I died at 15

Yes, I could have been dead by the age of 15. Not once but countless times. That’s the reality of living in Malaysia these days. Here’s a story most if not all Malaysians normal human beings can relate to...

It’s just past midnight on Friday night. My tummy’s grumbling. My own fault really. Being the rebellious teenager, a hunger strike was in order. Needed to stamp that authority with the parents, you know. Show them who’s boss and all that.

Bad idea.

Tummy’s grumbling even louder. Can’t sleep. Bored. HUNGRY. How I’d kill to get some roti canai or a nice hot plate of Maggi goreng. Dammit. Need to get out. I peered out of the room, headed downstairs and picked up the phone...

Bosanlah. Jom keluar. Your car lah. Aku mana reti nak bawak keta bapak aku...

OK. Setengah jam. See you then.

My phone-a-friend was my only escape route. In fact, it was my ONLY escape route until I was 20, I think. My Dad’s car was an old Peugeot 504. A great rallying car in its day but all it did for us was overheat and breakdown in the middle of monsoon rain ever so often. Nope, not an option.

What about walking you fat git? No chance. The house was surrounded by neighbours that must’ve had millions tucked away in the corner of their houses. They had guard dogs that looked like that could’ve eaten a full-grown adult easily enough. Too much of a risk. I was afraid of dogs anyway. Still am.

Half an hour passed by. I slowly made my way out of the house and right to the front gates, up a stone wall where I sat on the look-out, like an overwight Batman. The timing was perfect. About 200-300 metres away, I could see a car at the top of the street turn off its lights quickly followed by its engine. Gravity did the rest as the car rolled downhill towards me.

I jumped off the wall and ran towards the moving car and then jumped into the front passenger seat. A few more metres of rolling in the dark and we were off to the nearest mapler for a much needed evening feed. Happy days!

That was way back in the 90’s where after a few hours out, I'd be back home safely right before dawn. Most of the time, I'd be caught by my light-sleeping mother but that's as much trouble that I'd get.

These days, having no driving licence and being out in the small hours of the morning would be enough for a teenager to be liable to the death sentence – gangsta style. Although in Malaysia, it’s not actually gangsters that spray your car with bullets from automatic weapons and leave you for dead, it’s the police.

Yes, I could’ve been dead by the age of 15.

If the teenager’s shooting wasn’t bad enough, what’s even more disgusting was the ridiculous attempt by the police to paint a picture of Aminulrasyid Amzah as a hardened criminal who was involved in a whole rake of recent armed robberies. Yes, this was seemingly enough to turn public opinion and justification enough to shoot a person in the back of the head.

The sickening actions don’t actually end there. When the truth slowly crept out and the police’s initial story was revealed to be as true as Santa Claus, the Police Chief, who was now in a tight corner came out fighting and threatened the public. Either the public support the police or the police would stay in their barracks.

Seriously? WTF Musa?

Of course, like any half-decent cover-up there’s always a need for some “expert” opinion on the matter. Cue some associate professor in some private college who backs-up the Police Chief (probably an attempt to clear-off those few speeding fines to his name).

So, being overworked and underpaid is a good enough excuse to kill teenagers, eh?

I’m underpaid and sometimes overworked. Can I go shoot that annoying teenager, Dr. Teoh? Can I? I’ll just say I was aiming for the tyres and then shoot the sorry fella at the back of the head. OK? Can ah?

Oh, and that’s not even going into the idiotic and condescending statements made by government politicians. That’s just another whole stinking can of worms. But wait. That's an insult. To the worms.


Malaysian police image by Deucrox99