It was a beautiful morning filled with the promise of change for thousands of Malaysians who came out in full force, and what a day it turned out to be!
FEATURE
Saturday, April 28, 2012 began beautifully. It was the kind of day when a person would wake up wanting to spend it outdoors. The sky was a calming shade of pastel blue, dotted with whispy cotton-candy clouds.
It was the kind of day where a person would want to wash a long-neglected vehicle, mow an overgrown lawn or even run their very first mile. In short, it was a day filled with the promise of accomplishing something, no matter what it was.
For thousands of Malaysians, the pastel-coloured sky was the limit that day as they set out to do their bit for change in Malaysia in a two-hour sit-down protest which was Bersih 3.0 from 2pm-4pm.
Thousands had gathered in various parts of Kuala Lumpur the night before, roughing it out on five-foot ways, at train stations, in car parks, at 24-hour eateries, and in public parks, among others.
What follows is a pictorial feature of what was seen and heard over an eight-hour period on April 28 along Jalan Tun Perak, Dataran Mederka, along the DBKL building, and at the back lanes of Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman:
Around 8.40am, three large busloads of police followed by three more trucks filled with more policemen stopped just at the side of the Central Market.
The handful of people on the street stopped in their tracks to witness the large number of policemen alighting from the buses and trucks.
As they walked towards the Central Market carpark, one policeman was overhead saying, “Masih awal, boleh minum dulu.” (It’s still early, we can have a drink first.)
A short distance from this saw rally-goers milling around in a still uncrowded street, some lounging on makeshift chairs, eating packets of nasi lemak, smoking, beating on bongos and even laying flat on the ground, oblivious to the fracas that would take place in a few hours.
Past this junction and a little further up towards Masjid Jamek and the Jalan Tun Perak junction was a traffic-free road that needed to be seen to be believed – what more on a Saturday in the heart of Kuala Lumpur.
Except for a lone street sweeper who was doing his part to keep things Bersih (clean), it was eerily quiet and desolate, reminscent of a post-apocalypse situation with the people gone, but the buildings intact.
There were more police at the start of Jalan Tun Perak – some standing, others sitting on steps, whiling time away chatting. The conversation overhead seemed surreal to an extent and it could have been had by anyone over Saturday morning breakfast. A group of policemen were heard talking about a wedding one of them had attended and how much it costs to get married these days.
His colleagues good-naturedly jabbed him about his impending nuptials and there were laughs all around. But there was still something ironically sinister to the mirth – like there was an undercurrent of something unsettling although everyone at the time, both the cops and the rally-goers all along Majid Jamek seemed to be in good spirits.
Good-natured hooting from the crowd
By 9am, a considerable number of people had gathered and the street began to look a brighter shade of yellow, and the camaraderie displayed was heartening.
If ever there was an effortless display of the 1Malaysia spirit, it would have been this. As cliched as some might think it is, the sight of the potpurri of races sharing food, talking, laughing and singing along to traditional Malaysian nursery rhymes could leave a lump in one’s throat. No amount of tear gas could have a done a better job.
While things were relatively sedate along Masjid Jamek, the situation further up, at the edge of Dataran Merdeka, was slowly teeming. Slogans were being vociferously shouted as the police stood behind the barrier. A few rally-goers who had their hands on the barrier were promptly told to remove them.
This was what the area surrounding Dataran Merdeka looked like at 9.15am with five hours left before the sit-down protest began.
Back along Jalan Tun Perak, opposite Masjid Jamek, the atmosphere was given a Woodstock-like twist when dreadlocked young men and musicians with bongos, harmonicas and drumsticks made an appearance. Frenetic poem recitations coupled with blood-surging drum beats, was perhaps the first sign of anything exciting – for want of a better word – that was happening in the otherwise sedate morning in this part of the city.
At about 10am, a small group of anti-Lynas protesters came along and expressed their dissatisfaction at the stewardship of the country, asking that the prime minister to be accountable for his decisions; to be more blunt and straight-to-the-point, they didn’t think very much of him as the leader of this country.
By the time it was 11am, Jalan Tun Perak looked like this:
At 11.30am, the crowd had spilled over to the back of a fast-food restaurant. This group of people were moving to the riverbank when a group of policemen ran ahead of them, linked arms and forbade them from going any further. The group retreated without any hassle and made their way back to the the main road in front of Masjid Jamek.It was also around this time that a bigger group of anti-Lynas supporters had converged just outside the Masjid Jamek LRT station, chanting their slogans and posing for photographs, obliging people who kept asking them to pump their fists in the air for added photo effect.
Crowd whipped into a frenzy
In just one hour, it was astounding to see just how many more people had gathered on what was turning out to be a sweltering day.
The crowd was extremely orderly and at 12.20pm, it seemed like Bersih 3.0 Duduk Bantah (sit-down protest) had officially begun when the crowd obediently settled themselves on the tarred road.
At 33 degrees Celcius, the crowd was literally in the hot seat but didn’t show signs of any discomfort, chanting slogans rhythmically and with great gusto.
Then at 1.05pm, loud cheers and applause was heard – it was a thundering of voices that welcomed Karpal Singh who was wheeled past the crowd as he smiled and waved while sitting in his wheelchair.
It was also around this time that this journalist’s smartphone lost service. No pictures could be uploaded, no e-mails sent or received. The BlackBerry Messenger service came to a standstill just as the regular SMSes did. The no-reception situation would continue until 4pm.
By this time also, the crowd had begun to move themselves towards Dataran Merdeka, standing behind razor wires and orange plastic barriers, fronted by white collapsible gates. There was a little melee when an elderly man managed to cross over the blockade claiming sanctuary from the sun. Two police officers cautioned him to to go back but the old man retreated against the wall, telling them that he was feeling nauseated and dizzy.
As one of the policemen approached to take him by the arm, the crowd began booing and some were heared yelling, “Polis jagan sentuh orang!” (The police shouldn’t lay their hands on people). The elderly man eventually regained his composure and was helped across the barrier.
By 1.15pm, the police force just inside the barrier on Dataran Merdeka had doubled. It was also around this time that a police truck makes its way through the crowd along Jalan Tun Razak much to the consternation of the crowd. Shouts of “Duduk! Duduk! Jangan berdiri” (Sit down! Sit down! Don’t stand up) were heard but at the sight of the looming vehicle, they parted to allow it to go through.
By 2.15pm, this journalist had gained entry behind the barrier and from here, the view of the crowd was phenomenal, to say the least. There were continuous shouts of “Bersih!” and “Bukak” (open).
It was only moments after this, at 2.57pm that the barrier suddently gave way without warning and the crowd rushed into Dataran Merderka. This picture was taken seconds after the crowd broke through.At 2.55pm, the crowd was whipped into a frenzy when Anwar Ibrahim appeared on a vehicle. From this journalist’s standpoint, what he said couldn’t be heard, but from his body language, with the movement of the arms and hands which at one point were clapsed together in a act of homage, it looked like he was placating the crowd, trying to get them to sit down.
The police rushed forward, the media ran hapharzardly and in a matter of seconds, tear gas was released. People rushed forward in the ensuing stampede, while more gas was released from under the Masjid Jamek monorail tracks. All hell had broken lose.
Tables turned on cops
People jumped into the fountain, coughing and hacking, some retching and even throwing up. Cries of “Ya Allah” were heard and some who have experienced this before were telling the greenhorns to calm down, wetting their faces with wet wash cloths, giving them water and salt.
This barrage would go on for a distance near the DBKL building. More tear gas was released and the crowd ran towards Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahmah to the backlanes where the bazaar is situated. A kind proprietor offered this journalist refuge as he quickly covered the front of his stall with cloth.
Things were quiet for a bit after 30 minutes or so and with people walking about with some normalcy, it seemed safe to make one’s way to Masjid Jamek. It was only a few metres away from this stall that sudden loud shouts were heard, and the police charged after the crowd telling them to disperse.
More tear gas was released, but not before the crowd turned the tables on the police chasing them to the end of the bazaar stretch. A loud boom, more like a sharp pop, was heard, and someone was overheard saying that the police were firing their guns in the air.
At about 4.45pm, this journalist made her way towards Masjid Jamek station. When asked about transport out, two policemen said that the best way would be to take the train, while a third came forward and said that all train stations had been shut down.
It was then that another melee erupted when a man shouted, “Polis sungguh kejam!” (The police are so heartless), which resulted in another round of tear gas being released. Tear gas was also released into the train station.
The police were extremely reticent when it came to sharing infornation about how to get out of Kuala Lumpur. One police officer said that he cannot reveal the route out and the best thing to do would be to wait it out.
Walking to the back of the Coliseum restaurant, this journalist approached a policeman, telling him that her phone battery had completely expired and that that there was an urgency to get out and file in reports.
It was only then that he pointed towards the direction of Dataran Merdeka saying that one could walk that way and out onto Jalan Parliament. Just as the directions were given, a group of FRU officers charged forward, batons in the air yelling at everyone to leave.
The road at the edge of Dataran Mederka was bereft of anyone except uniformed personnel and as we walked towards Jalan Parliament, more than five truckloads of police were seen moving into the city followed closely by at least another five FRU trucks.
The police and FRU may have been gargantuan in equipment, weapons and whatever else but the spirit displayed by rally-goers made them seem pusillanimous in comparison. By the time it was 5pm, the police were arresting people and at the last count, close to 500 people were arrested, with one fatality and countless injuries suffered in what was to have been a peaceful rally.
Mahatma Gandhi said, “First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.” If there is truth in this saying, where this cause is concerned, it does seem like victory might make a glorious lap or two around Dataran Merdeka soon.
KUALA LUMPUR, April 30 — Unlike Bersih 2.0, I would call myself a coward back then. I am very supportive and committed towards free and fair election but watched live streams at home, like a coward in front of my laptop.
It was about 5.30pm then and the two policemen apprehended me and took away my camera and media tag.
Several lawyers and a medical team were already there providing assistance, including legal advice, first aid and drinks.
During my detention outside the Royal Selangor Club, I was able to negotiate the return of my press tag in exchange for my MyKad. Much later, a plainclothes police officer came to me and returned my camera - but without the memory card.
Later in the evening, as I was being taken away in a bus with the other detainees, I saw more instances of police brutality.
