The billions of ringgit spent under the NEP don't seem to be helping the people targeted for affirmative action.
By Mariam Mokhtar
Why would a father bludgeon his own son to death? The father had not caught his son abusing his siblings or having sex with someone. The son was not taking drugs or robbing people.
The details are scanty, but we know that on July 5, 17-year-old Muhamad Hafiz Abdul Ghani, who lived in Kampung Jawa, Alor Gajah, told his father that he wanted to work to help the family. The father’s response was to repeatedly beat him with a piece of wood. When he collapsed, Hafiz was put to bed by his mother so that he could sleep off his “exhaustion”.
Was the father’s ego dented? Did his son make Abdul Ghani feel inadequate and a failure?
Abdul Ghani is a construction worker. His children don’t have birth certificates, which means that they cannot have identity cards and cannot be enrolled in school and don’t qualify for medical assistance. Hafiz is the oldest of the 10 siblings, one of whom is a special needs child.
Why were the births of the siblings not registered? Was it the parents’ laziness or ignorance? Were they illegitimate children? Were the children delivered in the backwoods, where there are no registration facilities?
We know that the family is very poor. Hafiz’s mother, 38-year-old Siti Habibah Ismail, said: “Our family can only afford porridge, banana fritters and plain water for breaking of fast.”
We are told that Abdul Ghani has a violent streak. Siti described her 52-year-old husband’s reaction when Hafiz told him he wanted to get a job so that he could buy better food for the family. “Hafiz’s father lost his temper and hit Hafiz repeatedly until he collapsed in the living room,” she said.
We have a glimpse into the character of the father, his control over the family and their fear of him. The mother was unable to prevent the beating of her son, but did Hafiz’s sense of filial piety prevent him from avoiding the blows? He could have run away and sought refuge with a neighbour or family friend.
Why did the neighbours not react? They must have heard the shouts and screams. Is our society the kind where people cannot be bothered to intervene or call the police? Perhaps people have been made to believe that the police will not interfere in “domestic cases”.
We know that Abdul Ghani is a heartless man. Siti said she was the one who took Hafiz to his room after the thrashing. Did her husband feel it beneath him to help his own son and wife?
We realise that Hafiz’s father lacks compassion and a conscience. Siti was stopped by her husband from seeking a neighbour’s help when she saw that there was something wrong with her son. He said Hafiz was merely exhausted.
We learn that Siti’s husband had a strong hold over her. She believed what he told her about Hafiz’s condition. Some women don’t have the moral or physical courage to confront their husbands or defy them even when they know they have to.
Important lessons
We also wonder about Siti’s mental state or level of wisdom. She said, “I woke him up for sahur at 4am, but he gave no response. I thought he was sleeping and I did not suspect anything.”
We suspect Abdul Ghani is a coward from Siti’s description of how he slunked out of the house on the morning after the beating.
After he had left, Siti checked on Hafiz. Failing to elicit any response from him, she called an ambulance.
Police are investigating the case as murder.
So, could this tragedy have been prevented? Yes. There are—or should be—several forms of government assistance for the poor and marginalised. Why have they not reached families like Hafiz’s?
Perhaps the most important lesson here, at least for the Malays, is that large families are not sustainable. A breadwinner can provide only so many children with good education, good nutrition, stability and love. Malays need to understand that quality is preferable to quantity. What has happened to family planning?
As expected, in this and in other tragedies, politicians and political parties have scampered to gain brownie points for appearing to do something. A new house, the promise of a job for the mother, help to register the children with the National Registration Department, schooling and counselling for the family have all been offered.
The fact of the matter is that our politicians and the civil service have failed our poor.
We do not pay our politicians and civil servants to clean up the mess. We pay them to prevent the mess, to help the poor people in our society all the time, not after a tragedy and certainly not to make promises or visits once every five years.
Despite the hundreds of billions of ringgit spent on affirmative action in the last four decades, many Malays have not benefited from the New Economic Policy. And many don’t even know of its existence and the assistance available through it.
So, how many other families like Hafiz’s are out there?
Why would a father bludgeon his own son to death? The father had not caught his son abusing his siblings or having sex with someone. The son was not taking drugs or robbing people.
The details are scanty, but we know that on July 5, 17-year-old Muhamad Hafiz Abdul Ghani, who lived in Kampung Jawa, Alor Gajah, told his father that he wanted to work to help the family. The father’s response was to repeatedly beat him with a piece of wood. When he collapsed, Hafiz was put to bed by his mother so that he could sleep off his “exhaustion”.
Was the father’s ego dented? Did his son make Abdul Ghani feel inadequate and a failure?
Abdul Ghani is a construction worker. His children don’t have birth certificates, which means that they cannot have identity cards and cannot be enrolled in school and don’t qualify for medical assistance. Hafiz is the oldest of the 10 siblings, one of whom is a special needs child.
Why were the births of the siblings not registered? Was it the parents’ laziness or ignorance? Were they illegitimate children? Were the children delivered in the backwoods, where there are no registration facilities?
We know that the family is very poor. Hafiz’s mother, 38-year-old Siti Habibah Ismail, said: “Our family can only afford porridge, banana fritters and plain water for breaking of fast.”
We are told that Abdul Ghani has a violent streak. Siti described her 52-year-old husband’s reaction when Hafiz told him he wanted to get a job so that he could buy better food for the family. “Hafiz’s father lost his temper and hit Hafiz repeatedly until he collapsed in the living room,” she said.
We have a glimpse into the character of the father, his control over the family and their fear of him. The mother was unable to prevent the beating of her son, but did Hafiz’s sense of filial piety prevent him from avoiding the blows? He could have run away and sought refuge with a neighbour or family friend.
Why did the neighbours not react? They must have heard the shouts and screams. Is our society the kind where people cannot be bothered to intervene or call the police? Perhaps people have been made to believe that the police will not interfere in “domestic cases”.
We know that Abdul Ghani is a heartless man. Siti said she was the one who took Hafiz to his room after the thrashing. Did her husband feel it beneath him to help his own son and wife?
We realise that Hafiz’s father lacks compassion and a conscience. Siti was stopped by her husband from seeking a neighbour’s help when she saw that there was something wrong with her son. He said Hafiz was merely exhausted.
We learn that Siti’s husband had a strong hold over her. She believed what he told her about Hafiz’s condition. Some women don’t have the moral or physical courage to confront their husbands or defy them even when they know they have to.
Important lessons
We also wonder about Siti’s mental state or level of wisdom. She said, “I woke him up for sahur at 4am, but he gave no response. I thought he was sleeping and I did not suspect anything.”
We suspect Abdul Ghani is a coward from Siti’s description of how he slunked out of the house on the morning after the beating.
After he had left, Siti checked on Hafiz. Failing to elicit any response from him, she called an ambulance.
Police are investigating the case as murder.
So, could this tragedy have been prevented? Yes. There are—or should be—several forms of government assistance for the poor and marginalised. Why have they not reached families like Hafiz’s?
Perhaps the most important lesson here, at least for the Malays, is that large families are not sustainable. A breadwinner can provide only so many children with good education, good nutrition, stability and love. Malays need to understand that quality is preferable to quantity. What has happened to family planning?
As expected, in this and in other tragedies, politicians and political parties have scampered to gain brownie points for appearing to do something. A new house, the promise of a job for the mother, help to register the children with the National Registration Department, schooling and counselling for the family have all been offered.
The fact of the matter is that our politicians and the civil service have failed our poor.
We do not pay our politicians and civil servants to clean up the mess. We pay them to prevent the mess, to help the poor people in our society all the time, not after a tragedy and certainly not to make promises or visits once every five years.
Despite the hundreds of billions of ringgit spent on affirmative action in the last four decades, many Malays have not benefited from the New Economic Policy. And many don’t even know of its existence and the assistance available through it.
So, how many other families like Hafiz’s are out there?
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