By Kasthuri Patto
What my father, P. Patto, taught me in my 15 years being his daughter and Malaysians alike was what it’s like to love your country.
Today, 12 July would be the 21st year of the passing of my father. 21 years have passed and the void left behind hits hard not only my mother, my sister and my family but all his old friends, party cadres, supporters and Malaysians alike, from all walks of life.
It was a Wednesday morning that he left us so suddenly. The news hit many Malaysian comrades, parliamentarians, statesmen, leaders of nations and also dear members of civil society.
Condolence messages poured in from all over the world via phone calls, letters, condolence cards and bouquets of flowers and telegrams.
I sat in utter shock.
My father, P. Patto, a towering principled man, a giant in defending human rights, a tireless fighter for the oppressed, the marginalized, and the down-trodden, a man with a hearty laugh and a huge appetite for living life to the fullest, was no more. No more warm hugs, no more comforting reassuring voice, no more “papa”.
At the tender age of 15, my sister was 13, it was a horrible time to lose our father.
Thousands of Malaysians from all walks of life, of every skin colour, race and religion came to pay their last respects to their comrade and openly cried when their good friend, brother, comrade, leader had suddenly left them.
Some scolded him for not taking care of himself and for throwing himself into his work, all for a better Malaysia.
Some, through tears, shared their last moments with him over coffee, over their last banana leaf lunch with him, how they slept on the floor in an office in Sabah, how he stayed with them in their homes and how he instantly became like one of their family members.
It pained me so much on the thought of my life without my knight in shining armour. I believe, with all my heart, that on that day, Malaysians came together as one, putting political ideologies aside, race, religion and skin colour to mourn the passing of my father.
Malaysia had lost a leader who put the people’s rights, needs, wants and dreams before his own.
P. Patto was a man whom, I have seen in photos, standing on a table at a coffee shop in Lawan Kuda, Kopisan in Gopeng rallying a crowd in a ‘ceramah’ consisting of Chinese and Indian uncles and aunties. They clapped and cheered him on as he poked fun at MCA, MIC and Umno leaders and their excessive wealth, abuse of power, corruption and torrential abuse of human rights.
I was also amazed by pictures of my father with leaders and statesmen in Geneva, Switzerland. He boldly spoke on the massive crackdown on freedom of speech, assembly, press and religion, amongst others.
On one occasion, he was greeted by Special Branch officers upon arrival in a European country, only to be bundled back on the next flight to Malaysia.
I have heard numerous, wonderful stories from Islamic religious leaders on how my father had the highest respect for all people. He embraced the diversity of these cultures, including one so fondly shared when my father lightly tapped his forehead, as would any Malay person, indicating bad news.
They were surprised that an Indian man from a party that was poisonously painted as being anti-Malay and anti-Islam, portrayed respect, solidarity and togetherness with his Malay friends, comrades and supporters.
He spoke near perfect Cantonese, Mandarin and Hokkien and peppered his fiery speeches on the decay and rot of leadership under Umno/Barisan Nasional (BN), and under the fourth Prime Minister at that time.
Fishermen, farmers, teachers and businessmen alike would travel far to attend his rallies.
He opened the eyes of the Indian community in Malaysia, who idolised the then President of MIC, on the gross mismanagement of the people’s money – poor people’s money in the mammoth MAIKA scandal that has yet to see the light of day.
He was truly a Malaysian leader.
My father served 18 months, 60 days of solitary confinement in the IPD Perak Police Station in Ipoh and the remaining 16 months in Kem Tahanan Perlindungan Kamunting in Taiping under the Internal Security Act “Operasi Lalang” dragnet in 1987. It was not for theft, robbery, murder or for any abuse of public funds or power.
He was state assemblyman and Member of Parliament.
He was detained for doctored, false, malicious lies concocted by then Prime Minister and Home Minister Mahathir Mohamad. He, alongside many other leaders, were deemed a threat to national security.
He gave 18 months of his life behind bars, away from his wife and two daughters, away from his whole family, away from his party cadres, comrades, friends and supporters for valiantly fighting for what was right.
He was following his conscience and principles and fighting for a Malaysian Malaysia where everyone, regardless of skin colour, race, religion, gender, language, age and political ideology would be treated equally and with respect under the Malaysian sun.
Fast forward to 2013, during my campaign in the 13th General Election when I contested in Batu Kawan, Penang. Many of my father’s dear friends, Malays, Sikhs and other Indians, Chinese, men and women, came forward with tears in their eyes saying they were so happy to see the name ‘PATTO’ re-emerging after such a long time.
They embraced me and said they wished that my father was around today, in this time, in such a tumultuous political climate. They even chuckled, imagining the kind of insults, jokes and most importantly the intelligent arguments that would rain down on BN in the state assembly sittings, and in the Dewan Rakyat.
I have been asked “Can you speak like your father?”
To which I humbly reply “Can anyone speak like P. Patto?”
My father would have wanted a Malaysian Malaysia that was free from racism, bigotry, corruption, scandals, inequality and cruelty.
One may call him an idealist. I would rather follow the dreams of an idealist to strive relentlessly to achieve what I can than be a pessimist who scoffs at idealism. He hated race-based political parties and hated more the venom it spews.
P. Patto would want Malaysians, from all walks of life to come together, without fear or favour to reject and to continuously fight a government built upon the foundation of tyranny, injustice, hatred, discrimination and favouritism.
He died doing what he dedicated his life for. A Malaysian Malaysia, for our children, so that they, with their heads held high can live together with dignity, love and courage.
Malaysia mourns your passing today. Till we meet again, dear Papa.
Kasthuri Patto is MP for Batu Kawan.
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