It wasn't just any family. The whole shop already knew. The whisper started from the back - "Rohingya." And not even the ones with UN card quietly selling vegetables. The illegal ones. The ones who came in as refugees and then decided they are now landlords of the whole area. You know them. We all know them. One day selling tongkat, next day got 3 stalls, next day driving bigger car than you. And somehow, they are more Malaysian than Malaysians when it comes to shouting.This family came in like they own the mall. Father, mothers with kid on hip, and 5-6 kids that run wild like the shop is their kampung backyard. No shoes properly, screaming at the top of their lungs, throwing ice cream cups at each other. One cup hit the floor, melted. Another kid went and shook the trash can shook it until the plastic liner fell and trash started coming out. Like it's a toy.The staff, those poor kids in black uniform, they clean, they sweep, they smile. They finally cannot tahan. One boy goes, "Bang, sorry ya, jangan bising sangat boleh?"Polite. So polite that even my mother would say, "baiknya budak ni."You know what the father did? He switched. Instantly.From blur father who doesn't see his kids destroying a shop, to gangster. Chest puffed. Eyes big. Finger pointing - that long, rude, right-in-your-face finger. And that attitude. That arrogant, "you don't know who I am" attitude."You wait! You wait! You wait ah!"
For what? Wait for what? You want to call your gang? You want to bring your whole village? We told you to control your kids, not to challenge you to a boxing match. This is the part that makes the blood of any normal Malaysian boil. It's not just the noise. It's the disrespect. The sheer, shameless arrogance. You are a refugee. You ran from your country. Malaysia gave you place to stay, place to eat, place to open shop, place to have 6 kids and two wife screaming in an aircond mall. We didn't ask much. We just said, "eh, don't be rude in the shop lah. "And your answer is arrogance? Pointing fingers? Threatening the staffs who are half your age and just trying to earn RM1800 a month? Who taught you this confidence? Where does this big-head come from? We Malaysians, if we go to other people's country, we become small. We say sorry even when it's not our fault. We take off shoes, we say thank you, we don't throw rubbish. But some people come here, illegal some more, no document, no respect for law, and they act like we are the guests and they are the owners. Look at the mother - holding a baby, standing there, watching her husband shout at a kid who is just doing his job. No shame. No "sorry ya dik, budak-budak ni nakal." Nothing. Just entitlement. Like the shop should be thankful they came. And the best part? After shouting "you wait", he starts pointing at the cables behind him. At the wall. At the back store. Like he's a big contractor. "Is anyone taking care of them??" Boss, we don't care about cables. We care that your son just used our trash can as a shaker. This is what we common people are tired of. We are tired of being told to be compassionate, to be kind, to be understanding, while we watch people who are supposed to be refugees act like kings. Illegal king, some more.
You want to stay here? Fine. Stay. Work. Live. But learn some adab. Learn some respect. This is Malaysia. We may be quiet, we may be polite, we may not shout back in the shop because we got manners, but we see everything. We see the rudeness. We see the arrogance. We see how when a local Malaysian does a small mistake, MB comes and sita terus. But when they make noise, throw cups, threaten staff, shake rubbish bins until all trash falls out - no one does anything. That's why they dare to be different. So yeah, we are angry. Not because they are Rohingya. Because they are rude. Because they are arrogant. Because they are illegal and still act like they can point fingers at us in our own country. You want us to wait? We have been waiting. Waiting for someone to take care. Waiting for some strict rules. Waiting for common sense to come back. Until then, we will keep queuing for our drink, watching the trash on the floor, and listening to someone shout "you wait" in a shop that isn't even his.
ENDS
BY
Sam Trailerman
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