Glad and disgusted. And I’m not talking about the results, but rather of what I found out during the elections and after the results were announced.
First, to the positive aspects of this election. People have been ranting how disappointed they are with the election results especially in Sabah, but I’m not. Granted, I was expecting three or four upsets where the constituents would fall into the opposition parties’ hands, but that didn’t happen. I’m glad the ones I’ve voted for and hoped to stay in office, did stay. And since the National Front still holds a simple majority and the federal cabinet line-up has not been announced, Sabahans should instead focus on the expectation that more of our very own MPs will be elected as Ministers in proper federal ministries, instead of being shoved as Ministers in the Prime Minister’s Department junk. So, to our beloved Prime Minister, remember what Sabah has done for you and your BN. We are one of the three biggest contributors to your recent win. The Sabahans, even with our rich resources, have been putting up with the Federal government’s antics of taking away the state’s revenue for the sake of other states, stunting Sabah’s growth. This time, give us back the revenues and fundings we deserve, and put our people into the proper place in power. Otherwise… well, you know what’s coming.
Having said that, let’s look at the disgusting reality of the recent election. I will not name names here due to security reasons, otherwise these people will lose their jobs, but I’ll try to make this as hurtless as possible. Yes, folks, there is such a thing as phantom voters, but not in the way you would think. Votes do not appear in ballot boxes by magic, and these ballot forms are being filled by real people, not ghosts. Unfortunately, these “people” may not be the people they claim to be in their MyKad identification cards (or ICs as we call them). And all this happened in the polling station area in Sabah famous for controversies surrounding phantom voters, where my sources tell me that at least 50% of them could potentially be in that group.
Take, for example, this fellow bearing the IC number 80012312xxxx (the year is real but the rest of the numbers are fictional). Now, all Malaysians know that the first six digits corresponds to the MyKad’s owner’s date of birth. But how would you react if the bearer of the MyKad, who’s suppose to be 28 years old on voting day, turned up like a fifty year-old with a cane (tongkat)? Or, someone who’s IC number is 30060112xxxx, who’s suppose to be almost 70 years old, turned up looking like a healthy young 30 year old?
Here’s the predicament — the Election Commission and the officials elected only has the right to check three things when it comes to the voter, 1) that the voter’s face matches the picture in the MyKad, 2) that the name matches the voting registry letter by letter, and 3) that the IC number matches the voting registry number by number. They don’t have the power to stop a person from voting simply because one looks too young or too old than what you’d expect through their ICs. I won’t even go into those voters who use IC receipts instead of their ICs, how “real” those receipts look like.
So if you want to guess where the potential corruption could happen, go ahead, I won’t do the guessing for you. I’m just reporting the reality of the situation. Sad but true. And the ones at risk are the ones who are forced to observe or report this matter. Including myself.
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Insomnia is hitting me pretty hard this past couple of nights, which is why I FINALLY got the chance to blog! I’ve been overwhelmed with some major life decisions that need to be dealt with, mostly health-wise (like, should I do that surgery?). I was still blogging once in a while for the sake of money (you know what I’m talking about), but mostly I’m focusing on recently teaching my 7-year old son to blog as well if he ever wants that expensive toy and the piano classes he’s been pestering me about 
You’ll be seeing a lot of him as a contributor in the Blog of Rugrats, as soon as I have the time to approve his two-line posts. On top of my 15-month old clingy son trying to get his hands on my computer, life is just getting more hectic. I miss blogging so much that I’d have occasional dreams about freely sitting in front my computer doing nothing but blog.
