Shattered Reflection

The year was 2011, and the sun hung high in the sky, casting its golden rays upon a day that would forever change my life. Little did I know that within the depths of this seemingly ordinary afternoon lay an extraordinary encounter—one that would leave me questioning the very fabric of humanity.

Walking alongside my friend, we approached the entrance of our condominium, oblivious to the events that were about to unfold. And there, at the corner, stood a young girl, no more than eleven years old. She wore the uniform of her school, her tiny frame burdened by the weight of a school bag. It was evident that she awaited the arrival of the school bus, ready to embark on another day of learning and discovery.

But as her eyes met ours, an inexplicable terror seized her fragile form. Her innocent face contorted into a mask of sheer panic, as though she had stumbled upon a supernatural apparition. A desperate instinct to flee ignited within her, but she found herself trapped, unable to escape the impending dread that seemed to consume her.

And then, as if the weight of her fear was too immense to bear, she began to cry. Oh, how her anguished wails shattered the serenity of that day, drawing the attention of passers-by and onlookers who paused in curiosity.

It was as though this young girl, in the recesses of her imagination, beheld not two ordinary individuals, but creatures of another world—beings sent to devour her very essence.

In that moment, I became acutely aware of the color of my skin, the undeniable truth of my African heritage. Like an invisible barrier, it had cast a shadow upon our encounter, coloring it with a mix of bewilderment and pain. And yet, amidst the hurt, a flicker of compassion ignited within my heart, compelling me to reach out to her, to assuage her terror, to bridge the gap that divided us.

But even as I took a step forward, the rational part of my mind interjected, cautioning me against the perils that lay hidden in the fabric of our society. A web of prejudice and misunderstanding that could so easily ensnare me, painting me as the villain in a twisted narrative orchestrated by the hands of fear.

And so, with a heavy heart, I made the conscious decision to retreat, to evade the questioning gazes that threatened to strip away my humanity.

This was not the first time I had encountered such reactions, these unfathomable responses that cut deep into my soul. But this incident, on that fateful day, it lingered within me, refusing to be dismissed or forgotten.

As my heart pondered, swirling in the tempest of my thoughts, a haunting question emerged like a specter, shrouding my mind in a haze of uncertainty: "Why us?"

Innumerable souls, adorned with the very shades of her complexion, conversing in the familiar cadence of her native tongue, bearing the contours of her own visage, and even those without a shared language but bound by the unbreakable thread of Asian heritage, had trodden this very path.

Yet, I observed, she did not bestow disdainful glances or react with agitation as callously as she did to us, casting us aside with contemptuous indifference. We, however, remained rooted, confronting the scornful gazes and disdainful reactions.

"Why," I implored the heavens, my voice laced with a desperate plea, "should it be us?" The question echoed relentlessly, enveloping me in its paradoxical grasp, leaving me to unravel the mysterious fate that had befallen us.

As I reflect upon that bewildering encounter, I am consumed by a burning desire for answers—a relentless quest to unravel the mysteries that lie beneath the surface. I yearn not only for comprehension but for a solution that will mend the fractures in our society, healing the wounds inflicted by ignorance and prejudice.

For in this world, where innocence and fear collide, it is the responsibility of each and every one of us to foster understanding and acceptance.

To challenge the narratives that seek to divide us and instead embrace the richness and diversity of our shared humanity. Only then can we hope to forge a path towards lasting change—a future where encounters like these become relics of the past, confined to the annals of a bygone era.

And so, as I continue on my journey, I carry with me the weight of that life-altering experience, the echoes of that young girl's cries resonating within my soul. It is a burden that fuels my determination, propelling me forward on a path paved with compassion, empathy, and an unwavering belief in the transformative power of unity.

In the sphere of my closest allies and trusted partners, Malaysians shine bright, their character and friendship truly remarkable. Yet, there lingers a shadow of occasional moments tainted by a few who seek to cast a stain on the collective.

It will be a narrative flaw to generalize, a danger of the single story, as eloquently expressed by my beloved sister, the renowned novelist Chimamanda Adichie, in her viral TEDx talk.

However, I am heartened to see the gradual absence of such incidents, as the influx of diverse individuals, with their rich black hues, challenges and reshapes preconceived notions and perceptions, opening the door to a more inclusive and enlightened world.