A witty take on Christmas, kindness and Malaysian unity — less suspicion, more giving, and fewer December dramas.
EVERY December, something magical happens. No, not the fake snow in tropical malls or the Mariah Carey resurrection from retail hibernation.
It’s this: people become softer, wallets open more easily and smiles come quicker. Even that one uncle who never lets anyone merge in traffic suddenly waves you in like a benevolent kampung headman.
Christmas, stripped of its decorations and marketing jingles, is really about giving without a ledger. Not giving to show, not giving to post – just giving because, for once, we remember we are sharing this tiny, chaotic country. The auntie buying extra food for the neighbour, the colleague covering a shift so someone else can go home or the boss, who – miracle of miracles – lets everyone off early.
And here’s the thing: you don’t need to celebrate Christmas to understand this spirit; you just need to be human.
Malaysians, on our best days, are very good at this – we queue badly but we care deeply, we grumble but we’ll still help you jump-start your car while complaining about the weather, the government and your parking skills – all at once.
Unity, Malaysian-style
Unity in Malaysia has never been quiet or neat; it’s loud, potluck-style. It’s open houses where shoes pile up like a modern art installation, it’s arguing about food while shovelling more into your mouth, it’s knowing exactly which topics to avoid at the table and which ones to laugh through.
Christmas amplifies this. Suddenly, everyone is invited – you don’t ask what someone believes before offering kuih or cookies; you just pass the plate. That’s the unspoken social contract: makan first, argue later – maybe never.
This is why attempts to make December tense always feel forced – like someone turning down the lights at a kenduri and insisting everyone whisper. Not how we roll-lah.
Malaysians have been mastering coexistence since before hashtags, blogs or before people discovered outrage could be monetised.
A gentle reminder from history (yes, that one). Let Makcik take you briefly into history – calmly, respectfully and without turning this into a sermon. The Prophet Muhammad was known for his conduct towards non-Muslims that was rooted in dignity, fairness and protection.
He stood when a non-Muslim funeral passed – out of respect for human life. When questioned, he responded simply that it was a soul, not a label, not a category.
He entered agreements with non-Muslim communities ensuring their safety, property and freedom, and held Muslims accountable for any injustice against them. He accepted invitations, exchanged gifts and dealt with people of other faiths as neighbours; not threats.
His example was not built on suspicion but on confidence: that justice and kindness do not weaken faith; they strengthen society.
Another moment often overlooked is how he responded to harm. Even when mistreated by non-Muslims, he chose restraint over retaliation, reconciliation over revenge. His conduct set a clear standard: stirring fear, hostility or humiliation in the name of “defence” is not strength; it’s a failure of character.
The naughty list: Makcik has notes
Now, to those who insist on stirring uneasiness every December – come here, don’t run. You know who you are – the ones who suddenly discover “concern” seasonally; the professional alarmists who treat harmony like it’s fragile glass instead of reinforced concrete; and the ones who whisper, provoke, screenshot, forward and then act shocked when people feel uncomfortable.
Light lempang only, okay? Not on the face, on the conscience. Because if your version of protecting society involves making neighbours anxious, colleagues wary and friends defensive, then maybe the problem is not the celebration but your insecurity.
Unity does not collapse because someone puts up lights; it collapses when trust is chipped away, one insinuation at a time.
Giving is not a competition
The most beautiful thing about Christmas giving is that it doesn’t ask for credentials. You don’t need to sign up, subscribe or agree on everything. You just need to show up with decency. And Malaysians, despite everything, still do. We give rides, we give food, we give time and we give patience, sometimes through clenched teeth, but still we give.
In a world obsessed with drawing lines, this season gently erases them – not permanently but maybe long enough to remind us that coexistence is not a threat; it is our default setting. End of the day, it’s the same sky, same teh tarik and Christmas will come and go. The decorations will come down, the malls will quietly replace reindeer with school supplies but the moment – the giving, the tolerance and the choice to be less suspicious of one another – is worth keeping.
So, let people celebrate, let people give and let people breathe. Still jittery? Makcik’s ancient wisdom: less noise, more kindness and maybe one less WhatsApp forward. Go on, be nice. Even the snowmen are watching.
Azura Abas is the associate editor of theSun. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
