SEPTEMBER 11 — The Abang Bas furore brought attention to the phenomenon of child grooming.
What I wasn’t crazy about was that most of the reporting lightly skidded around the elephant in the room — the level of impropriety involved.
A lot of the reporting made it seem as though the bus driver was making random videos of schoolgirls on his bus, when in reality most of his startling videos revolved around his own niece.
It was something her mother, his sister, publicly acknowledged and his longtime TikTok followers verified.
Yet his supporters and his own family see nothing wrong with what he did, some even going so far as calling it slander despite the video evidence.
It worries me because this case will set a precedent for future such cases and it further worries me that some of his supporters are saying the only thing he did wrong was upload what he was doing.
We have a problem, Putrajaya
In 2021, Malaysian police stated that an average of 15 incest cases were reported each month with victims lodging most of the reports.
What is harrowing to me is that the Abang Bas TikTok account had views in the hundreds of thousands, with many comments calling the videos cute and the bus driver quipping, “I’m waiting until she gets older.”
Logically if your own blood said that about your daughter, you should be horrified and possibly ban them from going near your children.
Somehow in Malaysia, it becomes entertainment and if it wasn’t for a shocked Malaysian sharing the terrible content on Twitter or that thing some billionaire called X, who knows how many more gut churning videos would be made?
Personally, I found it all very triggering as a child sexual assault survivor and having been harassed, stalked and molested every decade of my life.
The only men I have ever felt safe with, who I knew would not harm me in a sexual manner, were the men in my family.
Home is where the locks are
When I was at a particularly low point of my life with very little money, I had to share a tiny rental room with my brother.
I could sleep soundly without worrying about my safety with him sleeping on a mattress metres away.
Growing up, my parents were also painfully aware of boundaries — we were never forced, for instance, to accept physical affection from anyone, not family friends, not even extended family.
My mother did despair that as a child I was more of a wary cat than a little girl, as I would hide behind corners, doors or in my room rather than deal with visitors.
Yet she never forced me, ever, except she would call out to say my grandparents were leaving, but as my grandparents were also soft touches, they would instead come to my room and wait for me to open my door.
Those last years my grandfather was alive were the last years I had no need to be afraid of men.
Before I was assaulted in a public library, before a teacher would stare at me all the time to the point even my primary school friends noticed, before a man groped my chest while I was walking home with groceries.
I have so many stories that when I tell people, they think I am either lying or desirous of attention.
Why would I make those stories up when I could instead say I had a torrid affair with a film star?
If I could erase all those incidents from my memory, I would, but I can’t.
Strange men had hurt me, as had past boyfriends, but family is where I felt safe and that should be the case for all girls and women, to find refuge and protection at home.
Yet I skim the headlines and read about a man who drunkenly raped his own mother on the way back to their home, and I start wishing I could no longer read.
As a child advocate once told me, “Malaysia doesn’t really care about children.”
I think we do have people who care; I just don’t think people understand how much we need to care.
Whether it is filmed on TikTok or done in private, there are things you just can’t do to children even if they are your own flesh and blood.
What I have learned now is that there are Malaysians who are a lot more bothered about consensual public affection between adults than inappropriate behaviour towards children.
Children are not playthings. They are not pretty dolls to show off and squeeze or cuddle.
Though they may have little reasoning, they deserve bodily autonomy. They also deserve more protection than we have given them now and TikTok shouldn’t be showing us that.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
