10 February 2012
Life is short and unpredictable. One minute, I was having a blast with friends in Thailand the next I was all excited about Malaysia then within a matter of seconds, I find myself being robbed and beaten at knifepoint and losing faith in humanity when people who clearly witnessed the attack did nothing to help at all. I was desperate…I was scared and I called out for help but all I felt was a sense of helplessness and “That’s-it-I’m-dying.” I realised that in the end, no one can help you except for yourself.
6:45pm- I just got off Maharajalela Monorail Station and I remember that I could either take the bridge with brightly lit lights or walk along a dark street then cross the road to get to my guesthouse. Obviously, I took the former route. I made it to the other end, it was fine then a 1.67m skinny man who was slightly tipsy suddenly grabbed me and kicked me to the ground. I fell with my backpack still on and I struggled to get rid of the excess weight. I got up and with his hand around my neck and a knife pointing to my face, he shouted “Money, give me all money or you die. You die here bitch!”
I told him that I can’t give him any money if his knife is on me so he backed away a bit and I reached into my pocket to give him money. But, he freaked out thinking that I was getting something else so he went berserk, pushed me to the ground and started to use his knife to slash my baggy pants. Thank goodness he was tipsy and as I held his hands and tried to stop his mad slashing motions, I was trying to find the best way to get out of this situation. When the attack was going on, I saw hope since a man was walking by. I yelled out “help me, help me” but he ran as fast as he could then came a second man and like the first, he ran. During this time, I locked him in a firm grip and did the best I could to get the knife far away from me as possible and finally, I saw my hope – a Western couple. I yelled out once again and the muscular man stopped and looked at me hesitantly…he wanted to help but his wife pulled him away and gestured him to leave so they left…and I was in total despair.
Fuck! That’s it..I’m dying. I realised that no one is going to help me and all I can do is to help myself. If I die, he must die with me so I started to push all thoughts of being saved by someone else out of my head and turned the struggle into a fight…a fight for survival. Since he was tipsy, he was slightly taken back at my sudden push and as he fell back, I punched him on the jaw twice and kicked him in the chest. As he fell completely backwards, I punched him three more times before having him lunge at me again…so I punched with only one aim in mind : I want him dead. Before he could carry on further, an Indian guy saw what happened and yelled at him. He ran off and what followed was a trip to the nearest police station before being transferred to the tourist police station.
The police were sympathetic but initially refused to type up a report and make a record of the attack. After much persistence from my side, they hurriedly typed up a report (lots of mistakes) and transferred me to the KL police headquarter to assist them with identifying the attacker.
“Madam, please be careful. This happens everyday…it is very common” said one of the policewoman.
Thank you for trying to comfort me but it’s not working.
They drove me to the headquarter and I followed them up to Level 10. It was already close to 11 pm- some 3 hours after the ordeal and the fight replayed in my mind over and over again. A nice gentleman read the report and handed me a thick folder.
“Can you find the attacker here?”
I flipped through the folder and found pages after pages of Indians.
“All criminals! Indians are mostly responsible for everything from petty crime to gang-related crimes. Burglary, arson attacks, stabbing cases, murder, you name it they’ve committed it. Of course along with other gangs, drug trafficking is huge. Anyways, have you found him?”
There he was- the skinny Indian, third row, 6th from the left on the third page.
The officer took down some notes and asked me to take care before letting me go. I was no longer shaking. I was fuming with anger.
To this day, I’ve always tried my best to avoid Malaysia. It’s unfair to feel this way since there are great people and beauty in this country but I’ll need time to get over it. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time and I guess I had to go through it so that I’m able to appreciate life more and realise that no one can save you except for yourself.
After the attack, I spend the whole day recovering….looking at my bleeding knuckles and wounded fist. I was still pissed off at the cowards who did nothing to help me and vowed that if I see people in danger and if I’m able to help them then I’ll do all that I can. I was still fuming and disappointed that in the capital city of a country that is no stranger to tourists, security is a mess and crime is common. The police officer who met me while I was buying some lunch tried to cheer me up.
“Madam, do you know marital arts or something? You did really great and I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Rest well please and do visit Malaysia again.”
Embarrassing : a student of Wing Chun who still managed to get herself injured. I panicked at the sight of the knife and didn’t perform my best. I wanted to kill that bastard but he ran away. And, no…I really have no intentions to visit Malaysia again.
It’s very hard to enjoy the country when you’ve experienced something nasty first-hand. However, since I’ve made it very clear that I have no intentions to see KL again, I must get out there and see a bit of the city. So, no more pissed off and sulking face- time to smile in my Malaysian photos.
And to the two men and that couple who did nothing to help me, just remember one word: Karma!