“Foot In Mouth” Disease

I have responded to the news of the Federal Minister’s plan to ban soup kitchen within the 2km radius of city centre in my Tweets, FB as well as my LinkedIn. Haven’t found the time to actually sit down and pen down my thoughts on this until today.

The main thought that came to my mind each time I hear something as ridiculous as this is – are these the real words that came out from someone’s mouth, or has it been a result of manipulation by the newspapers? Being a person who is sometimes interviewed by the press, I am very aware of the latter whereby words and interpretations of a certain story can be totally off-tangent.

Reading from then salvaging mode press releases by him and a few other supportive parties…well, looks like that was what he said.


Next thought is – I wonder whether all of our Yang Berhormats have been given sessions or trainings on media handling and media crisis management? Perhaps, these two program would be a fantastic part of their leadership development program?

I have never volunteered to cook for the homeless at soup kitchens before, apart from playing a tiny role of sourcing for the rice from Bernas. This came about when the team wanted to do something charitable one December a few years ago.

However, coming from the HR fraternity, I did plenty of recruitment programs for clients back then. Some clients have special requirements that in my mind, not so many conventional recruitment companies want to do due to the low GP and the condition that you need to operate in. No air cond, no flashy office, no formal attire whatsoever, just a pair of keen eye for details and observation skills.

And, a very willing client.

We will sit in these soup kitchens during their meal time, with client sitting behind observing everyone who might have the potential to be recruited. I can tell you one thing – I broke down in each of the session.

You will get one candidate asking for a pair of slippers, or asking whether will there be enough pillows for him to sleep with. Someone else will come along and asked how many meals in a day can he get if he starts working this client? There was one candidate who came all the way from Sabah through a work agency, supposedly to be placed with a client only to be cheated out of his money, Mykad taken away and abandoned in the city.

Not all homeless are uneducated. Some whom we met were just down on their luck. Old men who could not find a job anymore, single mothers who keep two (sometimes three) jobs, taxi drivers, or those who actually work but earn so little that they could not find a decent place to live are mostly whom we met.

Being down in luck for the whole entire year last year gave me a different kind of perspective about what life is. Being homeless is not a choice that everyone wants. I do not believe that when a person wakes in the morning, the first thing that came to his mind is, “Ok, let’s see how I can be a homeless today.”

I wish that some people who sits on their high horses realize that if you strip away most of the things that you have right now , never mind the house and the car – how do you feel? Simple things such as your cable channels, the air conditioner, smart phones – it will be painful indeed.

Now imagine that you do not have a job to sustain life’s needs. Take away the house, let alone owning a car. It gives a domino effect. One of the noblest things to do is to feed hungry people, and I think giving people jobs when they need one also means giving them back self worthiness and dignity. A lot of the Government’s efforts have been concentrated to provide jobs to people. But jobs without the 360 degrees of support is not going to be helpful. Where would the single mothers/fathers leave their children when they go out for work? With an average of RM600/child/month for a day care centre, this is not possible at all when all you earn is a measly between RM20/day to RM40/day.

Poverty in Malaysia is measured by the Poverty Line Index (PLI). A household is considered poor if its income falls below that line. The Poverty Line Index (PLI) for Malaysia was introduced in June 1977 using the 1973 Household Expenditure Survey (HES). It was based on the minimum requirements of a household for food, clothing and footwear, and other non-food items such as rent, fuel and power. For the food component, the minimum expenditure was based on a daily requirement of 9,910 calories for a family of five comprising an adult male, an adult female and three children of either sex within 1-3, 4-6, 7-9 years of age. The minimum requirements for clothing and footwear were based on standards set by the Department of Social Welfare for the requirements of inmates in welfare homes. The other non-food items were based on the level of expenditure of the lower income households as reported in the HES. (cited here)

The urban poor is a reality. Malaysia’s urban poverty line is now RM3,000 compared to RM700 several years ago. In 2012, the Mean Monthly Gross Household Income was RM5,742, an increase of 190%. This may sound fantastic when you look at the numbers. However, again reality strikes. Cost of living rise by the year and even for George and I who had a comfortable combined income found it difficult to make ends meet.

So, coming back to my rant on this topic, think before you speak otherwise you might end up with Foot In Mouth disease.






The Man Who Shall Remain Nameless

Dear Mr The Man Who Shall Remain Nameless

I read your blog and FB every day. I hate reading them actually but I have to because, you see, I am a troll. A troll because I wanted to make sure that whatever you write about me will be captured in my print screen.

So that my lawyers will see it and add them up to the file which is already sky high thick.

I also hate the ten gadzillion typo errors you made. I wonder whether the keyboard is faulty or your fingers are? Your language structure sucks. SUCKS BAD TIME. Each time I read your postings I almost cry. THEY SUCK!

No wait. I did cry. I cried reading all the stupidities that you wrote. The obscene words, the whore  and bastard name-calling. I cried because I was amazed that there is such person as you living on this earth.

Each time you call someone a whore or stupid, I count them in my book. I would love to call you names too but there are no dictionaries in the world that can describe the words that I really want to call you.

In fact, not only that I want to call you names, but I would love to meet you face to face and show you how I really feel. If there are no laws in Malaysia, I would have been the most creative person to show you how I really feel.

Dear Mr The Man Who Shall Remain Nameless,

For the moment, I just wanted to tell you that I hate you. Very much. Truly much. I hate the way you write, the way you write your ideas and thoughts in your brain (is there brain up there? Hello…? I can almost hear echos…..), the smug look on your face, the pictures of your dirty home, the righteous words that sprouted from your mouth.


Just wait and see when justice prevails when you will run out of hair to sell to pay for my lawyers’ fees and my lawsuit.

Oh. By the way? You just love posting in every chat room and forums about how you hate the life in Malaysia. You said that the Government sucks because they don’t want to help you. You said that life in other countries are better. That their policies are better.

Hello? Not happy? Please make your way to the National Registration Department of Malaysia, renounce your citizenship and ship yourself out to elsewhere.

See where else in the world where you are not dragged into jail for calling the Prime Minister’s wife a whore. Thank the lucky stars too that the ISA act has been abolished. This is the same guy whose wife you had called a whore.


Oppression Of Women

Definition 1: Oppression – is the negative outcome experienced by people targeted by the biased exercise of power in a society or social group. It is particularly closely associated with nationalism and derived social systems, wherein identity is built by antagonism to the other. The term itself derives from the idea of being “weighted down.”

Definition 2: Oppression – 1 a: unjust or cruel exercise of authority or power b: something that oppresses especially in being an unjust or excessive exercise of power2: a sense of being weighed down in body or mind : depression

I have been closely following articles on the case of the 19 year old girl who was kidnapped and raped in Saudi. She was subsequently found guilty of being in the presence of non-muhrim and was sentenced to 200 lashes. The sentence was increased after the victim spoke out to the press.

Kidnapped, gang-raped then sentenced to 200 lashes?

They might have just hanged her to death and it will still be a parody of justice. And maybe a better place for her to be in her death than being subjected to such humiliation and degradation of the viliest nature while she is still alive.

 While some may (and had been a heated debate subject among my friends recently) argued that the religion has made the women more liberated than before, but I find this titilliting towards the need for these people to justify their actions to control their women. Simply because they need to stroke their super-ego, their need to show macho-ism and all of these are done in the disguise of their own intepretation of the holy religion. 

Now, I have been brought up in a conservative Malay environment where the majority of people who lived in the village worked the paddy fields, tap rubbers or toiled the farm. We were miles away from the nearest town and the nearest non Malays lived in Sg Ruan which was about 10 miles away. Malays in Malaysia are Muslims by default. I have studied the holy Quran, which was a norm in almost every household in the village.

I am no artsy modern girl and I have always kept that certain conservative-ism so as for me not to forget my roots.  From my observations in my own environment, I tend to believe that certain interpretations of the religion were also based on the intepreters’ own cultural background.

Feeling very lucky that I am nowhere living in a place that practices such oppressive ways towards its women, I can never rest on my laurel as I see some small sentiments are just creeping in for the past few years, no thanks to certain segment of the religious fanaticals who hails from the East Coast, but who have no qualms about crossing the border to enjoy some gratification of a definitely un-Islamic nature.

Go figure.

What Is The Breaking Point Of A Human Emotion?

The answer is:

I have no freakin’ clue.

I met an old friend, lets say her name is Mrs A (fill in here with the filthiest word you could think that starts with the alphabet A).

Three kids, 38 years old, and a husband that has a penis that points to anything in a skirt.

Mr A was bedding some women way back in 2000. He came back home though. When he liked it. And, like all good husbands, he’d left Mrs A with a gift. However, unlike some husbands who gave gifts such as flowers, jewelleries, etc etc, to their wives, he left her with something more profound. 

He gave her STD. Twice.

For seven years Mrs A went through many, many gigantic emotional breakdowns and roller coasters. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. On top of that, Mr A also thinks that Mrs A is his punching bag every time he feels like it. What an aXXXXXX (feel free to fill in more expletive word here). Her family is not helping either.

Mr A also thinks that it is OK for him to casually phone his girlfriends while Mrs A is around, and they would talk shop till all cows come home. He also thinks that it is OK for his girlfriends to snide Mrs A on the phone by telling how good he is in bed. What a toot! toot!


I have no idea what goes on in her mind, but one thing for sure, this was what she said, ” All I want is my husband back…..”


What Is Your Verdict, My Husband?

Well, here are some pictures I would like to share with those who care to read my blog.


  Sleeping in my bed..


…………….Coming to my restaurant, and chances are, eating my food too.


This girl was in my bed, in MY house back in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah. Looks like the towels are mine too. I hope my husband didnt forget to send the beedsheets and the towels for cleaning and, better still to clorox all of the items. Not sure what sort of germs left behind. (I am pondering whether to discard my clothes too in the wardrobe just in case….hmmmmm)

One thing I must comment is, my husband does have good taste. 😉 She has nice hair. Oh, heres a new pix of her new hair.


(posing in the TV room in my house, how cosy…)

And, her name is Emily.