As an 18-year-old a lifetime ago, I thought Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia was the end of it. The ending. Not quite death of course, but the emphasis placed on the national examination was so great that it felt like a be-all and end-all. A terminal. Yes, there was life afterward, but that exam determined everything. Do well, and you would get to go to a good school (if you are really lucky, then you would get to go to a really great school across oceans) with some kind of scholarship. Do badly, you would be destined to mediocrity.
I did well, but I quickly learned SPM was not the last station. I went to a good school with scholarship and all, but it was not smooth sailing. University life was hard, even as I was privileged to have experienced it. I learned I was wrong, and I learned something new: life is a series of challenges. A celebration might be appropriate for surmounting each challenge, but there will always be another barrier, sooner or later.
I learned it the physical way when I unwisely went on a major hiking trip to Yosemite during my junior year. Ill-prepared, I came down the Tuolumne Canyon, all the way down to the river at the bottom to soak my feet in cool flowing mountain water. It was a long canyon 20, 30, 40 miles in length, with rugged terrain, high cliff on both sides, and the Milky Way bright up in the sky. No artificial light, no vehicle, no phone reception. The destination was upriver. Each climb to a local peak only revealed a steeper trail beyond. It was a cascade of falls that seemed to never end. If ever I entertained of idea of suicide seriously, it was there. I wanted to give up and jump down. The fatigue was too much. It felt hopeless. But somehow, I made it, with assistance of two strangers near the very top. After a hearty meal, I zoomed to Los Angeles and returned to Ann Arbor to spend my summer more banally by waking up late and play computer games all the time, inter-spaced with anime-watching and soccer games, while waiting download of large files to complete.
The jailing of Najib Razak feels a little bit like SPM, or one of those falls in that Tuolumne cascade. It was a journey of roughly 10 years, which, a huge chunk of it spent in despair and hopelessness. My little part in the whole saga seemed meaningless. The 2018 election came, and there was euphoria, but hopes were dashed soon enough. It was a miracle Najib was found guilty four years later, and his appeal dismissed. And let us not kid ourselves, he could have escaped his deserved fate if he had pushed the political button harder. Government fell twice, partly because of Najib, and Zahid, who were desperate to outsmart the system.
But the day after, life feels empty. There is a slight hopefulness, but that is it. I take it as a reminder that life is a series of cascades. A series of challenges.
The system works this time, but only because we worked to make it work, and then be let to work. There are too many times when the system has been made to succumb to corruption. Never forget that. Institutions are not automatic machines. It has to be manned (and womanned?) by good people. And Najib still has his avenues to escape his punishment.
And it is not just him who is corrupt. His collaborators are still out there, corrupting our society still.
The long struggle is the reason why, the victory yesterday, feels hollow so soon. There is still a long way to go, mountains to scale.
