAYSIANS DO NOT REPORT?

Here is something you probably never heard off. Well, not to blame you because we generally do not go out of our way to find out about random stuff especially if it hasn't happened to us

This is the protocol of how a rape case is handled in Malaysia.

When a person is raped within 72 hours, a medical examination can be done to certify medically that forced sexual advances has occurred, HOWEVER;

1. The victim must make a police report first ands give a statement before a medical examination is allowed. The victim must GO to the police station and does not necessarily get a female officer to take down their statements.

2. The victim must go to the government hospital for the medical examination and retrieval of evidence. No special privileges are given to rape victims. They are made to wait like the others at the A&E. Lawfully, only a gynae can perform medical examinations such as these which is intrusive and sensitive, however, medical officers who are inexperienced are said to have performed the examination.

3. Examination must be done with the presence of a female officer in the room. Evidence might be doctored otherwise (rolls eyes)

4. Rape victims cannot go to any private clinics even if it is an emergency and if they are hurt very badly IF they intend to file a report against the rapist. Similarly, private clinics, hospitals, are not given any authority to collect evidence for rape cases.

5. If a person is spilling blood, severely hurt, evidence will not be collected until a police statement is given if the case is to be classified as a rape case. Many patients have been sent from the hospital to the police station because they had not made the statement first before going to the doctor.

6. There is a One Stop Centre for rape is KL. However, victims will still have to travel to the nearest police station to take their statements first before they are given any treatment or any examination is done.

ALL THESE CAN BE OMITTED IF A VICTIM CHOOSES NOT TO REPORT THE CASE.

I don't know about you but i was shocked when i found out about this . A few lawyers at UNHCR shared these information with me, and with further research, i realised it to be true.

How do WE stand and watch this? WHat has our Women's Ministry been advocating if such a simple thing is still obsolete and extremely preposterous?

A person's rights have been brutally violated when she is raped. Yet, instead of preparing a safe environment for her to help her gain some justic for the injuctice she has faced, we trample her further with our stupid protocols which do NOT make any sense...

You be the Judge of it....

This is our Malaysia... Beloved Malaysia

I'm an EX-Addict... an EX- TV-Addict!

I've been blessed with kindness by Bernard for the past 2 weeks. Knowing how much i'd love to watch the Olympics day in and day out, Bernard borrowed me his decoder and astro card since the Olympics started. Well, having cable is a big deal for me. Not that i can't afford subscribing for Astro, but the mere fact of being an ex-tv addict scares me that i may one day, turn back to my old roots. A leopard never changes its spots after all right?

I feel a little guilty. Bernard's been so kind to me as to sacrifice his private Astro channel. Yet i feel as though im secretly having an affair with the tele and turning back to my old bad habits. I've been flipping channels like a maniac on sugar rush every opportunity i get in between commercials and especially when two conflicting programs i want to watch is aired at the same freaking time! And yes shoot me i'm shallow, but the channel i spend most time watching when there's no olympic coverage is channel E (Entertaintment).

I've been an outcast to the latest hollywood happenings since i started working. Not that it will make any impact in my life, but gossip is every girl's best friend, and living without it is without a doubt living in a lonely world!

All these late nite affairs with my astro decoder shall end when the Olympics are over... It's sad..But right now, I'm in bliss....

UNedited Version of ME

This is the part i wrote for the book Revolving Doors in a column called Reflections. It portrays the reflections of the interviewers while documenting the stories which will be used as the backbone of the book...

Sadly, due to budget, we can't afford to print out such a lengthy portion of my work...
And due to editing, probably 1 percent of what i wrote was retained in it's actual form

So to all you guys who actually bother to read my "oh not so great" works, hehehe... i felt compelled to post my work which i put in my very own blood and sweat...

I admit that i'm a far cry away from a good writer, and neither are any of my works captivating. write in random sequence, because it all just flows from my mind...

Editing can be so painful sometimes, sigh....But here is me... and what i have to say...

Cheers...

Conducting an interview is any context is a process of getting to know a person in depth. Be it regarding their credentials, their character, their strength, their passion, or in this case; the events which brought about their will to survive more than ever. The journey of this book started with documenting real life experiences of Burmese refugees in Malaysia trying to survive on a day to day basis. As interviewers, the road has not been a three lane highway. The bumps and curves we encountered is nothing compared to the grievances these refugees experienced, but it has definitely been a changing point in our lives. The experience of interviewing the refugees made us count our blessings even more than before, but most importantly, opened our eyes to the fact that we simply cannot sit back and watch anymore, but take action to stop their misery. Not especially when we can, if we want to.
Before we started the interviews, we had a sequence guideline questions that were to be asked, where to probe, and how to get sufficient information that would perfectly depict the experience they went through. The first interview that each of us conducted broke the mold. From what we expected it to be 2-3 hours allocated for each interview, some stretched to what was 7 hours. A colleague of mine told me before my first interview, “ if you cannot picture yourself in their shoes, it means that you haven’t asked enough,” That was the most useful advise that I have received prior to attempting my first interview session, which was consequently detrimental to my emotional state. Why you may ask, since it is not me who experienced the pain, suffering, injustice, and inhumane conditions which was not a choice. It was simply because when the stories unfolded beyond mere facts, there was a part of disbelief that anyone would deserve to be treated in such an inhumane way.
The hardest part of the interview was the various areas where the refugees interviewed were asked to describe the way they felt, and the thoughts that were going through their minds when experiencing arrest-detention-deportation. While some described numbness, others broke down and cried, while reliving the experience.
My first interview was with a 59 year old woman. Her detention experience was worsen by political implications her husband had been involved with. She suffered physical violence and emotional violence. What she endured was something I couldn’t imagine myself at a young age being able to endure, what more at her age. As I looked at her, I thought of my very own mother who was about the same age as she is, and how my heart would bleed if my mother went through half of what she did, while I sat aside helplessly, unable to help her. Yet she gave me strength listening to what she had to say. She was still scared of her future, she was still scarred by her experience. But underneath it all, she emitted what was pure courage that by sharing her stories, she wanted to help prevent other refugees from going through what she did. The way she delivered her story with such conviction made me convinced that not one part of what she said was fabricated. Yet she had such strength, to not break down and cry. She had hope, she still had laughter left. It made me feel small at that point of time. It made me think of all the lamentations we indulged ourselves in on daily basis. We cry over unequal rights, we cry over underpaid salaries, we cry over family problems and the raised cost of living. We cry over trivial matters that do not determine life and death. But for a woman who had death staring her in the face throughout most of her life, she had one thing we lacked of. She had hope and courage.
The journey of documenting stories made us feel a flood of emotions. Overnight, we felt like what it feels like to be a mother in distress, an elderly with little hopes of whatever future they had left, a child robbed of his childhood, a father who’s lost his children, a sibling who’s looking for a lost loved one. Besides the negative feelings that we experienced, we also saw strength, courage, and persistence to fight for a better future.
One of the interviewees told me in the middle of an interview that I would never be able to understand how she felt at that time. And I agreed to that simply because it was the truth. Never in my wildest imagination can I truly empathize what she felt at the point of arrest-detention-deportation. A normal mother cum mother to be experiences a mountain of emotions due to hormonal changes as well as new responsibilities due to motherhood. On top of that, she had to cope with the stress of being in a situation where she couldn’t understand what was to happen to her and her children as well as unborn child. Their fates were dangling by a thin yarn and as a mother, she was responsible for that. What stress she must have felt, which I will never fully understand.
Emotions are one thing. Physical pain was another. For those who have been whipped, kicked, slapped, abused sexually and abused by horrible living conditions, the anxiety they felt not knowing if the abuse will ever stop is unthinkable. The one thought that went through my mind was, it could have been me, it could have been my family. After all, once upon a time, we were all immigrants to this country as well. How is then and now different. On top of that, our forefathers were economic migrants to Malaysia. The Burmese refugees on the other hand are here for our protection, and yet without conscience, we push them further down when they are already vulnerable.
As social workers, we naturally have more compassion towards the people that we work with. That is what that makes us passionate about our work despite all the difficulties that come our way. It may also cloud our perception when it comes to judging whether the treatment the refugees are receiving is just or not. We sent out the stories which we documented to random Malaysians who work in different industries to gauge what they feel about the situation. This is their response to it

“ I never knew there were a group of people called refugees in our country. As far as I’m concerned, migrants here are either legal or illegal and they all come for economic purposes. But as a read the stories, I wonder how many more out there face this preposterous fate. They are supposed to be protected. And what have we done to ensure so? Why isn’t this in the news? They DO NOT deserve this kind of treatment.”
Sheila, Business student , 19years old

“ I come from a church where we have masses for the Burmese refugees. I see them almost every week but I never considered them as refugees. I always questioned my church’s decision of harboring these “illegal immigrants”. All these while I thought they were here for better life and to earn a better income for their family back home. After reading the story that was sent to me, I was shocked. I was in tears. I call myself a Christian but I never even bothered to wish them Happy Sabbath because I thought they were just illegal immigrants. My eyes have opened now because I finally understand why they are here. When you see them at church, laughing, and being content, you would never imagine that they are facing persecution and that their lives are in danger every single day. It is shocking that even with a UNHCR card, they have no protection. How could the deeds of our government all be hidden from us all these while. There definitely is a need to address this issue and make sure that the fates of these Burmese refugees are changed for the better.”
Jesse, 43 years old, Music School teacher.

“ I understand that opening the doors to immigrants can cause a lot of problems in our country. After all, most of them are uneducated. I just cannot accept the part where they are tortured by our own country’s officials because they are here to seek protection. There must be a better, more humane way to deal with the situation. If Thailand can do it, why can’t we? What if one day Malaysians are so used to denying human rights that they start persecuting ethinics in Malaysia. What type of example are we setting for our future generation?”
Max, 24, Advertising

“We pride ourselves as a country of values, racial harmony and tolerance. We appear to be a happy country with no harmful riots and compassionate towards natural disasters and wars around the world. However, this story has truly shocked me. I wonder what our government have been doing all these while, masking these stories and pretending we are an advocate of compassion and humanity. How could this portray harmony in any way? We are a democratic society and yet we are kept in the dark by these events that happen right under our noses. This has to be stopped. NO ONE deserves to be treated in this way, to be sold as slaves, to be tortured even if they were criminals.”
James, Executive, 31years

“ When I read through the story, I first thought that it could have been exaggerated in order to gain people’s pity. Then I did more research on the Burmese and their political situation. I am convinced that this is true and is actually going on in our country. The Malaysian Tidak apa attitude is what that’s causing it. Everyone is too afraid to come out and insist on a change in the government’s procedures as they feel they should mind their own business. Where is our growth as a nation. Sure we have the tallest buildings and we’re trying to advance ourselves, but has compassion been lost in the process? How could these people be treated in such an inhumane way. Where is our conscience”
Kirk, businessmas, 52

"After reading your interview with Nwe, I was numb with shock and anger. I have been praying for the Burmese ever since you shared their plight with me when you visited Penang last. But the atrocities that they have to bear with are unthinkable. How you are able to function day after day when met with such injustice and cruelty is beyond my imagination. I can barely walk now even thinking about it. My first reaction was to get depressed over the entire situation and weep with anger over the injustice. I did that for a while, but then I started to pray to God to beg for the many lives that are still being threatened today. I truly hope your book “Revolving Doors” gets published quickly, and for more people in power to come aware of these atrocities. All I can pray and hope for is for better governance and for healing in our land. The Burmese and Tenaganita will be in my prayers even more fervently from now on. "
Andy, 28, Engineer.

The excerpts of responses to the arrest-detention-deportation were extremely touching to us. It has given us hope that there is compassion left in our society. It shows us that if there simply isn’t enough transparency from the state.
As we journeyed through the documentation process, we have witness full grown man crying and pining for their loved ones who were taken away, despaired by the fact that they cannot do anything to stop the violence against their wives and children, feeling helpless and guilty of not being able to protect their family. We also came across men who are too embarrassed to tell us full details of how they were treated during arrest and detention as they had their dignity and pride stripped off. Men who are broken by the experience and feel as though they would lose their sanity should they have to go through the experience ever again. If men who have a stronger emotional state can feel this, what more women and children who are thrown into the arms of our so called “justice”.
It is never an excuse to use violence against a situation that “might” threaten our national security. Not in a democratic country. We urge the readers of the book to take action to correct our current justice system. To contribute towards humanity and take action by simply being aware of the situation.

Coming of age

Every once in a while, i go on and on about how i've aged half a decade without even realizing it. There's so many things i want to achieve, experience, and own.

I woke up one Sunday morning and while lazing in bed and still half conscious from slumber, i was thinking to myself... "shit, i'm turning 25 next year,"

Then i finally yanked myself out of bed and while i was brushing my teeth and looking at myself in the mirror, i saw crows feet and triple eye bags underneath my eyes.. Something i never noticed before that was so prominently obvious. My mind started doing back flips. " did i just say i'm turning 25 next year? Shit.. I am 25 now. I'm turning 26!" A moment of panic, a few tears squeezed out, a slapped myself and told myself firmly, It's PMS...Ignore the thought!"

I walked to the kitchen, decided to fix myself a cup of green tea instead of coffee ( damn i need those anti-oxidants ) and plonked on the couch while Piggy perched on my lap like how a cat would. i turned on the tv, and there was some music videos aired. I furrowed my brow, and wondered, who the hell are these guys? I've lost touch of the clubbing life, i've lost touch of who's hot and not in hollywood and now i don't even know what songs are on top of the charts! Sigh.. age is closing in on me....

After taking a shower, i dressed up and headed for church. God knows i need some divine intervention for the way i felt that morning. Talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed! I sat on the left hand side of the church as it was rather crowded. That's the area where mommies with toddlers normally sat at too just in case their little one decides to dawdle around or scream for not getting his/her way. It was an emergency exit for parents with rebellious toddlers. I never really thought kids were cute. I must have been spending too much time with my little niece. I was screening each of them, analysing their antics and what they would most probably do next. Maternal instincts literally kicked me in the face... I wanted to have one too... OMG.. that's an absolute sign i'm old!

Last year, i went through a panic attack when people started asking me when i was getting married. Aunties and uncles checking my hands to scan if there was a rock there that would inform them that i'm engaged. I told everyone firmly, i didn't want to get married soon, i'm not ready for children, and i still want to enjoy my youth...

Suddenly, in a week, I'm looking at babies... Gosh.. what's coming over me... i guess in some sense, i just need closure. Closure doesn't only happen when something ends, it can also happen when, for instance, a relationship moves to another level. It's like reading a sequel of books. You really can't move on to book three if you haven't read the ending of book 2.

Sometimes i feel that my relationship has moved to a stage where there's comfort and security. I no longer have to worry things might end cz we had a silly argument. But yet somehow, i just can't be sure of being secured because it's just a feeling, it has never been expressed by words. On some days i feel like the happiest woman on earth, On others, i feel like i've hit rock bottom.

I'm a vocal person. I'm animated and the old saying "actions speak louder than words" do NOT exist in my train of thought. I believe actions AND words are neccessary at all times.

Giving in to behaviors and rituals are easy in a relationship. After all, a successful relationship is all about compromising no? What about beliefs? Or our stands. How much should we defend our stands and principles in order to still be happy enough to give in, and still feel happy at the end of the day?

Beats me.... I'm hoping i'd find and answer soon...

Revolving Doors

This is a possible book cover design for a book we're writing. It is called Revolving Doors ( not Materials for design, thats just a template). As the name of the book suggests, the book is mainly about real Burmese refugees in Malaysia experiencing the arrest-detention-deportation process. The book documents the suffering and pain refugees in Malaysia go through because Malaysians have denied them their basic human rights, some knowingly, some unknowingly.



This will be the first time i'm having a hand in writing a book. Not just any book, but a book that will hopefully create more awareness among Malaysians. I always thought writing a book is like blogging. Inspiration comes along and you just sit down and type away. Oh boy i was more than wrong.



Blogging is truly expressing what you feel, whenever you like it, in any format ( or not ) you'd like to write it in. Wherelse when you are attempting to Write a book, there's so many angles, do's and don'ts, contraints that you have to think about before stringing your ideas into passages.



I think i'd stick to blogging. There's too many issues on how to be politically correct since it is not fiction. While there will be a substantial part of the book which i contributed to, i hope that it will make at least half the impact i'd like it to make.



Somehow, i can't help feeling a little proud of myself... *grin*