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iZZAH MEMPRKATAKAN TENTANG KEHIDUPAN, CABARAN, SEJARAH
DLL - DISAMPAIKAN DALAM SUSUNAN KATA YANG BAIK.
SHE HAS GROWN UP TO SHARE HER STRUGGLE.
Izzah, be strong and may ALLah bless you, always.
Subject:
[beritamalaysia] Mechanics of my hope - Nurul Izzah Anwar
Date:
Wed, 26 Dec 2001 01:18:06 +0800
From:
"Y.W.Loke" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Reply-To:
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To:
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CC:
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http://membersites.namezero.com/n3a.9599.org/suaraanum/121201.htm
Mechanics of My Hope
Nurul Izzah Anwar
Regrets, they say, are a part of life. A life led without regrets is a
life
not well lived. I've had regrets, as I'm sure most of us have. I am not
regretful of how my life turned out (yes, I am aware that this is only
my
21st year on Earth) but instead, regretful of how slow I am in reaching
the
realm of idealism.
Life for me began with a certain sense of normalcy, and definitely
devoid of
any feeling of youthful exuberance mingled with any leaning towards a
meaningful idealism. This was certainly the existing scenario, up until
the
September of 1998.
The month before of the same year, saw me as a young teenager without a
strong sense of conviction or idealism -they say ignorance is bliss.
Perhaps
that categorically explains much of the feeling at that particular time.
A
time of busy studying, hanging out with friends and unconscious of
worldly
cares.
Then one fine month in 1998, I wrote a letter to my dearest father. It
was
his birthday letter, since there was very little choice of presents in
the
dusty town of Tronoh, while you were experiencing your early days of
student
life.
I wrote him of my soul-searching endeavour to find the deeper meaning in
this life of ours, on how I often wondered of his younger days, filled
with
excitement and rebellion. But most of all, I wrote to him to inquire on
how
it felt like to lead a life filled with meaning and filled with
idealism;
the core ingredients in the struggle for justice and truth. It was in
the
month of August, written while I was obligingly ignoring my lectures and
missing my family, especially my father. I don't know why I wrote it,
but I
remembered how curious I was, filled with eagerness and glee, awaiting
impatiently for a reply.
I knew very little of his heydays back in campus, except for the things
that
my uncles and aunts would tell me. He would often joke about his
cabinet
experiences, or rather, mishaps. But about Baling, UM, the famous
demonstrations, we kids know so little of. His earlier incarceration in
the
year 1974 was never discussed thoroughly with the rest of us. I wondered
how
he overcame that particular challenge. In having a sense of pride, I did
wish I had a first hand insight as to how it all went.
Dissatisfaction overcame my whole being. How could I then, ever be
satisfied
with the life I was leading, lacking in excitement and meaning, and all
things spicy -only to be boring down educational books, on atoms and
force
and Einstein's theory of Relativity? I must know everything there is to
know
about this father of mine to satisfy my hunger for knowledge and cure my
soul of this longing and emptiness!
I've waited until now for my queries to be answered. But, as God had
planned
it, September 1998 arrived the next month and before I knew it,
ironically,
my wishes were granted. That is not to say it did not come with a heavy
price.
Everything happened all at once. The world, filled with such innocence
and
lighthearted candor before, slowly became blurred with the picture of
uncertainty and apprehension.
And then it slowly came to me. In reliving these tragic moments, I had
found
my answers. You go through life experiences and relive moment to moment.
Every moment has meaning that is not to be missed.
Events on the month of September 1998 have been discussed at length by
various personalities. We could, venture further -in reliving the
tragedy,
supposedly seen from my eyes. But I will not go there. I will, instead
discuss on how it had shaped me into who I am now, although not very
different from the young, impressionable teenage girl I was before but
yet,
some things are altered. And everything, from how you greet each coming
day
to how meaningful a fatherly hug can be has changed forever.
How you view suffering -especially seen happening to others and how you
value ideals and principles, as the very meaning of life itself has
changed
tremendously for me. I could no longer shut my eyes from the truth. I
could
no longer hide in my cocoon of safety and not knowing. I must embrace
this
challenge and accept it as the will of God.
For we will never be burdened with a burden greater than our strength
and
there exists hikmah in every single experience that graces our life.
"On no soul does Allah place a burden greater than he can bear" -
Al-Baqarah, verse 286
One of the things I remembered most is the ISA period. The period of
pure
darkness and fright. Where your only solace comes from your belief in
God
and the phrase that was constantly repeated was that whatever happens,
whatever anyone did to us, God will somehow save us.
Then a small flicker of hope appeared about a week after my father's
detention under the Internal Security Act. Destiny had it that I should
travel abroad -to further the cause for reform, to advance the call for
justice and to reach out to the outside world.
It proved to be one of the most difficult and formidable tasks that I
had to
perform. Challenges and choices present themselves in a most peculiar
way. I
was torn between what I deemed as right and at the same time, what
others
thought as unwise.
It was a time of reckoning and coming to terms with maturity. With a
single
act, I felt and was made to feel as though I could free my father and
secure
success for the movement or fail everyone and face the impending doom.
All of this depended on the choice of whether I would or would not meet
with
the Presidents of Indonesia and the Philippines respectively. Being 18
years
of age, and clueless of world politics were both extremely discouraging
and
far from being helpful.
You hear advices, taunts, threats and praises being thrown to you while
the
people who are dear to you try their very best to secure success. It is
not
that the things they spoke of were exaggerated. It is just that at
times,
one must always keep focus of things and never blow them out of
proportion.
Politics takes time to digest, I suppose. Naivete alone helped the girl
of
eighteen to believe that she could help free her father and triumph the
movement during her short trip overseas.
But there is beauty in being na�ve. Because you never lose sight of
hope.
Hope for a better tomorrow, in the Asian context; a more constructive
diplomacy. That took place as I shook hands with President Habibie and
President Estrada. I remembered the risk taken and the kindness granted
to a
daughter of a prisoner, who was wrongfully accused. Yes, maybe it was
easier
for me to champion his cause for I am his daughter, but for them and the
hundreds of thousands of people who have thrown caution to the wind? It
is
they who should be applauded for within them lies the true meaning of
idealism, of holding to what is true and principles that are outlined in
our
religious and moral values. But all this proved to be only the starting
point, of something far more arduous than any one of us could have
imagined.
Time is to be of essence. Time helps us understand and helps us gather
strength in the days to come. And at times, it can make one grow
increasingly impatient. As the frequency of the trips made abroad
increased,
so did my hopes decrease. I have wondered from time to time, when will
the
struggle eventually lead to success. I have searched deep within my
soul,
spent restless nights thinking and worrying. It did seem so easy and
short
when we first started but now.
Then, stopping myself, I started to remember those who have spent each
restless night in an empty, dark and lonely cell.
How on earth are they to cope with the bleakness of reality? Time goes
by
very slowly, and more so when you're imprisoned. These people have
suffered
greatly, but their souls remain strong, their convictions harder than
steel.
They have persevered because they hold firmly to their beliefs, the
belief
that truth, justice will prevail, the iron bars but a short journey in
the
life long struggle of upholding all that is good.
It has been three years since the tragic events took place. The movement
has
taken a quieter tone, with repression of speech, the total government
control of mainstream media, the jailing of opposition leaders and the
September 11th attacks have further lend credence to increase the
crackdown
on opposition.
But all this should not be a seen as a despondent time in the struggle.
All
movements have its high and low junctures, but we must always remember
that
to achieve success, one must always observe a certain degree of patience
and
perseverance. This in turn, will help in generating success, however
small.
My heart quenched in fear every time my father made any reference to the
laboriously long struggle of Nelson Mandela, who spent 27 years in jail,
before apartheid was successfully abolished. But yet, it did provide a
sense
of solace and a glimmer of hope of the impending future.
Nelson Mandela remained unscathed in the efforts of his captors to leave
him
embittered. He maintained his dignity and showered others with his
magnanimity. He held no grudges against his oppressors and treated them
with
civility. We can only strive to reach that level of human spirit.
3 years is not a long time, by normal standards of a struggle, and we
will
certainly pass through many trials and tribulations before we succeed.
As
people of the book, success is not measured in worldly accomplishments
only,
but of a further attainment, that with sincerity and pureness of heart,
shall be rewarded in the hereafter.
"And fight them on, until there is no more tumult or oppression, and
there
prevail justice and faith in Allah"
- Al-Baqarah verse 193
"And do thou be patient for thy patience is but from Allah; nor grieve
over
them, and distress not thyself because of their plots. For Allah is with
those who restraint themselves and those who
do good."
- An -Nahl verse 127-128
We will encounter questions in this life - questions, from the simple
and
mundane ones to the philosophical meaning of our existence. The
important
thing is to remember to reach out to the answers and try with all your
might, to fulfill our mission in reliving humanity. Never take
happiness,
love, justice and all things virtuous for granted. Hold them dearly
within
your heart, for in all these virtues, lie the essence of God.
And to all this, and so much more, I have one main person to thank and
to
cherish for the rest of my life -my beloved father, Anwar Ibrahim.
_________
http://www.suaraanum.com/
SuaraAnum.com
ISSUE 1 DECEMBER 2001
SuaraAnum.com is a project by the Publications Bureau, Unit Pendidikan
Politik - Institut Kajian Dasar (Political Education Unit - Institute
for
Policy Research).
SuaraAnum.com is a monthly webzine published by young Malaysian writers.
Interested to contribute? You must be under 35.
_________
[YW: The Editor of SuaraAnum.com is Nik Nazmi Nik Ahmad, a "nearly 20"
college student.]
The Editor's column
Welcome to the first issue of SuaraAnum.com. Many might wonder about the
name of this webzine. Having searched high and low for a suitable name,
columnist CK Tan suggested the title, which means in Malay 'the voice of
youth'. Ironically, the title came from a Chinese, and the Editor, an
ethnic
Malay heard the word 'anum' for the first time.
Ripples, my column, suggested by contributor Sharon, on the other hand
signifies on the impact the webzine will hopefully have - like a stone
thrown into a stagnant pond, it will cause ripples that challenges our
thinking, our mind-set and our prejudice.
Too often, the voice of youth has been disregarded in discussions about
the
country, although it is us, the youths of Malaysia that will inherit the
country in the future.
Hopefully, my dream would be realised. This website is a labour of love
from
a group of Malaysian young writers, it is non-profitable and run on a
voluntary basis.
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