An Uncaring Malaysia Day

I AM WRITING this, my first article on rakyattimes, a day after Malaysia Day.

As I do, I can't help but reflect back on my life being born as a disabled person in our beloved country almost 54-years ago.

That's, mind you, more than half a century of confronting challenges, innumerable adventures, as well as misadventures for a Malaysian living in our society with a disability.

A botched surgery at the age of 10 put me permanently in a wheelchair.

It wasn't until much later when I found out that the operation conducted by a paediatric orthopaedic specialist was really to make himself famous (if it was successful) instead of trying to cure my condition.

The hospital didn't want to see me anymore after the three-month experiment and neither did the primary school in which I was studying.

It was "way too expensive", they said, to make a wheelchair-friendly cubicle in the washroom of the school and restructuring my classes so that it could be held downstairs instead of upstairs wasn't worth the trouble. This, even though I had been top in my class for over three years when I was walking with a severe limp on my right foot.

I was pretty much banished in my home 24/7 after that. I had only my dog to keep me company when my able-bodied siblings were in school.

It was also strange that my parents themselves didn't think of educating me at the time. Perhaps the horrifying words from the doctors who told them that I wouldn't live long after birth must have been still haunting in their minds.

All these negative perceptions and reinforcements told me that I was not only a useless creature as long as I was in a wheelchair, but that I should definitely stay out of the way of the able-bodied for whom our society was designed for.

The only Merdeka events I heard or knew about were the annual parades I watched 'live' on TV.

And the only excitement that I got was to hear the roar of the jets fly over my house in Petaling Jaya after they were done with their performance in Kuala Lumpur.

My teenage years threw me into deep depression. I was not able to go out into the nearby local community park because of the lack of access for my wheelchair.

The Petaling Jaya City Council (MBPJ) became my biggest enemy.

I imagined every director who sat behind the desk to be a horrible monster. it was obvious that their jobs were to keep handicapped people out of every fun things in the city.

My depression eventually led me to develop life-threatening pressure sores on my body. These were caused by sitting for long periods in a wheelchair or sleeping on the bed.

In no time, I was back to the horrible hospital again where I was admitted and treated for over two years.

However, the good side of being hospitalised was that I was able to meet others whose conditions were far worse than mine. Quite a few of them were even in a terminal state.

It was about then when an extremely kind British couple who met me decided to sponsor me to Singapore for treatment. My pressure sores were gone within two weeks!

It was then that I decided to stop believing in all the lies that society told me about my disability. I tried virtually doing everything I possibly could which I previously thought was simply not possible for someone in a wheelchair.

I learnt to swim. That lead me to learn the piano afterwards.

I went on a three-month sponsored trip to United States where strangely enough, I was able to celebrate my true Merdeka at last.

The training given to me - conducted by people more handicapped that I was - sent me on a number of adventures I thought was utter madness.

I went water-skiing in my wheelchair on a speedboat. I also went white water  rafting down the McKenzie river in Oregon. These were special ability events conducted by Mobility International USA in Eugene to help build disabled people's confidence. 

However one of the biggest impacts in my life was to take the public bus daily from my home-stay families to the training centre. 

     

All I needed to do to was to wait until the steps of the bus magically turned into a lift to take my wheelchair on it. After the bus driver helps to securely strap me into my seat slot, I would be off to my various destinations.

I couldn't do such a thing in Malaysia!

This was all done through the push of several buttons. Even though this technology was made available in the late eighties, it has yet to be adopted by our Malaysian buses which are using inferior and unreliable methods currently. 

Things continued to improve significantly for me after my American trip. I am a writer now and was councillor for MBPJ for five years from 2008 - 2013.

As councillor, I managed to get not only that park's access way near my house properly fixed by the local authorities but others around PJ as well with special wheelchair access.

It's extremely important for all of us to realise that it isn't our personal disabilities that cripple us but the attitudes of society and the government - when our inalienable rights to our needs are ignored.

Only when we all make a conscious effort to change them, only then will Malaysians with disabilities be truly able to celebrate Malaysia Day.