Between London and Kuala Lumpur
A nation is built on complex and sometimes painful relationships. The key to unity is sharing hope and healing.
A PERSONAL predicament recently had me longing to return to Malaysia straightaway. However, my brain overruled my heart, and I found myself moving to London for the summer.
My work in London allows me to engage with those affected by central government policies, analyse the data and provide critical recommendations. I am privileged to be learning so much in my current position that I am glad for once I did not follow my heart.
Two weeks in, I am finding similarities between London and Kuala Lumpur. Perhaps my wish to “be back in KL” subconsciously came true after all.
To begin with, the average temperature in London these days is 32°C, with most of the tube lines and buildings lacking airconditioning.
London’s diversity and, I must admit, socioeconomic inequality reminds me of Kuala Lumpur – more so than the more homogenous Oxford, where I was for the past 10 months.
London also seems to be a favourite holiday destination for many Malaysians, and by extension, it seems to be a favourite destination for Malaysians living abroad, with 59,000 Malaysianborn migrants living in the UK as at 2013.
“Kota London”, as I fondly call it, is indeed Kuala Lumpur.
Such gravitational pull towards similarity and familiarity is common among migrants. Malaysians are also more comfortable being known simply as Malaysians when we are overseas, rather than sticking to the boxes of Malay, Chinese, Indian, Sabahan, Sarawakian and “dan lain lain” that we are so accustomed to back home.
I have yet to unpack why this is so. But I wish to share three stories here that I hope will get readers of this column thinking about our “national identity”.
The first story involved a gay man who was outed by a fellow Malaysian, causing him to lose his scholarship. He was also informed that he would face legal repercussions should he return to Malaysia. He sought asylum in the UK and apparently has made a happy and successful life for himself.
In his own words, he may have been disowned by his birth family following the incident, but he has formed his own family over the years he has lived as a British citizen. Despite the hurt caused initially by a Malaysian, he has chosen to include Malaysians in London as part of his new family and he warmly greets visiting Malaysians and those who have recently moved to London.
The second story is of a transgender woman who is accepted by her Malaysian family but has chosen to live and thrive in London. She was upset that not many Malaysians stand up for the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and all those who identify within the nonbinary gender and nonheteronormative sexuality spectrum (LGBTQ+), causing stigma and discrimination of the community.
In her words, if more LGBTQ+ individuals “come out” and live openly, especially those with social status, then the community will be normalised.
I argued that Malaysians who are LGBTQ+ face the backlash of violence, threats and professional repercussions.
Therefore, what she expects of them is too big a burden to bear. That only made her more upset and I did not press the argument.
The third is a love story. A woman fell in love with an English man and moved to London, after having gone through years of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her former Malaysian husband.
She lost custody of her children and was prevented from visiting them. In her words, her former husband purposely did so to “teach her a lesson”.
She could only reconnect with her children following the death of her former husband. She visits them annually, and have them coming to London to visit her – a family together again, reconnected and healing from past hurt and trauma.
All three individuals still speak passionately of the events back home. Somehow, they still feel connected to Malaysia.
The fact that they now hold British citizenship is almost perfunctory. I am not questioning their loyalty to their home today, but I want to highlight how each individual still has this connection to a country that has made them feel excluded and rejected, and has caused them a lot of hurt.
Do their opinions matter in shap ing our current sociopolitical climate or do they forfeit the right to be Malaysian when they give up their citizenship? How about Malaysians living in Malaysia who simply refuse to vote and to bother about current affairs; do their opinions matter?
More importantly, these stories are mere snapshots of the complexity of relationships we have among people of a nation. These stories exist everywhere and are sadly not unique to migrants from Malaysia.
It begs the question of whether we will ever see a kind and inclusive society rather than a discriminatory, hateful one.
Regardless of the levers pulled through central government policies, the crux is the relationships that build families, families that build community, and communities that build a nation.
To really come together in unity, Malaysians need to share our stories and find hope and healing within them.