I’m not afraid for my country; I’m afraid of it

I’m terrified, frankly.

I just read this.

I want so much to believe that my government, corrupt and short-sighted as it is, isn’t behind this.

I want to have that simple faith my father had when my sister told him how afraid she was for the country; of the encroaching religious zealots, of religion being used as justification for violence and cruelty.

My father told her to have faith in her country.

Well, my sister’s safe in the UK and my father has probably changed his stance now. East Malaysia no longer believes the Federal Goverment really gives a damn about it. It never did. So I watch as the people from my State slowly squeeze bribes out of the government with that unspoken message: "We saved you. We could bury you. You owe us."

A farce of a murder trial. A damning statutory declaration. The feeling our ‘melting pot’ that’s been simmering for years is just waiting to boil over.

The funny thing was, I was thinking of an alternate reality script. A treatment for a show.

The premise would be – what if the opposition had won the election?

I predicted chaos. After the triumphant celebration and the opposition leader was to be named Prime Minister, an assassination attempt. Almost successful, putting him in a coma. Before the official handover.

And the government, who was supposed to hand over power, doesn’t. Instead, a declaration of emergency. For the general good. Martial law.

Darkness. Death squads. In the name of ‘preserving the peace’ and ‘removing threats to stability’.

I just hope that’s all just going to stay in my imagination.

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