A call for Malaysians to replace profanity with vegetable names like “kangkung” and “bawang” aims to create a more polite and kinder verbal environment.
RIGHT. Sit down, don’t roll your eyes. And kindly watch your mouth because these days some of you are treating the F-word like it’s “lah”.
Growing up in a Malaysian household, cursing was not merely frowned upon; it was a full-contact sport. If my parents caught me saying even one naughty word, there was not going to be a TED Talk about emotional regulation.
No, no. There would be the legendary cuci-mulut-dengan-cili moment. If the chilli wasn’t within reach, congratulations. My mother would simply upgrade to whatever ammunition happened to be nearby – magazine, TV remote, slipper, wooden spoon or rolled-up newspaper. Honestly, that woman could have represented Malaysia in projectile sports.
And if she shouted my full name? Gone. Finished. Start writing your will.
Back then, even calling someone “babi” could start a family feud lasting three generations. Today? People casually drop the F-word before breakfast. By lunchtime, they have said it another 47 times. By dinner, it has become their personality.
Honestly, some conversations sound less like English and more like a smoke alarm that has learnt one word.
“Oh f.”
“What the f.”
“F lah.”
“F this.”
“F that.”
Aiyoh. Are we communicating or auditioning for a role as an angry kettle?
Vocabulary on clearance sale
Here is what worries Makcik. Swearing used to mean something. You reserved it for moments of genuine pain, anger or frustration.
Now people use it because their Grab rider is two minutes late, the cafe forgot oat milk, the WiFi buffered for four seconds or someone looked at them funny.
Everything has become a national emergency. If every tiny inconvenience deserves nuclear language, what are you going to say when something actually terrible happens?
We have somehow reached the point where people use one swear word to replace 12 perfectly good adjectives. It is like your vocabulary packed its bags, booked an AirAsia flight and never came back.
From babi to bab one (Bab1)
Then comes Malaysia’s greatest linguistic plot twist. Some of us no longer say “babi”. Now it’s… “Bab One”.
Excuse me? It sounds less like an insult and more like Chapter One of a UPSR essay.
“Eh, don’t be such a Bab One.”
I’m sorry, are we scolding someone or starting a bedtime story? We have managed to sanitise an insult without changing the intention. It is like putting lipstick on a durian. Still the same thing, boss. Just smells slightly more polite.
The heroes we didn’t know we needed
Which is why Makcik nearly stood up and clapped after watching those viral videos encouraging Malaysians to replace swear words with (drum roll please), sayur.
Vegetables. I kid you not. Finally. Public service announcements we can all get behind. Instead of screaming obscenities across the road, you shout: “kangkung!”, “bawang!”, “salad!”
Imagine two motorists having road rage.
“Oi, kangkung!”
“You, bawang!”
“Salad betul-lah you!”
Five minutes later, somebody’s auntie appears with sambal because she thought everyone was discussing dinner. Nobody gets punched. Children remain innocent and nutrition awareness accidentally goes up.
Win-win.
The coolest people rarely shout
Can Makcik also say something slightly controversial? Constant swearing does not make you sound cool, fearless or even mature. Most of the time, it just makes you sound like your vocabulary is running on battery-saver mode.
The funniest people don’t need 20 F-bombs. The sharpest people don’t need to lace every sentence with verbal chilli flakes.
One perfectly timed, “Adoi”.
One icy, “Well done-lah”.
One quiet, “Interesting choice”.
That’s it. Game over. Ask any Malaysian. Nothing stings quite like your mother saying: “I’m not angry.” With that face. You immediately start confessing crimes you haven’t even committed.
Bring back a little malu
This is not about becoming saints. Please-lah. Even Makcik mutters under her breath after stepping on Lego. This is about remembering that words shape the atmosphere around us. Children are listening. Teenagers are copying. Adults are normalising.
Before long, a five-year-old is dropping the F-word smoother than they can recite the alphabet and everyone acts shocked.
Shocked? Really?
The child has basically been attending free masterclasses every day. Maybe it is time we brought back a tiny bit of malu. A tiny verbal filter. Not because we are old-fashioned but because not every sentence needs to arrive carrying a flamethrower.
So yes, Makcik proudly supports Team Kangkung.
Call me bawang.
Call me salad.
Call me petai if I’m being a little extra.
At least when Malaysians lose their temper, we’ll sound like we are arguing in the pasar sayur instead of a gangster film.
So next time you are tempted to unleash verbal fireworks… try “kangkung!” instead.
Worst case scenario, people will think you are hungry. Best case, you have just made Malaysia a slightly nicer place to listen to-lah.
Azura Abas is the executive editor of theSun. Comments: [email protected]
