I want my mama

Was driving home from work and was at the junction near my house when I thought to myself; ah, I want to see Mama today! I wanted to tell her about my new job, about the people I met, about the photobooks, and so much more.

Then I remembered, Mama’s no longer here.

It took a few seconds for that to sink it, and when it did, so did the sadness, like a blow to my face. Mama was gone. She’s no longer here. I parked my car quickly and rushed inside the house. No one was at home, not even my brother, for the first time, I can finally give myself over to the tears and grieve. My mama’s gone. Mama’s gone. Mama’s not here anymore.

I cannot remember a time when her presence was unimportant. I can’t remember a time when Mama was not around. I miss sitting next to her, my head on her shoulder, while she pouts on something.

I miss my mama. I want my mama. I want my mama.

[Civicness] Silence is not an option

I happened to read this post from the [Merch Girl]’s blog before I read Haris Ibrahim’s take on a dead Hindu man who was declared a Muslim at the last minute.

The first emotion that came to me was rage. I’m VERY angry at the way those in the position of power will attempt to do anything and everything they can to get money. That, and the fact that according to most of these “Muslims” there needs to be NO sensitivity spared for those mourning the loss of their beloved.

It is as though to these people, that a bereaving family does not deserve to be treated like human beings because they are not humans. That it’s perfectly fine to submit flimsy pieces of evidence (a conversion cert that did not even match the signature of the deceased!) and call that person a Muslim. Did I mention that these monsters also thought it fit to take away a BREAST-FEEDING CHILD FROM HER MOTHER because she was “of the wrong religion” and needed rehabilitation?

I’m sick of being treated like a second-class citizen because some people associate the idea of “Official Religion” with superiority. That debate is halted because calling into question the way Islam is treated in this country is an insult to that religion.

I’m sick of being told what to say, and what I cannot. I’m tired of being insulted. I’m so tired of watching my country get stolen despite the fact that we voted. I’m tired of racists who insist that I must recognise myself as a Malaysian first, but yet insist that they are Malays first before the country.

I’m sick of people who don’t know their jobs trying to tell me what to do. I hate that lies are so common here in Malaysia. That daughters, sisters and mothers who need safety are treated like animals to satisfy animals.

I’m tired of being ignored because I am a woman. I’m tired of watching my sisters be attacked because they are women, and they are women with powerful voices.

I will NOT remain silent. I WILL remember. I WILL SPEAK. I will WRITE. It is the only thing I can do.