From a friend to a traitor

You sometimes have to betray a friendship to be loyal to a cause.

COMMENT

When I was a little girl, I would visit my late grandpa at Halfway Road, Penang every fortnight. I would spend the morning chatting with him and when it was time for him to rest, I would explore Georgetown with my three childhood friends – Jasmin, Fazlina and Fatimah.

My friends’ lives were not like mine. Jasmin’s dad was not well and her mother was the breadwinner. This meant she, the eldest of five, had to pitch in ─ chopping firewood, doing laundry, taking care of her siblings and grinding raw rice with a pestle for her mother’s apam shop. Fazlina and Fatimah’s lives weren’t much different.

My three childhood friends did not often get what they wanted but they made up for what they lacked by window shopping and people watching – and I would join them every opportunity I got.

Once when I was eleven, the four of us went on one of our adventures around Georgetown. As we walked on the streets of Transfer Road, sucking on our ais kapai, Jasmin suggested that we head to Tong Aik Emporium for a window shopping spree. We jumped on the idea. Going back home would have only meant more chores for them.

At Tong Aik, we explored the shoes and handbags and finally headed to the accessories section. There, Fatimah, Jasmin and Fazlina chose four earrings – one for each of us .

“You both keep this,” said Fatimah, as she slipped two pairs of earrings into my pocket and two more into Fazlina’s pockets and started walking away.

I was stunned. Just as I was about to replace the earrings on the glass rack, a sales person walked up to me, to ask if I wanted to purchase anything.

“Saja tengok-tengok,” Jasmin said, grabbed my arm and led me out of the emporium.

When we reached home, Fatimah began distributing the earrings. I refused to accept “mine”. I argued that stealing was wrong. It was a sin and my parents would be disappointed if they found out.

“Then make sure they don’t find out,” was Jasmin’s response.

“That’s lying,” I rebutted.

“It is not lying if you don’t say anything,” Fatimah interjected.

“But it is not the truth. Furthermore, God knows,” I said with butterflies in my tummy.

“It’s easy for you to say. You get everything you want. You are not like us,” Fatimah grabbed the earrings from my hand and continued, “I guess you are not one of us.”

I felt really bad about the incident. I should have understood them better. I should have supported them because they were my best friends. As a little girl, I found it so confusing. Should I be a loyal friend and ignore the fact that they did something wrong? That would definitely be the easier choice but it would also make me an accomplice. Or should I do the right thing and tell someone about what had happened regardless of the consequences?

In the end, I decided to tell Jasmin’s mom about the incident. I am not sure what Jasmin’s mom did with the information I gave her. What I do know is that Jasmin, Fazlina and Fatimah ended our friendship. For years, none of them spoke to me. And trips to grandpa’s house weren’t as exciting anymore.

I was no longer a friend but a traitor. I had betrayed their friendship.

Nothing seems to have changed much today, some thirty years later. The word traitor is being brandished around and used on those who are trying to uncover the truth. The thing is, the majority of Malaysians also want to know the truth behind 1MDB and everything else that is ailing our country now. Does this make us all traitors?

I decided to speak the truth at eleven and have tried to do so in my columns. I call it like I see it. I try to be frank and honest and sometimes it does not sit too well with some quarters. In reality, like I learned the hard way at eleven, you sometimes have to betray a friendship to be loyal to a cause.

Don’t we all have the same cause here ─ a better Malaysia? If we really want what we say we want, we are going to have to make some difficult choices about truth and loyalty.

Are we prepared to do this?