My first Malay girlfriend


Being a Chinese is not easy, especially when you have infatuation for the fairer sex; Malay girls in specific. When you’re from a boys school and entering Form Six gives a whole different feeling as to what was experienced during the past five years of secondary school. The need to call someone “Dear, Darling, Sweetheart or Sayang” grew with every passing minute, so strong that my studies were affected. I never expected the unexpected to happen.

There wasn’t much of activity during Lower Six because most of us weren’t really bonding with everyone. I was garnering contacts but finally figured out that the girls come to me, not vice versa. In Upper Six, I managed to set my eyes on this particular Malay girl that was shy, demure and quiet. It came accidentally; we met when I was en route to her class on the occasion of handing in my assignment. I was asked to do a post-mortem with a group there because we did the same assignment topic. She was quiet but I have always the skill of admiring the eccentric and hidden. I tried to keep looking away but somehow those innocent eyes managed to reign in my wandering eyes. When she smiled at me, my heart thumped with anxiety but managed to gather enough courage to ask for her number. I was so nervous that I fumbled like never when our hands met accidentally.

We contacted each other on a constant basis and after all this, I told my church pals. They were impressed nonetheless but there was still a disturbing fact because of widely known contradiction. Mom was a staunch Catholic and here I was chasing after Malay girls which will definitely boil her anger because she has warned me of the severe repercussions that will ensue if this should ever happen. Disappointment followed because of the stupid, illogical, dumb ruling that the government implemented. Why proclaim freedom of religion when it’s not even half true? I couldn’t be bothered but above all, I couldn’t understand why religion became a barrier. They warned me but it all fell on deaf ears.

Two weeks before the annual Prom Night, I asked her what was she going to wear but it came to a very heart-wrenching end. She didn’t want to continue anymore because of the crisis this relationship was harboring. She didn’t want my mom to get all fueled up over this and she also wanted me to have a healthy mother-son relationship. We talked and came to a conclusion that we should separate for the better of two very different worlds.

“I tak nak mak you marah, it’s better for the both of us.” Those words really took it all but it needed to be done. Time was the concoction that was desperately needed to heal invisible wounds. When everything fell into place, I was flabbergasted at my own stupidity. How dumb can I get? We’re living in Malaysia, that’s where some “issues” are being coerced, contradicting the basic human rights of freedom of religion. Somehow, being egoistic, selfish and stupid cannot really guarantee a winner but there is a probability. Depending on the context, the way we play the game is vital in order to survive in this cold world. Playing it right and within limits always brings the winner home.