Walkway

[As a Malaysian student, Calvin just would like to dedicate this essay to Tunku Abdul Rahman for stepping forth to break free Malaya "from the shackle of colonisation" (Mr Al, my Malaysian Studies lecturer's favourite phrase) ... Not intimidating all my KBU friends who are taking IELTS, but hope this essay brings you back to the first day when it all started...]

In the quietness of dawn, I perceived footsteps treading on the stiff cold Walkway, gradually building to forte. There was the rushing of people, of excitement, of anticipation, and the seats were swiftly filled. Surrealistic. Sounds coming from nowhere yet cannot be dismissed by the ear. I struggled down through the Walkway. It was not an easy journey to endure, to be able to walk to the podium, standing beside Swettenham and the Yang-Dipertuan Negeri Sembilan.

It all started with the fall of the Empire, with the invading flotilla of Albuquerque. August twenty-fourth was the starting day of Western colonialism and the day where our history was almost carbonized in that conflagration. And perpetually for almost half a millennium, the Land was tossed like a wave in the Straits, deprived and decoyed as new Landlords come and go. Starting with those who initiated the Age of Discovery, then the Land of the Windmill, those who take orders from the Queen, the People of the Rising Sun and back again to the Great United Kingdom. The path to freedom was painted by the blood of martyrs. Dato' Maharaja Lela, Tok Janggut, Rentap, Mat Salleh, Dato Bahaman and many others. It was the gallantry of the past heroes which sparked the passion for freedom. Together, they share a common vision, a common passion, in unity. And unity is what allowed me to travel to London and met with Lord Lennox Boyd, to get the signature of a pen stroke which signify the quietus of colonialism.

The warm welcome upon the announcement of the greatest news was still fresh in mind as I struggled down this Walkway. The whole nation was there, a phalanx crowd eagerly anticipating for the declaration. Standing in front of the multitude, finally, a compelling cry broke through the stadium. FREEDOM I shouted seven times, loud and clear, conveyed the completeness, true F-R-E-E-D-O-M, not because of the seven letters of the word but full freedom from the hands of the West! Coming down was the pride of Union Jack, rising upwards was the Stripes of Glory. Everyone just stood in awe and admiration. It was the halcyon experience never to be forgotten by the nation and its people.

We cannot just stand in one place and stay there motionless forever. We need to walk forward. I need to walk forward. Going down the Walkway was not easy, but going up the Walkway was harder still. I struggled when our dear brother confronted us, accusing us the fighters for freedom as neo-colonists. He shared the same root as us, speaking the same language yet why must they reject and even attacked us. Why? Manila broke the close diplomatic ties formed so many years at the sound of declaring ourselves as a new nation. Isn't Cobbold's report clearly states that the ethnics standing below the shadow of the great Mount Kinabalu had agreed to join us? The wonderful island in the south became an excruciating pain when it slowly turned its back on us, piercing our very heart with its thorn, tearing the Tebrau Straits apart. Why can't they acknowledge the rights of the natives?

The perplexities of 'why's were ever present and at times seemed impossible to resolve. However, endurance proved itself. I have learned that we cannot walk away but walk a way. That is the essence of the Walkway. Up on the Walkway, I see the Twins standing from afar, holding hands, bridging communities. Up in the sky was an airplane soaring high in stratosphere, proudly displaying the name of our nation to the eyes of the world. Somewhere, I heard people of different colours, different cultures, and different languages, gathered together in a mamak stall, enjoying the conversation, sharing the unity. Faintly, I heard the sound of children playing around, together with the twitter of nature and flow of pellucid brooks, composed an orchestra of wonderful music parallel to those of the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra.

I looked forward of the Walkway, it was full of opportunities waiting to be explored, the day was shining with full lustre, as if pathways of gold awaits us. In my deep heart core, I still can hear the echoing of people's esprit de corps to protect, to preserve and to build the freedom we so harshly went through to get. Can you hear it too?

Just in case you are INTOXICATED WITH THE EXUBERANCE OF MY VERBOSITY...lol
[This story is written from Tunku Abdul Rahman’s perspective. Tunku after the many years of the declaration of independence, went back to the Independence Stadium to recall the memories the nation treasured. He was walking down the walkway to the podium where he once stood and went up the walkway again. While he was walking, he likened the walkway to the journey of his life. The Walkway as it is always capitalized, refers to the journey of our nation as well. In the end, he calls for the generation now who reads his essay to take up his call to preserve the nation’s independence.]