Op-ed on Malaysia’s warm messy unity, disaster spirit, racial labels, and a call to clean up, mind words and keep the rojak spirit alive.
AH, Malaysia. My beloved tanah air, the only place on Earth where strangers will fight over car park spaces at 10am and then unite like Avengers during flood season at 4pm. The land of “I don’t know you but here – eat something”, and simultaneously the land of “Why is that fella like that? Must be Type M, Type C, Type what-what-lah”.
As a Malaysian who married a Chinese man (yes, yes, insert your predictable auntie gasp here), I can safely say our national personality is warm, wacky and eyebrow-raising, enough to catch the Sultan of Selangor’s attention.
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Say what you want about us but when disaster hits, Malaysians activate faster than Marvel superheroes with no licensing budget.
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Flood? Instant flotilla of abang-abang with sampan, makciks with Tupperware and teenagers who suddenly transform into logistics managers.
Lost child? Within eight minutes the entire nation – from Penang aunties to Sabahan fishermen – knows, shares, spreads, prays and coordinates like a tactical unit.
Someone’s house burns down? The next morning, the family has 42 rice cookers, 18 blenders and nearly enough Milo to open a canteen.
Our rakyat spirit is real, tangible and beautifully chaotic. We may complain non-stop – “Aiyoh, why so jam? Why so hot? Why the chicken price macam gold bar?”– but when push comes to shove, we move as one. The secret? We genuinely care. Beneath the sarcasm, roti canai crumbs and political fatigue, we are still soft and gooey like kuih talam – sweet, sticky and impossible to resist.
But after that, our inner darkness seeps out, like belacan left in a swanky office fridge. Let’s be honest: We have moments when we behave like the comments section of a local news page – feral, unfiltered and powered by kopi O with too little milk and too much emotion.
This newspaper, theSun, has highlighted how some nakal individuals have turned this into a game: instead of saying “some people”, they start slapping labels on each other – Type “M”, Type “C”, Type “B” or whatever type takes their fancy.
My dear, are we nationalities or Pokémon cards? These labels are supposedly clever little codes but please-lah, the whole country knows exactly who you are hinting at. It’s like saying “I’m not naming names but the person whose name rhymes with Chan”.
We are Malaysians – we can decode hints faster than we can finish a plate of char kuey teow.
This habit doesn’t unite us; it pokes the bear. It rocks the kapal and turns our multicultural, multiflavour rojak into rojak that someone left out in the sun until it ferments.
I say this with love and a sprinkle of chili padi flakes: If you must label people by letters, at least give them fun ones.
Type A: Always hungry.
Type B: Born to complain.
Type K: Kiasu but only during sale season.
See? Everyone is happy.
Even the Palace cannot tahan sometimes when you have annoyed Malaysians so much even the Sultan makes a statement you know we’ve crossed into “behave yourselves, children” territory.
Recently, the Sultan of Selangor expressed concerns – things like racial uneasiness being stirred unnecessarily, plus unhappiness about local councils acting like cleanliness is optional, not mandatory.
Let’s unpack this with a Makcik’s lens:
On cleanliness: Truly, some councils behave like cleanliness is a personality trait you pick up only if you are bored. Rubbish mountains, clogged drains, pavements with more holes than a B40 budget. His Royal Highness looked at this and said, “Enough please”. When the Sultan starts sounding like a chiding parent during spring cleaning, you know the situation is dire.
On racial poking: When royalty has to remind us to stop acting like tribal villagers from a bad soap opera, maybe we should, you know, listen.
Malaysia is a country where we share food, culture, jokes and in-laws. If we can survive a traffic jam on the North–South Expressway without turning on each other, surely we can manage a bit of basic harmony.
Why we do this to ourselves?
Malaysia is a huge extended family. The moment someone says something stupid, we don’t hush them; we crown them the main act, throw them under a spotlight and play their personal soap-opera soundtrack. Then we forward the chaos, screenshot the drama and drizzle our own sambal belacan commentary all over it.
But just like family:
We argue and reconcile faster than 24-hour mamak waiters.
We gossip but also defend each other against outsiders.
We love loudly, fight loudly and eat loudly.
Our problem isn’t hatred; it’s boredom mixed with emotional inflation. Some people cannot resist drama. If Malaysia had a national zodiac sign, it would be “Chaotic Caring”.
Makcik’s solution:
Clean your mess, mind your mouth and love your neighbour.
Let me speak as your honorary, over-caffeinated Makcik married to her Chinese abang:
- Stop with the coded racial nonsense. If you want to talk about attitude, behaviour or bad manners, just say so. No need to turn Malaysia into a letter-based Hunger Games.
- Local councils, step up. When the Sultan complains, that is like your mother-in-law saying the curry is bland. Fix it now, not next month.
- Lead with generosity, not suspicion. We are at our best when we show up for each other – floods, funerals, food drives, missing pets, gotong-royong or just passing someone a tissue in the LRT.
- Remember what makes us Malaysian – the food, the chaos, the kindness and the jokes that sometimes go too far but still end with, “Aiyah, jangan marah-lah.”
In the end, we are a messy, beautiful rojak. Malaysia will never be neat, calm or predictable – that is why we love her.
We are loud, we are loving and we are occasionally unhinged but most importantly, we are us – a nation held together by sambal, sarcasm and sheer stubborn affection.
And if we can just clean up the drains, stop calling each other using secret code words from a spy movie and remember that unity is not a slogan but a daily practice – my goodness, sayang, we’d be unstoppable.
Azura Abas is the associate editor of theSun.
Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
