Who is an ‘anak’ Malaysia?

The country is at its best when its multi-racial and multi-religious people don’t live in silos.

AN anak Malaysia can be someone whose childhood is unique because he grew up in Kota Kinabalu. In the 1970s, he studied in a Catholic mission school, Sekolah Rendah Stella Maris, in Tanjung Aru near the Sabah capital.

His childhood was shaped by his classmates, who came from the state’s major races and religions as well as its minorities.

In Primary Six, in his 6 Biru (blue) class, about 30% of his classmates were Chinese Catholic or Buddhist, about 30% Bajau Muslim and 30% Kadazandusun Catholic.

And there were the dan lain lain (others) such as Melvin Gomez, who is Serani

(Eurasian); V. Malathy, an Indian Hindu; Judith Delos Santos and her cousin John Bernard Delos Santos, both Filipino Catholic; and an orang Malaya, Zalina Ismail.

I consider myself, a Kadazandusun Catholic, lucky as I didn’t grow up in a silo — I have attended a Malay wedding in rural Kedah and I was the only non-Malay guest. Silo as in I have been to a wedding in a new village in Penang and I was the only non-Chinese there.

Sabah is unique. We’ve got Sabahans who come from multi-ethnic and multi-religious backgrounds.

Take my 6 Biru classmate Rosnah Tahee. She’s Chinese and Kadazandusun. She’s a Catholic with a “Muslim” name.

“I grew up with no religious or racial barriers. I was free to eat and drink with friends who were of a different religion or race than mine. I sometimes slept over at their houses,” Rosnah said when I brought up the subject of diversity in our SR Stella Maris Class 79’ WhatsApp group.

“I never knew what Muslim, Christian or Buddhist was when I was growing up. My mum’s parents and siblings converted to Islam.

“Only my mum and another brother are non-Muslims but we still live as a family. The most important thing is respect.”

Stella Maris’ diversity was also a learning experience for Rosnah.

“I had multi-racial and multi-religious classmates whom I respected and they respected me. We didn’t have differences and there was no hatred.

“We played zero point (skipping over a rope made of rubber bands), main batu

(throwing, flipping and catching pebbles), and police and thieves (a tag game in which the “police” catches the “thief ”) with good team spirit and great enthusiasm,” she said.

“Memories of zero point can never fade. I remember the dancing and singing with some of the girls – Lucia, Florence, Fauziah and Valerie,” said Judith.

Norliza Dzulkifli recalled her childhood where “we seldom bothered about religion or race”.

“In the good old days, there were no boundaries. That’s why we can play and eat together,” she said.

“I, myself, a Muslim/Eurasian, acknowledge that where my house is, that’s where my kampung (village) is.”

She added that “my kampung is where you feel you belong to”.

At the time, it was a new experience living in Kota Kinabalu for Zalina.

It was exposure to a culture that could not be found in Peninsular Malaysia.

Her dad was a soldier. And he was transferred from an army camp in Ipoh to Lok Kawi camp near Kota Kinabalu.

Being an anak askar (child of a soldier), she was used to moving around. In Ipoh, she stud-

I was free to eat and drink with friends who were of a different religion or race. Rosnah Tahee

ied in Marian Convent, where she had many Chinese friends.

“We could get along very well those days (in Ipoh). We went to the houses of Chinese and Indian friends and ate snacks, and they came to my house.

“It was normal back then. Not many kids do that nowadays and that’s a sad thing,” she said.

When Zalina arrived in Kota Kinabalu, it was not a big thing for her although it was a different environment.

Since Stella Maris was a Catholic mission school, the Catholic students would say the Hail Mary prayer in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary during assembly.

“It did not menggugat (threaten) my religion. It is because since young, I have been taught about my religion.

“I also attended religious school in the army camp,” she said, adding she also entered the Stella Maris Church a few times.

“I also had many Muslim friends in Stella Maris bah – Azura, Liza, Rohana, Rien, Gee and Hamdan.”

The school head was the strict Sister Mary Rosalind, who I remember was always carrying a rotan (cane).

If memory serves me, she “allegedly” caned me several times. She believed in giving the multireligious students an education and not a religion.

But Stella Maris was not devoid of unintended racism. I’m guilty of it.

I was probably not racist but nakal (naughty). I called Malathy names as she was from a minority race in Sabah.

Malathy, sia minta maaf bah (I ask for your forgiveness). I hope I didn’t scar your childhood.

Zalina remembers me calling her orang Malaya. She used a polite word – usik (to disturb).

She spoke with a peninsular Malay accent and she recalled that many couldn’t understand her.

“Sometimes I cried in school as there were students who made fun of the way I spoke,” she said. “You too liked to usik the way I spoke.

“Sometimes there were friends who told me go back to peninsular Malaysia. ‘What are you doing here?’ they would ask. I remember saying to them, ‘If you disturb me, I’ll kick you.’”

Luckily, those hurtful words didn’t stop Zalina, who lives in Kuala Lumpur, from returning to Sabah for holidays.

On Sunday, I’ll be walking with other anakanak Malaysia during the #AnakAnakMalaysia Walk at Eco Ardence, Setia Alam, Selangor.

The event is a collaboration between Malaysia’s well-known property developer Eco World Development Group Bhd and Star Media Group.

I’ll walk representing my diverse Stella Maris classmates.