Race-based stories – Malaysia’s Chicken Soup for the Soul

It is sad that today we are overwhelmed with emotion when we hear of those from one race helping others of a different race as if it was something so out of the ordinary.

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A Facebook friend contacted me yesterday, saying he had a good story for me to write about. Since I try my best not to decline stories or a chance to makan free, I said OK lah.

As a Chinese who lived in India for many years, he picked a lovely restaurant for our first meeting. Later that evening – with palak paneer, chicken tandoori and a couple of butter naans between us, he began his story:

“I was around Section 14 Petaling Jaya yesterday, rushing for a meeting and I was already running late. As I hurriedly walked past an elderly Chinese man, he suddenly fell head first to the ground. I immediately stopped to help him – the gash on his forehead was bleeding. As I helped him to his feet, a Malay motorcyclist stopped to offer help. A Malay hawker who was nearby also came to help to us. Together, we used some water and pieces of tissue to clean his wound.”

“This old man had a pair of broken sunglasses with him. I asked him if it broke when he fell. He said they were from the rubbish bin and were already broken when he found them. I knew there were many homeless people around in PJ Section 14 and so I assumed he was one of them. I asked him how old he was and he said 83. All three of us felt sorry for him and we did our best to make sure he was okay. His bleeding stopped soon after and the two Malays bid farewell and went their separate ways.”

“I checked my watch and winced as I was extremely late for my meeting but I felt bad to leave the old man. So I told him to wait for a few minutes while I went to find an ATM so I could give him a bit of cash. He refused at first, saying he needed to hurry home as his wife and kids were waiting for him. Based on his physical state, I felt he was just saying that to feel wanted and to show he belonged somewhere.”

“Anyway, I found an ATM not too far away and got back to him in just a few minutes. I found him sitting at a corner with a blank stare. When I handed him some cash, he asked me why I was giving him the money. I said because God made him fall in my way. He nodded slowly, stood up and tapped me on my shoulder lightly before walking away.”

I commended him for his kindness and generosity but he was quick to stop me.

“I’m sharing this story not to highlight what I did, but more importantly the help that I got. You see, in many cases, it’s always the Malays who are the first responders when there is an urgent call for help. Whatever we may read on FB, in real life, there’s still a great many good people around! This gives me hope in our great nation (not the government nor the politicians though) but the people…”

As I drove home that night, my heart filled with good thoughts knowing there were amazing people living around us. At the same time however, I couldn’t fathom why my heart felt all warm and fuzzy after hearing that story. I mean, shouldn’t it be the duty of every civic-minded member of society to help one another in times of need?

It is sad that today we feel overwhelmed with emotion when we hear of people from one race helping others of a different race as if it was something so out of the ordinary and hence cause for celebration. Stories of an Indian doctor helping a Malay pakcik who met an accident, a Malay widow raising Chinese boys as her own and now the story of a couple of Malay strangers helping a homeless Chinese man. Since when has race-based humanitarian stories become Malaysia’s Chicken Soup for the Soul?

Our excitement over such incidents speaks volumes about the state of our society today. Doesn’t every human being have a moral obligation to help another in times of need? It does not matter what race, religion or gender we are. Our political stand does not matter, neither does our fashion sense, blood type or even our peculiar habits and behaviours.

Human beings should help other human beings. Period.