"Sometimes, it's like loving someone who doesn't love you back." - Orked describing Malaysia, in Yasmin Ahmad's ‘Gubra’ (2006).
The late Yasmin Ahmad hit the nail on its head when she eloquently described how some Malaysians view their country of birth. All her films and commercials spoke about the need to break racial boundaries in Malaysia.
At home, we have Home Minister Ahmad Zahid Hamidi (left) saying to Malaysians, "those who are not confident of the current political system to 'berhijrah' to countries with political systems that suited them". With statements like that, who can blame Malaysians for leaving in droves.
For many Malaysians overseas, emigrating has come at a great price, they fight a huge emotional and spiritual deficit as they try to engage in a new and alien society.
Having lived abroad for the past 15 years and having engaged with overseas Malaysians living in Australia, I came across two distinct categories of Malaysian immigrants.
The first category are the highly engaged Malaysians - those who still keep up-to-date with news from home, and even attend Bersih rallies in their respective cities.
They seem genuinely happy to meet other Malaysians and regale with fond memories of their favourite food and places in Malaysia. Often, they speak fondly of Malaysians, and the many family and friends they had left behind.
Most of them feel sad, that as much as home beckons them to head back, they know that there are many issues that prevent them from doing so.
On social media, they seem very vocal, unafraid of any consequences that their posts may be tracked by the government.
The second category are the disengaged Malaysians that have completely forsaken the country and doomed it a 'basket case', having lost complete faith in the country.
Many of them seem contented with their adopted country, and count their lucky stars that they had ‘escaped' Malaysia and display an 'out-of-sight, out-of-mind' attitude.
In fact, upon more research, I found out that some Malaysians who emigrated in the 1970s (after May 13, incident) and 1980s (Operasi Lalang) were in fact, more engaged than recent migrants in the 2000s.
There are many reasons for this, one being that those who moved in the 1970s and 80s seemed more settled and had more time on their hands.
Although some have not made peace with the hurt and rejection from their own country of birth, but many were willing to be involved to see a change of government in their lifetime.
To help me understand why some were disengaged with the country, I decided to interview three ex-Malaysians, Jeremy, Rubiah and Lee Chin (names changed to respect the privacy of the subjects), who emigrated and now live in Auckland, Melbourne and Sydney respectively.
Tell us a bit about your background, and your reason for emigrating?
Jeremy: I was born in Malacca in 1973 and as my father worked for the government, we moved around quite a bit. I lived in Kedah for a while before finishing my schooling in Seremban. In 1996, I opted to pursue my bachelor's degree in Auckland, where I have been living since.
I am a Chinese Malaysian. After completing my studies in New Zealand, I was offered a position in a local firm.
Even at this time, I had every intention to move back to Malaysia once I had completed a sufficient amount of work experience. However, my plans started to change as I began to get accustomed to the lifestyle here.
Rubiah: Born and raised as a Malay, I always felt that I have to work just as hard as anybody else. I could never fit into any particular group. I was very individualistic and this proved very hard to live my life the way I wanted in Malaysia.
I didn't want to be a sheep and do what others told me to do just because. My mum used to say to me, "Buat aje lah. Tradisi semua ni (just do it, it's tradition)." I felt that many of the traditions and rules were meant to be broken, especially if it didn't make sense.
There are many disparities between myself and what is considered normal in Malaysia. When I moved to Australia initially for studies, I felt that I had found a new society to fit in.
Lee Chin: I was born in Kelantan in 1975. From my early memories of Kelantan, the ruling party was PAS, and there was a strong sense that non-Muslims were getting more and more pressured to assimilate.
At the same time, the government initiated the bumiputera legislation, so my parents felt that my future education was going to be compromised.
They decided to move to Australia as they felt it was the least religiously focused country. America, to them, had similar levels of religion-state involvement and the UK was too cold. So in 1987, the whole family uprooted to Australia. I have been living in Sydney for 27 years now.
When you think of Malaysia, how do you feel?
Jeremy: To be honest, I feel impartial towards Malaysia as I have been away for so long that I had begun to feel more like a tourist whenever I visit home.
In some aspects, I am very proud of my heritage and upbringing - which I always boast about to my colleagues and friends - that has allowed my integration into New Zealand society.
On the other hand, I also feel embarrassed and disenfranchised by the politics and the functioning socio-economics of Malaysia.
It has been nearly 20 years since I left Malaysia and it just seems that there have been very little progress made to improve the lives of the citizens; the prospects of better and affordable education is still in the mire; and the distrust that lies among the various ethnicities has not lessened.
Rubiah: When I moved overseas in 2005, things weren't that bad but I can feel the Islamisation of Malaysia. It is getting more radical now that I have been too scared to go back as I will stand out.
The last time I went back was three years ago. I am scared that there will be less tolerant of others as many of the Malays and Muslims in Malaysia are very susceptible to religious indoctrination.
On the contrary here, whereas I will always look, talk and act different but somehow that doesn't seem to matter to this society. True that racism exists everywhere but at least here, I am competing on level ground.
To be honest, I did feel 'cheated' if any submission or application I made got approved due to my race. I can still remember that for my SPM, it was the only year they changed the acceptance logarithm into public universities by merit.
I worked just as hard and got into the programme that I wanted. A year later, the minister announced that they would revert back to racial quota due to 'unpopularity' and would assist more Malays with education.
Now I have an Australian husband and we share the same values in life despite our differences; I am afraid that this fact alone won’t satisfy those overzealous religious policies.
Lee Chin: Sad, as I see so much potential for all this race/religion issue to be put aside.
My mum fondly remembers her uni days in the 1960s, where her Malay, Indian and Chinese mates would hang out for Deepavali, Chinese New Year and Hari Raya.
Then slowly, there was a sense that you couldn't hang out because you may pollute another's home being 'haram'. She stopped getting invitations for Hari Raya in the few years leading up to our move to Australia.
To me, I view Malaysians as being friendly, warm and hospitable but politics and religion get in the way.
In my last trip, I spoke to a Malay taxi driver who was anti-government, and was telling me how the population in Kuala Lumpur was more united across race than ever.
He said he felt like a brother to the Chinese and Indians who protested against the government.
I hope that this feeling of mistrust will go away as people get more educated on politics and unite against a common enemy.
It sounds very simplistic, but I actually felt a little emotional when the taxi driver was so open about how united he felt. It felt like this was a big change, and I hope the momentum continues.
Would you move back to Malaysia?
Jeremy: I do not believe that I am able to move back. The governing systems, the steely grip on traditions, the level of high productivity and competition, unhealthy obsession with material gains, the lack of recognition of human, citizenry and employee rights still seem prevalent in Malaysia and in my opinion, is robbing the soul and spirit of the nation.
Rubiah: Maybe not for now. Although I was born a Malaysian but I always see myself as a citizen of the world.
The country has created a barrier for me since I was young so I vowed to myself that I would break the tradition to be successful. When I have kids, I would encourage them to learn about my background as my husband's family is very supportive of mixing cultures.
Lee Chin: Not sure. My mum still talks about the May 13 race riots. It saddens me that the possibility of this actually exists. And I have heard that many ethnic Chinese believe this is possible. I see potential but it doesn't mean I want to bet my life on it.
Sometimes, I feel that ethnic Chinese create their own enclaves and ,therefore, perpetuate their own isolation.
They send their kids to Chinese-only schools, and ask me why I don't speak Mandarin at home. It is as if the fever of ethnic identity over rides the Malaysian identity.
The Chinese community also tends to stand by the sidelines, instead of investing in political change of the country. It sounds stereotypical but I think they fear retribution (May 13 riots) and would rather see what happens than be directly involved in change.
On the flip side, I feel that Malaysia is so much more "me" in so many ways. The casual dress, the sense of belonging and the laid back lifestyle.
Jilted lover
The interview I conducted with them was merely to understand why some ex-Malaysians feel or think the way they do. It is not my intention to pass any judgement or to say what is right or wrong.
What I can conclude is, for some, there are still unhappy memories and deep scars that need healing. They have put their patriotism aside to focus on building their new lives in their adopted country.
Many of them feel like a jilted lover, and to woo them back, their trust needs to be rebuilt and earned.
Maybe one day, they may see their love for their home country being reciprocated.
KEVIN BATHMAN is a Malaysian based in Sydney. He is interested in using creativity to address social justice issues. An advocate for eliminating racial politics, he is deeply engaged with Malaysian politics and its future.
The late Yasmin Ahmad hit the nail on its head when she eloquently described how some Malaysians view their country of birth. All her films and commercials spoke about the need to break racial boundaries in Malaysia.
At home, we have Home Minister Ahmad Zahid Hamidi (left) saying to Malaysians, "those who are not confident of the current political system to 'berhijrah' to countries with political systems that suited them". With statements like that, who can blame Malaysians for leaving in droves.For many Malaysians overseas, emigrating has come at a great price, they fight a huge emotional and spiritual deficit as they try to engage in a new and alien society.
Having lived abroad for the past 15 years and having engaged with overseas Malaysians living in Australia, I came across two distinct categories of Malaysian immigrants.
The first category are the highly engaged Malaysians - those who still keep up-to-date with news from home, and even attend Bersih rallies in their respective cities.
They seem genuinely happy to meet other Malaysians and regale with fond memories of their favourite food and places in Malaysia. Often, they speak fondly of Malaysians, and the many family and friends they had left behind.
Most of them feel sad, that as much as home beckons them to head back, they know that there are many issues that prevent them from doing so.
On social media, they seem very vocal, unafraid of any consequences that their posts may be tracked by the government.
The second category are the disengaged Malaysians that have completely forsaken the country and doomed it a 'basket case', having lost complete faith in the country.
Many of them seem contented with their adopted country, and count their lucky stars that they had ‘escaped' Malaysia and display an 'out-of-sight, out-of-mind' attitude.
In fact, upon more research, I found out that some Malaysians who emigrated in the 1970s (after May 13, incident) and 1980s (Operasi Lalang) were in fact, more engaged than recent migrants in the 2000s.There are many reasons for this, one being that those who moved in the 1970s and 80s seemed more settled and had more time on their hands.
Although some have not made peace with the hurt and rejection from their own country of birth, but many were willing to be involved to see a change of government in their lifetime.
To help me understand why some were disengaged with the country, I decided to interview three ex-Malaysians, Jeremy, Rubiah and Lee Chin (names changed to respect the privacy of the subjects), who emigrated and now live in Auckland, Melbourne and Sydney respectively.
Tell us a bit about your background, and your reason for emigrating?
Jeremy: I was born in Malacca in 1973 and as my father worked for the government, we moved around quite a bit. I lived in Kedah for a while before finishing my schooling in Seremban. In 1996, I opted to pursue my bachelor's degree in Auckland, where I have been living since.
I am a Chinese Malaysian. After completing my studies in New Zealand, I was offered a position in a local firm.
Even at this time, I had every intention to move back to Malaysia once I had completed a sufficient amount of work experience. However, my plans started to change as I began to get accustomed to the lifestyle here.
Rubiah: Born and raised as a Malay, I always felt that I have to work just as hard as anybody else. I could never fit into any particular group. I was very individualistic and this proved very hard to live my life the way I wanted in Malaysia.
I didn't want to be a sheep and do what others told me to do just because. My mum used to say to me, "Buat aje lah. Tradisi semua ni (just do it, it's tradition)." I felt that many of the traditions and rules were meant to be broken, especially if it didn't make sense.
There are many disparities between myself and what is considered normal in Malaysia. When I moved to Australia initially for studies, I felt that I had found a new society to fit in.
Lee Chin: I was born in Kelantan in 1975. From my early memories of Kelantan, the ruling party was PAS, and there was a strong sense that non-Muslims were getting more and more pressured to assimilate.
At the same time, the government initiated the bumiputera legislation, so my parents felt that my future education was going to be compromised.
They decided to move to Australia as they felt it was the least religiously focused country. America, to them, had similar levels of religion-state involvement and the UK was too cold. So in 1987, the whole family uprooted to Australia. I have been living in Sydney for 27 years now.
When you think of Malaysia, how do you feel?
Jeremy: To be honest, I feel impartial towards Malaysia as I have been away for so long that I had begun to feel more like a tourist whenever I visit home.
In some aspects, I am very proud of my heritage and upbringing - which I always boast about to my colleagues and friends - that has allowed my integration into New Zealand society.
On the other hand, I also feel embarrassed and disenfranchised by the politics and the functioning socio-economics of Malaysia.
It has been nearly 20 years since I left Malaysia and it just seems that there have been very little progress made to improve the lives of the citizens; the prospects of better and affordable education is still in the mire; and the distrust that lies among the various ethnicities has not lessened.
Rubiah: When I moved overseas in 2005, things weren't that bad but I can feel the Islamisation of Malaysia. It is getting more radical now that I have been too scared to go back as I will stand out.
The last time I went back was three years ago. I am scared that there will be less tolerant of others as many of the Malays and Muslims in Malaysia are very susceptible to religious indoctrination.
On the contrary here, whereas I will always look, talk and act different but somehow that doesn't seem to matter to this society. True that racism exists everywhere but at least here, I am competing on level ground.
To be honest, I did feel 'cheated' if any submission or application I made got approved due to my race. I can still remember that for my SPM, it was the only year they changed the acceptance logarithm into public universities by merit.
I worked just as hard and got into the programme that I wanted. A year later, the minister announced that they would revert back to racial quota due to 'unpopularity' and would assist more Malays with education.
Now I have an Australian husband and we share the same values in life despite our differences; I am afraid that this fact alone won’t satisfy those overzealous religious policies.
Lee Chin: Sad, as I see so much potential for all this race/religion issue to be put aside.
My mum fondly remembers her uni days in the 1960s, where her Malay, Indian and Chinese mates would hang out for Deepavali, Chinese New Year and Hari Raya.
Then slowly, there was a sense that you couldn't hang out because you may pollute another's home being 'haram'. She stopped getting invitations for Hari Raya in the few years leading up to our move to Australia.
To me, I view Malaysians as being friendly, warm and hospitable but politics and religion get in the way.
In my last trip, I spoke to a Malay taxi driver who was anti-government, and was telling me how the population in Kuala Lumpur was more united across race than ever.
He said he felt like a brother to the Chinese and Indians who protested against the government.
I hope that this feeling of mistrust will go away as people get more educated on politics and unite against a common enemy.
It sounds very simplistic, but I actually felt a little emotional when the taxi driver was so open about how united he felt. It felt like this was a big change, and I hope the momentum continues.
Would you move back to Malaysia?
Jeremy: I do not believe that I am able to move back. The governing systems, the steely grip on traditions, the level of high productivity and competition, unhealthy obsession with material gains, the lack of recognition of human, citizenry and employee rights still seem prevalent in Malaysia and in my opinion, is robbing the soul and spirit of the nation.
Rubiah: Maybe not for now. Although I was born a Malaysian but I always see myself as a citizen of the world.
The country has created a barrier for me since I was young so I vowed to myself that I would break the tradition to be successful. When I have kids, I would encourage them to learn about my background as my husband's family is very supportive of mixing cultures.
Lee Chin: Not sure. My mum still talks about the May 13 race riots. It saddens me that the possibility of this actually exists. And I have heard that many ethnic Chinese believe this is possible. I see potential but it doesn't mean I want to bet my life on it.
Sometimes, I feel that ethnic Chinese create their own enclaves and ,therefore, perpetuate their own isolation.
They send their kids to Chinese-only schools, and ask me why I don't speak Mandarin at home. It is as if the fever of ethnic identity over rides the Malaysian identity.
The Chinese community also tends to stand by the sidelines, instead of investing in political change of the country. It sounds stereotypical but I think they fear retribution (May 13 riots) and would rather see what happens than be directly involved in change.
On the flip side, I feel that Malaysia is so much more "me" in so many ways. The casual dress, the sense of belonging and the laid back lifestyle.
Jilted lover
The interview I conducted with them was merely to understand why some ex-Malaysians feel or think the way they do. It is not my intention to pass any judgement or to say what is right or wrong.
What I can conclude is, for some, there are still unhappy memories and deep scars that need healing. They have put their patriotism aside to focus on building their new lives in their adopted country.
Many of them feel like a jilted lover, and to woo them back, their trust needs to be rebuilt and earned.
Maybe one day, they may see their love for their home country being reciprocated.
KEVIN BATHMAN is a Malaysian based in Sydney. He is interested in using creativity to address social justice issues. An advocate for eliminating racial politics, he is deeply engaged with Malaysian politics and its future.
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