一年了

一年了。重读Rev SivinKit 牧师写的悼文，仍然深深的触动我。

May He be the last...A memorial for Teoh Beng Hock and Beyond

Why are we here tonight? Why can’t we just get on with our lives and simply forget about Teoh Beng Hock?

We saw the tears. We heard the tributes. We were at the funeral. We were watching from a distance. We listened carefully when Beng Hock’s Fiancée Cher Wei spoke her heart:

“You left me without saying any last words. You said we still have a lot of things to accomplish together, that we have not been to many places before. You said you will always walk this life together with me.”

Our hearts broke. Beng Hock is gone. The pain is real. The anger cannot be ignored.
Most of us never knew him when he was alive. Some were fortunate to be friends. Others were fellow colleagues. A few might have remembered his articles in the papers. Let us not forget the loved ones he left behind. Especially the one who is yet to be born.

Now, we all know him in his death. Our hearts are aching. Beng Hock’s life was cut short. The sadness will stay for a while – a long while.


Why are we here tonight? Why can’t we just get on with our lives and simply forget about Teoh Beng Hock?

A lot has been said. Some promises made. MACC. DAP. Royal Commission. Inquest. Politicians. Police. Papers. Blogs.
We may sit comfortably and compare theories on what could have happened. And then, we move on to another topic. Nothing has changed. We might even say nothing will.
But there must be change. Because Teoh Beng Hock is about “us”. All of us. Chinese, Malay, Indian, Orang Asli, Orang Asal - “dan lain lain” - All of “Us” - Malaysians.
More than that – “Beng Hock” was a son, a husband, a father … one of us – a young man with dreams and aspirations.


Why are we here tonight? Why can’t we just get on with our lives and simply forget about Teoh Beng Hock?

He was the first “political death”. But he was not the first to die in custody. They say 1,531 died in custody in 4 years from 2003 to 2007. It’s not just a number. These numbers have names. Here are some:

A Kugan, Samiyati Indrayani Zulkarnain Putra, Francis Udayappan, Tharma Rajan, M Ragupathy, Syed Fadzil Syed Ibrahim, Hasrizal Hamzah, Prakash Moses, Kannan Kanthan, Ahmad Salleh, Ulaganathan Muniandy

But we don’t have all the names too. God knows who they are!

The families sure know …

We entitled tonight “May He be the last”, hoping Beng Hock was indeed the last one to die in the custody of the authorities.

But he wasn’t.

R. Gunasegaran, 31, was next. It was reported he was a drug addict. Drug Addicts are still human. A human who could have had second chance. We will never know.
All these deaths in custody must STOP. Someone is responsible for all these deaths in custody. Who will take responsibility? Who must be accountable? Who will at least tell us the truth?


Why are we here tonight? Why can’t we just get on with our lives and simply forget about Teoh Beng Hock?

Because, today it is Teoh Beng Hock. Tomorrow, it could be you . . . me . . . my son … your daughter … anyone.

A lot has been said thus far. There is so much more to be done. Before the next step, we need to speak less tonight. In fact, we need to get away from the noise for a short while. For tonight’s memorial to have meaning, the choice is ours to go deeper.
As we enter quiet moments together to pause, to remember, to pray and to ponder on what all this means for us. We enter a silence where we the people can find strength and guidance to do what is right. A silence where we can decide to take up our responsibility as a human being with a conscience and conviction for the good of ALL.

So friends, when we leave this place. We will choose to speak out. Not just speak out against the abuse of authority and power, but speak for the victims those whose voices can not be heard.
After tonight, if we mean what we say - “May He be the Last” - we can no longer be silent –


First they came for the Socialists,
and I did not speak out
--Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists,
and I did not speak out
--Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I did not speak out
--Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me
-- and there was no one left to speak for me.

- Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984