Friday, July 31, 2009
Of Talent and Hardwork
Something happened today. All I can say here is that no matter how good you are at what you do, it is the people who know how to sweet talk that make it. It hit me hard today. Like a tonne of bricks :(
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Friends for the Battered Soul
(from left) Susan, me, Jocelyn,
Benn, Hui Shim and Chai.
I spent last night giggling, bitching (no prizes if you guess right for what), rolling eyes and making faces. I was with 5 awesome women who have become friends through our work in environmental education.
I realised after I got home how good that two-hour-plus dinner at Secret Recipe in Warisan Square felt. I was rejuvenated, I was smiling, I had a spring in my step. In that precious time, we laughed our pains away, we joked and we probably decided that life is not that bad after all.
Thank you -- Susan, Benn, Hui Shim, Chai and Jocelyn :)
Update: Tonight, I met a different group of friends at the Loft. And had a real fun time too. Cheers to Shan, Melissa, Yolanda and Jeremy :)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
If 6 billion people lived in 1 town...
Fish at Kg Luanti in Ranau. Villagers "harvest"fish a few times a year, so that there will be
enough fish stock forever. Locally known as the
"tagal" system.
A rafflesia, the world's largest flower. I tookthis shot in Poring a year ago.
At 4,095.2 metres, Mount Kinabalu never fails to awe me.
Cruising for wildlife at the Kinabatangan
Cruising for wildlife at the Kinabatangan river in eastern Sabah.
Sunrise at the Kinabatangan river
Sunrise at the Kinabatangan river in eastern Sabah.
Here's some trivia I want to share with you. I was at a public lecture this morning, and Malaysian Nature Society president Tan Sri Dr Salleh Mohd Noor said something interesting (or at least interesting to me). He asked everyone to imagine if the world's population of 6 billion lived in one town and what the demographic/social status/etc would be like. This is what I managed to jot down:
1. In that town, Asians make up 57%, followed by 21% Europeans, 14% Americans and 8% Africans.
2. There are more women -- 52%.
3. 70% are of coloured skin, and the rest are Caucasians.
4. Just 6% own 59% of wealth in that town.
5. A whopping 80% dont have proper living conditions.
6. Only 1 person has a computer.
7. Only 1 person has higher education.
There were a few more stats, but I couldnt jot them all down fast enough. But what really hit me is how lucky we are, at least here in Malaysia. Anyway, the message that the Tan Sri was trying to drive home was that we are privileged in this country, and that we must do our best to help planet Earth, which is plagued by climate change, biodiversity loss and population growth.
I try to do my part, whenever I can. I dont take plastic bags (unless I really dont have a choice), and I bring along a shopping bag (keep one in your car). I try not to waste. I am not perfect, will never be, but I am doing what I can. The world belongs to us. Lets take responsibility :)
Monday, July 27, 2009
Work for money, or for joy?
This is the question that has been running over and over like a broken record in a corner of my brain. When I was a child growing up in Kota Kinabalu, I had no idea what work was about. I dont think I ever heard my parents say anything about work, and my aunt who used to work as a reporter, made it sound like loads of fun. Mind you, she worked in the pre-computer days. I remember hearing her type stories late into the night on a tiny, white (I think it was white) typewriter. If she made a mistake, she had to start all over again. And I remember she had this godzilla-sized tape recorder. And yes, I dont think she ever complained.
So I went to university and landed my first job on my last day at campus. I became a reporter, just like my aunt. For the record, my late grandfather was a sports writer. So it runs in the family. Anyway, its now been 12 years, 1 month and 27 days since I filed my first story for the NST. I must admit that it has been an amazing experience. I've had slimy water (thickened with poo, rubbish and I-dont-dare-to-imagine-what-else) splashed at me when a fireman lost control of a hose, I've stood in my heels outside the morgue late at night, I've flown on army helicopters, survived high seas to get a story on seaweed farming in northern Sabah, and plenty of other things. I almost fainted in Danum Valley when I covered a WWF Rhino tracking story two years ago ... because there were just way too many leeches and I panicked. Nine years ago, I burst into tears, again at Danum Valley, when the producer of Eco Challenge told me and my colleagues that there was no food for us, and that meals were only for foreign reporters. The Mark Burnett some of you revere said : "What were you expecting? Wine and cheese?" We walked away, and some kind souls from Telekom Malaysia shared their limited cans of sardines with us.
I've shaken hands with ministers, been to fancy hotels, eaten some of the best foods. On the other end of the extreme, I've seen a mother feed a baby watered down rice because she cant afford to buy milk in a remote part of Sabah. I've seen children walk for miles to get to school, and run away when I offered them sweets. I may not have done much, but every experience has made me a better person.
And yet, today, I am asking myself if I still want to do this. If I stay, how long more can I stay passionate about my job? I see to many reporters who dont have passion for what they do, and I feel sad for them. Maybe I am becoming like them too. I dont know. Yes, money is important, and I thank God for putting a roof over my head and enough to eat every day. But is money everything? Isn't it important to sit by a river when I want? Do my nails when I want? Do what I please when I want?
I pick joy over money.
So I went to university and landed my first job on my last day at campus. I became a reporter, just like my aunt. For the record, my late grandfather was a sports writer. So it runs in the family. Anyway, its now been 12 years, 1 month and 27 days since I filed my first story for the NST. I must admit that it has been an amazing experience. I've had slimy water (thickened with poo, rubbish and I-dont-dare-to-imagine-what-else) splashed at me when a fireman lost control of a hose, I've stood in my heels outside the morgue late at night, I've flown on army helicopters, survived high seas to get a story on seaweed farming in northern Sabah, and plenty of other things. I almost fainted in Danum Valley when I covered a WWF Rhino tracking story two years ago ... because there were just way too many leeches and I panicked. Nine years ago, I burst into tears, again at Danum Valley, when the producer of Eco Challenge told me and my colleagues that there was no food for us, and that meals were only for foreign reporters. The Mark Burnett some of you revere said : "What were you expecting? Wine and cheese?" We walked away, and some kind souls from Telekom Malaysia shared their limited cans of sardines with us.
I've shaken hands with ministers, been to fancy hotels, eaten some of the best foods. On the other end of the extreme, I've seen a mother feed a baby watered down rice because she cant afford to buy milk in a remote part of Sabah. I've seen children walk for miles to get to school, and run away when I offered them sweets. I may not have done much, but every experience has made me a better person.
And yet, today, I am asking myself if I still want to do this. If I stay, how long more can I stay passionate about my job? I see to many reporters who dont have passion for what they do, and I feel sad for them. Maybe I am becoming like them too. I dont know. Yes, money is important, and I thank God for putting a roof over my head and enough to eat every day. But is money everything? Isn't it important to sit by a river when I want? Do my nails when I want? Do what I please when I want?
I pick joy over money.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Do sad songs make you cry?
I listen to slow songs, filled with rather sad lyrics. Why? I have no idea why. I guess I go for the melody. So, why do people listen to sad songs?
This question came up last week when I was in Kuala Lumpur attending a course. And there were all sorts of answers, or half-answers. Then, a young man (maybe in his early 20s) offered this answer: "Because People Are Sad." It is not so much about the words that he used, but the way he said it. He was so convinced that people are sad. He said it with conviction. He was sure of his answer.
I still dont have an answer for that question. Maybe you know?
This question came up last week when I was in Kuala Lumpur attending a course. And there were all sorts of answers, or half-answers. Then, a young man (maybe in his early 20s) offered this answer: "Because People Are Sad." It is not so much about the words that he used, but the way he said it. He was so convinced that people are sad. He said it with conviction. He was sure of his answer.
I still dont have an answer for that question. Maybe you know?
Friday, July 17, 2009
Of Native Customary Rights
The upper Kinabatangan river is used by indigenouspeople in central Sabah for transport, washing clothes,
bathing. But many rivers are polluted no thanks to
poison from agriculture dumped into it.
A grandma in central Sabah with her harvest of tapioca.
“We have native customary rights over the land we live and work on, but from what has happened to villagers in other parts of the country, we know that we will not be safe without land titles issued by the government.
“About nine years ago, there was some hope when we were told we will soon get titles. Today, we are still waiting,” said Linus Leo Lansama, the headman of Kampung Kibunut in Penampang, about 45 minutes away from the bustling city of Kota Kinabalu.
The fear of one day being forced to abandon their homes and farms is real not just for the 700 Kadazandusun people at Kampung Kibunut, but also for the millions of indigenous communities worldwide who are often marginalised when governments fail to recognise native traditions and institutions practised before modern laws were written.
In Malaysia alone, indigenous people from more than 80 ethno-linguistic groups make up about 4 million, or some 15 per cent of the population, but are collectively among the poorest in the country following non-recognition of their rights, according to findings of the Indigenous Peoples Network of Malaysia (JOAS).
Now that Malaysia has voted and adopted the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of the Indigenous Peoples (UN-DRIP), there is some hope for indigenous people to uphold their rights, although it is at the same time becoming increasingly clear that the road ahead is not going to be smooth.
A recent march by JOAS members to hand a memorandum to the Yang di-Pertuan Agong at the Istana Negara was stopped half way through by the authorities, and just days later, Orang Asli Affairs Department director-general Mohd Sani Mistam said natives had nothing to do with the event, claiming that they were easily influenced by NGOs “harbouring certain agendas.”
JOAS president Adrian Lasimbang begged to differ on Mohd Sani’s allegation that the march was an attempt by certain parties to hijack the Orang Asli agenda.
Lasimbang pointed out that unlike the department (which only has jurisdiction over indigenous people in peninsula Malaysia), JOAS is made up of and governed by indigenous peoples’ organisations and that non-native people who joined the march had done so with consent.
“We find it insulting that in this day and age the department still thinks of indigenous people as being unable to make up their own minds and that if we are not convinced by the department’s policies, we must be influenced by some other body.
“It is our continuing poverty, bad interpretation of customary rights and international rights are reasons we came up with the memorandum for the King.
“We are asking for Malaysia to implement locally its commitment to UN-DRIP which contains the conditions necessary for a fully developed and secure indigenous community. Indigenous people whether from Sabah, Sarawak or peninsula Malaysia are an integral part of this nation and our issues need to be discussed in public spaces and not swept under the carpet,” Lasimbang who has for many years been involved in working with indigenous people mainly in his homestate of Sabah, said.
One of the requirements of the UN-DRIP is that indigenous people must consent to giving away land which they have rights over, and in the event that they do so, adequate compensation must follow. The same document also states that indigenous people cannot be forced out of their land and territories for relocation programmes without “free, prior and informed consent.”
According to Lasimbang, consulting natives on what they want is important as it empowers them and provides communities with an opportunity to have a say in programmes which governments claim would help eradicate poverty.
“But today, there is a big gap. Native customary land is taken away without consulting indigenous people, who are then told that large plantation schemes are aimed at creating job opportunities for them.
“The indigenous people do not want to become employees on land they have rights over. Once they are not needed, or if the company running a scheme pulls out, they will be jobless and landless. How will this reduce poverty? Sometimes there is a feeling of hopelessness,” he said.
Lasimbang shared that in the case of Sabah, native chiefs were removed from district level land utilisation committee meetings more than a decade ago, proving his point that there was almost no recognition for native customary rights.
Partners of Community Organisations (Pacos) Land Rights programme co-ordinator Galus Atos said he has found that civil servants in charge of land matters in Sabah are ignorant about native customary rights although it is recognised in the state’s Land Ordinance.
Atos said according to the legislation, any indigenous person who has lived on a piece of land for more than three years and has worked on his plot can remain there as provided for under native customary rights.
“In many cases, land is awarded to outsiders and natives end up in police lock ups when they protest. When I bring up the fact that natives have rights over land, staff at district offices are often ignorant that it is provided for in the law.
“I met one villager who travelled the whole day by boat to the Tongod district office (in central Sabah) to check on his land application, only to be told that he will have to come back another day. At that same district, I have seen villagers who have been displaced when land was awarded to plantation companies from outside. These villagers end up at the sides of roads, or they move in with relatives.
“Land is the root of everything. If indigenous people have land, they can work on it and feed their families. When they don’t have land, youths seek jobs in the cities and many end up doing wrong types of work, which then leads to social problems,” Atos said.
Consulting and empowering indigenous people is all that the government now needs to do, meeting its obligation to the UN-DRIP which has entered its second year. Until then, Lansama and other natives will continue to plant crops until their land is pulled from under their feet.
I am reproducing a piece I wrote on rights of indigenous people in Malaysia. It was not used by my paper for some reason which I wont state here.
HAVING toiled their ancestral land for generations, growing tropical fruits, leafy green vegetables and hill padi, a group of farmers only have one wish — to become proud owners of land titles.
“We have native customary rights over the land we live and work on, but from what has happened to villagers in other parts of the country, we know that we will not be safe without land titles issued by the government.
“About nine years ago, there was some hope when we were told we will soon get titles. Today, we are still waiting,” said Linus Leo Lansama, the headman of Kampung Kibunut in Penampang, about 45 minutes away from the bustling city of Kota Kinabalu.
The fear of one day being forced to abandon their homes and farms is real not just for the 700 Kadazandusun people at Kampung Kibunut, but also for the millions of indigenous communities worldwide who are often marginalised when governments fail to recognise native traditions and institutions practised before modern laws were written.
In Malaysia alone, indigenous people from more than 80 ethno-linguistic groups make up about 4 million, or some 15 per cent of the population, but are collectively among the poorest in the country following non-recognition of their rights, according to findings of the Indigenous Peoples Network of Malaysia (JOAS).
Now that Malaysia has voted and adopted the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of the Indigenous Peoples (UN-DRIP), there is some hope for indigenous people to uphold their rights, although it is at the same time becoming increasingly clear that the road ahead is not going to be smooth.
A recent march by JOAS members to hand a memorandum to the Yang di-Pertuan Agong at the Istana Negara was stopped half way through by the authorities, and just days later, Orang Asli Affairs Department director-general Mohd Sani Mistam said natives had nothing to do with the event, claiming that they were easily influenced by NGOs “harbouring certain agendas.”
JOAS president Adrian Lasimbang begged to differ on Mohd Sani’s allegation that the march was an attempt by certain parties to hijack the Orang Asli agenda.
Lasimbang pointed out that unlike the department (which only has jurisdiction over indigenous people in peninsula Malaysia), JOAS is made up of and governed by indigenous peoples’ organisations and that non-native people who joined the march had done so with consent.
“We find it insulting that in this day and age the department still thinks of indigenous people as being unable to make up their own minds and that if we are not convinced by the department’s policies, we must be influenced by some other body.
“It is our continuing poverty, bad interpretation of customary rights and international rights are reasons we came up with the memorandum for the King.
“We are asking for Malaysia to implement locally its commitment to UN-DRIP which contains the conditions necessary for a fully developed and secure indigenous community. Indigenous people whether from Sabah, Sarawak or peninsula Malaysia are an integral part of this nation and our issues need to be discussed in public spaces and not swept under the carpet,” Lasimbang who has for many years been involved in working with indigenous people mainly in his homestate of Sabah, said.
One of the requirements of the UN-DRIP is that indigenous people must consent to giving away land which they have rights over, and in the event that they do so, adequate compensation must follow. The same document also states that indigenous people cannot be forced out of their land and territories for relocation programmes without “free, prior and informed consent.”
According to Lasimbang, consulting natives on what they want is important as it empowers them and provides communities with an opportunity to have a say in programmes which governments claim would help eradicate poverty.
“But today, there is a big gap. Native customary land is taken away without consulting indigenous people, who are then told that large plantation schemes are aimed at creating job opportunities for them.
“The indigenous people do not want to become employees on land they have rights over. Once they are not needed, or if the company running a scheme pulls out, they will be jobless and landless. How will this reduce poverty? Sometimes there is a feeling of hopelessness,” he said.
Lasimbang shared that in the case of Sabah, native chiefs were removed from district level land utilisation committee meetings more than a decade ago, proving his point that there was almost no recognition for native customary rights.
Partners of Community Organisations (Pacos) Land Rights programme co-ordinator Galus Atos said he has found that civil servants in charge of land matters in Sabah are ignorant about native customary rights although it is recognised in the state’s Land Ordinance.
Atos said according to the legislation, any indigenous person who has lived on a piece of land for more than three years and has worked on his plot can remain there as provided for under native customary rights.
“In many cases, land is awarded to outsiders and natives end up in police lock ups when they protest. When I bring up the fact that natives have rights over land, staff at district offices are often ignorant that it is provided for in the law.
“I met one villager who travelled the whole day by boat to the Tongod district office (in central Sabah) to check on his land application, only to be told that he will have to come back another day. At that same district, I have seen villagers who have been displaced when land was awarded to plantation companies from outside. These villagers end up at the sides of roads, or they move in with relatives.
“Land is the root of everything. If indigenous people have land, they can work on it and feed their families. When they don’t have land, youths seek jobs in the cities and many end up doing wrong types of work, which then leads to social problems,” Atos said.
Consulting and empowering indigenous people is all that the government now needs to do, meeting its obligation to the UN-DRIP which has entered its second year. Until then, Lansama and other natives will continue to plant crops until their land is pulled from under their feet.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Am Back!
I am back to blogging (after a failed attempt last year) by force. You see, my sister sent me a message on Facebook minutes ago to say she has set up an account for me in blogspot. Looks like she really wants me to blog, so I wont disappoint her! Thanks Jen :)
I guess for a start, I just want to share how therapeutic virtual farming is. I had a bit of a tiff this afternoon with someone who is way older than me. I turned to Barn Buddy on Facebook and harvested some greens, watered my farm, stole carrots from my friend's farm, helped some of them get rid of weeds and bugs. I honestly felt a lot better after that.
I guess for a start, I just want to share how therapeutic virtual farming is. I had a bit of a tiff this afternoon with someone who is way older than me. I turned to Barn Buddy on Facebook and harvested some greens, watered my farm, stole carrots from my friend's farm, helped some of them get rid of weeds and bugs. I honestly felt a lot better after that.
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