Photo by Wuan.

While we were chatting in ICQ last night, Mack remarked, “Imagine that a PFS boy and a SXI boy working together.”

Mack is an old boy of the Penang Free School. I am a La Sallian, studied nine years at the now defunct Penang La Salle School and two more years at the St. Xavier’s Institution, another Christian Brothers School. The rivalry of our alma maters go back a long way. I have participated in several such “skirmishes” during Scouts’ campfires and gatherings where we try to out-drown the singing of the Frees. It is all friendly and in good fun though. These encounters are what made the events more exciting. I do have many good friends who have studied at the PFS. Mack has just become another.

What Mack and I are doing is not about old boys of rival schools coming together and cooperating on a common issue. It is more than that. It is about a Malay and a Chinese working together. It is about a Muslim and a Christian working together. It is about the abled looking after the welfare of the disabled. But that is where our differences end. We are similar in many more ways than we ever realised.

This truly is a story about one human who saw the need of another human and decided something must be done before it is too late. It is all about one Malaysian coming to the aid of another Malaysian. This is what Malaysia is all about. This is what Malaysians should be doing, disregarding colour and creed and coming together to lend a helping hand in the spirit of muhibbah. This is what makes me proud to be a Malaysian.

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Life, or something like that ~ Brand New Malaysian

Some have the misconception that Mack Zulkifli’s banner campaign urging the building manager of the apartment where I am staying and the relevant authorities to draw up an evacuation plan is for me. No, it is not. This issue is not about Peter Tan solely. Take me out of the equation and there are still hundreds, if not thousands, of mobility-challenged people who are staying in high-rise dwellings in Penang and all over Malaysia.

My predicament is known because I have a blog. Think about those silent voices that need assisted-evacuation too. Their voices are not heard because they have no avenue to express their fears. Their lives are equally at risk as mine. They need a systematic evacuation plan as much as I do. Their lives are just as valuable as anybody else’s who is able and healthy. What if these are people you love and care about?

People who require assisted-evacuation are not only the physically disabled like me. The elderly and those whose pregnancy are in the advanced stages will need some form of assistance as well. Their predicament must not be overlooked. As I have mentioned in The Fiefdom of Taman Pekaka, people who live in high-rise dwellings will grow old. People who live in high-rise dwellings do become disabled. We continue staying here despite the circumstances simply because that is the only abode we can afford.

In our quest to become a developed nation by 2020, let us not forget to develop our compassion as well. It is people that make a nation. To be a nation that can truly stand proud and tall, we must be a nation that looks after the needs of our citizens, whether less privileged or not, without prejudice.

A nation that marches relentlessly on in the pursuit of development but ignore the intrinsic value of her most valuable asset, her citizens, is a nation that is devoid of a soul. Do we want to be that? No? We certainly are marching in that direction when the cries of the under-privileged are largely ignored.

Speak up for the silent voices. Make their plight heard through your blogs. They deserve as much help as the heartwarming concern some of you bloggers have showered me with. Every life is worth saving. I humbly ask you to help me here, not for me exclusively but for all those who need assisted-evacuation during disasters. Write about this. Add the banner to your blog. Every voice counts. Giving the less privileged hope and a chance to live is one of the noblest things you can do. Thank you.

Related category:
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Too late is not early enough
Proposed Act for the enhancement of facilities to the disabled
Taking small steps forward

Kim Laksa, Balik Pulau.
Photo by Wuan.

Peter took Wuan and me on a quick trip to Balik Pulau. Wuan is partial to the Siamese laksa there sold by the stall known as Kim Laksa. She had missed it on her past few trips here. Her trips to Penang will not be complete without a bowl or two of that. The stall is located in a kopitiam just beside the Balik Pulau market.

Kim Laksa, Balik Pulau.
Photo by Wuan.

On the other hand, I am not fond of the coconut based gravy. The asam laksa is still one of my favourites although I have stopped taking it. The gravy of the asam laksa consists of tamarind, sardine or mackerel flakes, belacan (shrimp cake), among others, and topped with shrimp paste (heh ko). Mackerel, sardines, belacan and shrimp paste are food I should avoid to reduce the amount of uric acid in my blood.

Balik Pulau native product - preserved fruits.
Photo by Wuan.

We did not stop to eat-in because the sky looked like it would rain again any minute. After she had bought enough laksa to feed a small family, she went into the market to buy some of Balik Pulau’s famous native product to take back to Kuala Lumpur. Nutmegs and mangoes from the nearby hills are preserved in syrup and make nice titbits to nibble on.

Stall selling cheh hoo, Balik Pulau.
Photo by Wuan.

When she came out from the market, Peter and I pointed to the cheh hoo stall and indicated we wanted one packet. Cheh hoo is a platter of shredded cucumber, yam bean (sengkuang), crispy prawn fritters, tau kua (hard bean curd), potatoes, eggs, prawn cake and topped with a gravy made from sweet potato, chilli sauce and crushed peanuts.

Balik Pulau durians.
Photo by Wuan.

Since we were at Balik Pulau and Wuan absolutely loves durians from there too, we got three durians from Peter’s cousin for RM30. One of them is the famed hor lor (gourd), an award winning fruit that is quite popular among durian aficionados. The King of Fruits is rather expensive now as it is just the beginning of the durian season and fruits are rather limited at the moment.

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Photo by Wuan.

When my second maternal aunt heard that I am having problems with my kidneys, she called me up. “Try the small petai,” she said. “My neighbour here, dried the pods, steeped it in hot water and drank it. When she went back to see the doctor, her condition improved tremendously.”

There used to be a plot of vacant land beside my house. The neighbourhood kids and I would play there and occasionally pluck the petai belalang, peeled open the pods and ate the seeds inside. It tasted slightly sweet with a pungent smell, not unlike that of petai. It proliferates well in secondary forests and cleared lands. In Penang, several plots of vacant lands around Jalan Mahsuri are overgrown with the petai belalang trees.

Petai belalang (Leucaena leucocephala) is known among diabetics here for its blood glucose lowering properties. I have also heard of someone who was diagnosed with kidney cancer looking for petai belalang because it supposedly helps too. It is used most extensively as cattlefeed. It is more commonly known as cowbush because of that.

As for me, I will stick to my current regiment. Many who are concerned with my well-being have suggested alternative remedies. I know they meant well but I trust Dr. Liong best with the care of my kidneys. Moreover, there is no point in risking further damage to my kidneys by using folk remedies that have not been scientifically tested for efficacy and toxicity.

Photo by Wuan.

My mind has been muddled of late. Too many things have been happening at the same time. All needed immediate attention. Solving each needed more than all the effort I could muster. It is good that Wuan is here. Although there was little she could do to help me disentangle those issues, her presence is comforting. She had specifically scheduled her leave, travelled all the way from Kuala Lumpur, to accompany me to the hospital.

I have more or less adhered to the prescribed diet. Meat has become a luxury. I have never eaten as much vegetables and fruits and tasteless food in my life. Still, there was an unshakeable anxiety. Figures - it was all about figures. The three specific digits contained within my blood that would reveal if the effort of the past three months was successful. I have been waiting for this day. It has been the longest ninety days of my life.

249 were not exactly the numbers I had expected. All the same, that was less than the previous creatinine level of 262 umol/l. The past three months were not in vain. The uric acid had gone down to 393 umol/l from 433 umol/l which is below the reference range of 420 umol/l. It was a small victory no doubt. My diet is working. Dr. Liong was still not happy with that. He warned me about the problems I will be facing if I do not look after my kidneys. He painted such a grim picture of renal dialysis that he did not need to do much more to convince me to stick to my current medication, diet and intermittent catheterisation routine religiously.

That is one hitch straightened out for the moment. The rest I am leaving for another day. I am certain that in time, I will be able to find a way out for each of them. If I cannot, God will no doubt make sure that I do. For now, I am going to sit back and reflect on the goodness that I have been blessed with. I am still alive. That is what matters most. At the same time, I am going to enjoy Wuan’s company. Thank God for the little mercies that has made life beautiful despite the circumstances.