What unity means – the Yasmin way

Like the playwright, we have to do what we can to show what a united Malaysia ought to be.

JULY 23, 2009 was a Thursday. I was hardly three months into my job as chairman of a media company when she visited me at my office.

I had known her years before; both of us came from Muar. “You must listen to this!” she said excitedly.

Listening to the late Yasmin Ahmad telling you her ideas was like watching one of her movies or commercials. I was transfixed. It was indeed a brilliant story.

She was soon ushered upstairs for a meeting. It was in that meeting that she collapsed and was rushed to the hospital nearby.

She succumbed to stroke a few days later. Like everyone else who knew her, I was devastated.

But the story that she told me haunts me to this day. It was a typical Yasmin story – about Malaysians, about diversity and togetherness. It was about the united colours of this beloved country.

It was a story of three boys – a Malay, a Chinese and an Indian – living in an orphanage. They heard about Malaya gaining its independence. They wanted to witness the ceremony at Stadium Merdeka.

To do that, they had to sneak out and make their way to Kuala Lumpur. They did, hitch-hiking their way to the city.

The Malay boy was holding a poster of a famous starlet of the time. In a friendly tussle in a lorry, the Chinese guy snatched it and put in his pocket.

They were at the terraces of Stadium Merdeka when Tunku Abdul Rahman shouted the word “Merdeka” seven times.

But they were too exhausted after the arduous journey; they were sound asleep during the entire ceremony.

Fast forward to the present: an ageing Malay gentleman at the airport was waiting for his Indian friend. They hugged silently for a while.

The Indian gentleman gave him something – the old poster, the one the Chinese boy had kept since they were in a lorry going to KL. With misty eyes they clasped each other’s hands, perhaps remembering the Chinese friend who had since passed away.

I thought that was sublime! A story of true friendship that spans many decades.

They lived separately but what happened in 1957 still bound them forever. That is a typical Yasmin story of coming to terms with differences and celebrating diversity.

We have seen that in many of the commercials she made for TV, including the incredibly popular Tan Hong Ming in Love, among others.

And of course her films Sepet, Gubra, Mukhsin and Talentime. Those were not easy films to make, under any circumstances.

In a society grappling with racial and religious sensitivities and lots of historical and emotional baggage, Yasmin knew the dangers. But she soldiered on regardless, for she believed her camera could help change the prism of our beliefs and perceptions.

She was concerned about our people drifting apart. She knew cinema is a powerful tool to convey such a message.

We are celebrating our 60th Merdeka this month. We have gone far as a nation.

We have achieved so much; perhaps we could have done better. We used to be the poster boy for tolerance and unity. But sadly, things have changed for the worse of late.

The air is full of racial toxicity. Everything is perceived from a racial point of view.

Religiosity, too, is rearing its ugly head. Politics is not helping. Many politicians from both sides of the political divide are trying to win votes by playing the racial and religious cards.

That is not how our forefathers envisioned this country to be. We can be a great country.

It must begin with empowering the people – our precious assets. The future lies in our investment in the young.

But we can’t achieve our goals if we fail to address issues pertaining to race relations. We can only expect greater things to come if we believe wholeheartedly in a united Malaysia.

I am always envious of the Indonesians when it comes to celebrating their Independence Day. They don’t need a campaign to raise their “Sang Saka Merah Putih”.

They know deep down, when it comes to Hari Kemerdekaan, they celebrate as one, as a nation. They put aside whatever differences – political or otherwise. They don’t need to discuss what entails loyalty and love for the country.

Alone, Yasmin couldn’t change bigotry and racism. But in her little ways, she meandered through racial and religious minefields in her films to show what a united Malaysia ought to be.

On this auspicious moment, let her spirit and that of many others like her prevail.

Dirgahayu Malaysiaku! (Long live

my Malaysia!)

We used to be the poster boy for tolerance and unity. But sadly, things have changed for the worse of late.