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From the back seat of the calon's car
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"Akka, jump!" I had a vision of my husband telling my son �I�ve got some bad news, son ��. your mum has been squashed by a gas tank whilst trying to get the message across to the people .�..� My fellow balloonists who had long ago abandoned ship were screaming �Akka, Jump!� I tugged at my foot, abandoned the balloons and dived off the back of the lorry. We watched, sweating. The lorry rolled back, and back, and � miraculously stopped, its wheel an inch from the drain. The convoy with the calons (candidates) carried on oblivious. Was this a sign? And if so, what did it all mean? Anyone involved in elections, especially for the opposition, knows how much effort is involved. The huge mountains that have to be climbed, the obstructions that are put in your way, the relentless pressure of knowing that the media will trumpet the merits of the BN to the detriment of all else. We know that decent discussion, objectivity and fairness are as alien to the election process as cows to the moon. Anyone involved in elections, especially for the opposition, will know how hard you have to work just to get a toehold on the process. No money, no media, just a small band of utterly dedicated people � our machinery - and lots of heart. So when I went to Sg Siput to join in the PSM contest for both the parliamentary and state seats under the KeADILan ticket, I had the usual anxieties. What if the nomination forms were not filled correctly, what if we could not afford the deposit, what if the candidates lost their deposit, what if it was a 3-cornered fight, would we do better or worse than last time, what if this and what if that�There were so many �what-ifs�, I was exhausted before the campaigning could even begin. A sea of light blue Nomination day arrived. From now on, sleep was a luxury. Up at 5.00am and nervously looking through the nomination forms for the 100th time, the �what-ifs� were killing me. By 7am, people began to arrive at the Bilik Gerakan in Taman Orkid. Laughing, smiling they donned their T-shirts and picked up blue flags. A festive atmosphere hung in the air. Never mind about the other sides, this side was happy, in the mood, ready. We lined up orderly, without a ruckus, without blocking the traffic. And when the calons arrived, no fanfare greeted them. Instead, smiles and quiet warm wishes, hand shakes and greetings were exchanged with the knowledge that there was work to be done. Both calons took their places up front and then everyone began to walk - a steady brisk pace from the Bilik Gerakan (Operations Room)to the Nomination Centre. A 25-minute walk. This is a good part of the election! Passerbys smile, cars toot, people wave�� It�s a good moment. Of course I was still struggling with the nomination forms, including numerous spare sets, copies of Buku Panduan Calon (Candidates' Guide Book) and liquid paper (just in case) and was about to succumb to another severe �what-if� anxiety attack when I turned to look at the crowd. Anxiety disappeared. What a sight! A shimmering sea of light blue - people walking, talking, laughing, sweating, smiling. There we all were, old and young, making our way to the nomination centre, walking together because we believed in what we believed, we had our calons, we knew of the consistent and important work the calons had done in the years previously. We were together, we were smiling and we had hope. We nominated, we cheered, we got down to work. Youthful vitality
One week, that's all The week flew by. One week, that�s all the people of Malaysia had been allowed. Posters were up. Leaflets were distributed. Everyday both the calons went on regular walkabouts. Groups accompanied them; people from elsewhere in Malaysia came for a day, or two, and walked, and talked, sweated under the hot sun, and left. Pamphlets were given out, conversations held in coffee shops, in front gardens and by the roadside. People smiled, and nodded, and whispered, and many came forward to shake the calons� hands. And in the evenings, they attended the various ceramahs.. Election Commission, what are you doing? Meanwhile back at the Bilik Gerakan , plans were made for who should be where on Polling Day. Experience told us that we needed polling agents at every polling station, people who knew what to look out for and how to check for fraud. It was a huge task for a small party like PSM but people came forward to help. It was clear that the Election Commission was not particularly bothered about fraud. Changes in the law since the last election had made it more difficult to challenge voters suspected of being phantom voters. The electoral rolls were now distributed by the Commission as PDF files rather than EXCEL � meaning, for those of you who haven�t spent many a happy hour trying to see how many people are actually registered at 218, Taman Something, that it was now extremely difficult to search efficiently for fraud. One would have thought that the Election Commission would be delighted to have any help it can get in weeding out cheats � but apparently not. Loud music vs Mission Impossible As the week moved on, little �events� were planned and executed. On the Tuesday, the party launched the booklet �Skandal: Pengundi Hantu di Sg Siput� (Scandal: Phantom voters in Sg Siput). This was a booklet that documents clearly the way phantom voters had been used in the last election. This is cheating, an insult to democracy, an insult to Malaysians. Dismal media coverage greeted the book launch. One night, outside our Bilik Gerakan, we had a Ceramah Perdana. As mentioned, the BN Bilik Gerakan, set up a few doors away from ours, also planned to stage a cultural show (by coincidence, of course), full of songs and dances. This needed loud music. And when I say loud, I mean, LOUD. Our sound system was good, a credit to our soundperson. But the BN�s sound system was �..unbelievable. And somehow, their enormous speakers seemed to be pointing in our direction. Our ceramah speakers valiantly tried to address the crowd. It was ridiculous. Suddenly at 9 pm, fireworks were let off! You could not hear yourself think. WHHEEEEE, CRASH, BANG, BOOM! The BN�s contribution to democratic thought. The noise eventually stopped leaving a stunned silence. And quick as a flash, our little PowerPoint production went into action � to the tune of Mission Impossible. Our crowd of over a thousand people broke out into applause and laughter. Yes, it was an impossible situation but PSM had the hearts of the people. The crowd erupted in enormous cheering for our calons. Despite the BN �entertainment�, the crowd swelled at the PSM Bilik Gerakan. Our ceramah continued. And all this while, the police were there at the back of the crowd, in their trucks with their helmets and batons ready to move �if necessary�. Unfortunately they had their backs to the ones who really needed locking up. As the week moved on, balloons appeared. Balloons? Balloons. �Undilah Dr Kumar�; �Undilah Segar�; �Mana Duit Maika?� and �Keadilan Untuk Semua�. Four different messages, tied to stalls, to lamp posts, to cars, to motorcycles,to people �.. Everyone loved them, wanted them, came back for more. One child stood solemnly for a long time behind his mother�s legs waiting for a red balloon. And when he finally got one I asked him what this balloon was for and he very shyly whispered �dok-tor- cha-ya-koo-ma�. Should we lower the voting age? Polling day. Results. Tears. As the results came in, I had a tightness in my throat. Together the youngsters and I recorded the incoming results from the Borang 14 forms collected from the various polling stations. They were silent. Some blinked back tears. But they kept recording. When it got too much, some left the room, others came in. A short while later I felt the calon�s hand on my shoulder. We went through the results briefly. He left the room to talk with the people who had gathered. The mood was sombre. My heart was heavy, not just for the calons, but for all the people who sincerely believed that change was possible, that something different could happen in Sg Siput - for all the people we met on the streets, who came up to the calons and shook their hands; for all those who prayed that decency and honesty was the way forward; for all those who believed that money politics could be fought. But the reality was that the rakyat decided otherwise. The calons bravely addressed the crowd who had gathered. There was not much one could say. They thanked the supporters for their hard work. The elections were over but the service centre would remain open as it has always been for people to come. The calons would continue to serve the people as promised, elected or otherwise. ... but the struggle continues And the next day, when I returned to the Bilik Gerakan to finish off the work, there were the youngsters, removing posters and ready for work. Having confessed that some of them went home and cried the night before, they were back the next day ready to do what was necessary. It was a miracle that the lorry stopped an inch from the drain. The election has left the opposition an inch from the drain. Very, very down, but not out. There are voices that will be heard in Parliament. And there are many, many Malaysians who will continue, every day, to work to right wrongs, to fight for justice, to struggle with those without a voice - including those in Sg Siput who had campaigned so bravely against such odds. We have seen that it is possible to motivate, mobilise and inspire people to work for change. This is a reality no one can take away. The struggle for democracy, justice and human rights carries on. While it is a challenge to us all, we do not have to wait for another five years. We can start right now. Let�s get that lorry moving uphill again�... Now e-mail us and tell us what you think. 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Suddenly at 9 pm, fireworks were let off! You could not hear yourself think. WHHEEEEE, CRASH, BANG, BOOM! The BN�s contribution to democratic thought.
