As a Malaysian of mixed parentage, I am often mistaken for being Malay.
I've had to explain my background to people from a young age. Some would go on to say, “Bapa Cina, emak Punjabi tapi agama Islam kan?” (Your father is Chinese, your mother is Punjabi, but you are Muslim, right?)
Offended? I never was. And I doubt I ever will be.
Once, my school's ustazah (religious teacher) took it upon herself to remind me that, as a good Muslim and a teenager who had come of age, I should have known better than to skip fasting.
She was the invigilator during my exams.
I had placed my water bottle on my desk during the Mathematics paper. I remember telling her multiple times that I was not fasting. But she went on to say that even if I wasn’t, I should be discreet about it.
With the clock ticking and unanswered questions before me, I realised I had no choice but to "use" the race and religion card to get her off my back.
“Lah, kenapa tak cakap bukan orang Islam?” (Oh, why didn’t you say you’re not Muslim?), she asked.
“Ye lah, ustazah tak tanya,” (You didn’t ask), I replied.
We both laughed it off as she tapped my back. I later asked if I could get back to my exam, and she obliged.
A similar incident happened when I was in Form Five.
It was the last day of the SPM examinations. The heat was scorching, and I was eager to celebrate my newfound freedom.
I stopped by a fast-food outlet near my school and ordered a Strawberry Sundae to go.
The bus stop was empty. Perfect, I thought. Since it was the fasting month, I chose to sit under the pedestrian bridge, shielded by a beam. Occasionally, I moved forward to check if my bus had arrived.
Just as I thought freedom couldn’t taste any sweeter, a middle-aged man suddenly appeared in front of me.
“Astaghfirullah al-azim. Kamu ni buang tebiat ke apa?” (Are you out of your mind?) he said.
I stopped eating.
“Kenapa, pakcik?” (What’s the matter, Uncle?), I asked.
“Ye lah, kamu ni tak malu ke, makan aiskrim depan orang. Malulah sikit. Dah la tak puasa.” (Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Eating ice cream in public while not fasting?)
“Tapi, pakcik...” (But, Uncle...), I tried interjecting, but he wouldn’t let me explain. He went on and on.
Finally, when he was done, I said, “Tapi saya tak puasa, pakcik. Saya bukan orang Islam.” (But I’m not fasting, Uncle. I’m not a Muslim.)
He walked away without saying a word.
Assumptions and misunderstandings
Never in my life did I think I would one day share my Ramadan experiences in public. I have always seen such encounters – where I had to justify my actions – as trivial.
However, after learning about a recent incident in Johor Bahru, I felt compelled to write about it.
A non-Muslim man was allegedly slapped by a middle-aged man for eating in public. The incident reportedly took place in a convenience store at a shopping mall on March 16.
The victim, a 21-year-old, claimed the suspect questioned his ethnicity, demanded to see his identity card, and then allegedly slapped him.
While the suspect’s son later apologised on his father’s behalf, the victim felt disrespected for being slapped in public.
“I can accept the apology, but I can’t let this go,” the victim allegedly posted on X.
The case is now being investigated under Section 323 of the Penal Code for voluntarily causing hurt.
Many on social media have defended the victim, questioning the actions of the middle-aged man.
Unity Minister Datuk Seri Aaron Ago Dagang was quick to address the matter, calling it a provocative act that threatens Malaysia’s racial harmony.
“This country will only progress if we respect each other and live in peace, free from racial or religious tension,” said Aaron.
He urged Malaysians to uphold the values of mutual understanding, respect, and acceptance to maintain national unity.
A lesson in mutual respect
I have deep admiration for my family and friends who fast throughout Ramadan. I doubt I will ever have the willpower to abstain from food and drinks from dawn till sunset.
Just as Muslims may experience physical and mental challenges during the holy month, non-Muslims may also face inconveniences.
We often hear of friends – or friends of friends – being stopped from eating or buying food because they were mistaken for Muslims.
I am reminded of my own teenage experiences every time Ramadan comes around. Even today, I am occasionally asked if I am Muslim when dining out during this period.
While we await the outcome of the Johor Bahru case, this incident serves as a reminder that Malaysia still has room for reflection.
People should not take matters into their own hands without first understanding the facts.
Mutual respect, clear communication, and a willingness to ask questions when in doubt are vital in a multicultural, multireligious nation like ours.
As Aaron rightly said, this country will only progress if we respect each other and live in peace, free from racial or religious tension.