In the rarefied atmosphere of political commentary, commentators are swamped by the unfolding drama on the national stage. They tend to react to current events highlighted by the press, pass judgement on larger-than-life personalities of national importance, and conduct their discourse in terms of haughty principles.

The national discourse may be a delusion in itself. Sweeping statement of noble earth-shaking principles may not reflect the forces that affect the destiny of voiceless and marginalised citizens. The national life is awfully complex.

The best way to narrate the story of the reality of individuals as both an antidote and a reflection of this general drama is probably literature. Unfortunately, literature in Malaysia has been over-compartmentalised by the racial consciousness, and true creativity of aesthetics has been repressed by a primitive political regime obsessed with ultra-sensitive nerves.

Therefore, the political commentator is compelled at times to examine this illusive business called national life at the level of the individuals and their concretely-lived lives.

Here, one has to be mindful of the danger that one's writing tends to be an extension of one's ego. Self-expression is fine, as long as there is anything worthy of expression in the self. Otherwise, the writer had better adopt the "point of view" of a disinterested anonymous student of human nature, wearing the "veil of ignorance" invented by John Rawls. On this journey of discovering hidden truths, one's only companion is compassion and a touch of ultimate concern.

Having fortified myself thus, I will now try my best to narrate the stories of the young man and the not so young lady.

When the young man Bujang came to me both for crying on my slender shoulder and for advice, he was at the lowest point of his life.

He had taken a loan from Bank Islam to buy a small car in Kuching, hoping to help his job of servicing customers with putting up canopies.

Father's death

Promises of adequate returns from his employer did not materialise, and soon he was in financial trouble. After a year or so, he had to quit this job, and look for alternative ways of making a living. A stint at hawking food failed in the constricted market place in Kuching. A cousin offered him a job selling shoes in his shop for the grand sum of RM200 a month.

Then he knew he had to go to KL. He had worked in an electronics factory in Bangi once, for quite a number of years in fact. His performance was so good that he was sent to Japan for training. He managed to save a princely sum.

But the death of his old father five years ago changed everything. His father was a retired policeman, and so his widowed mother received his meagre derivative pension of a very few hundred ringgit a month.

At 29, Bujang is the eldest male in the family, and he felt responsible for the task of looking after his ageing mother, and his two younger siblings who were still in school. Hence, his ill advised move back to Sarawak from KL a few years ago in the first place.

Unfortunately, the economy of Sarawak is indeed many decades behind the urban centres in Peninsular Malaysia. The salaries in Kuching city is only a fraction of that in KL, and no self-respecting city dwellers in the nation's capital will work for such slave wages.

Realising this, Bujang finally returned to KL for a better job. This single young man of Melanau/Malay/Iban lineage was brought up in a kampong in Balai Ringin, a rural settlement 75 miles outside Kuching City. Due to parental ignorance, He had dropped out of school after finishing his PMR.

Fortunately, he possesses the unusual gift rare among young people nowadays of willing to work at any job for no-matter-how-long the hours. He does not smoke or drink, has never taken any drugs, has stayed away from dating for fear of the financial burden of marriage and children, and never lepak at shopping malls. His only concession to distraction during his leisure hours is listening to English oldies on his cheap transistor radio.

Mere basic salary

He would be what one may call a perfect worker in the competitive exploitative labour market in the Klang valley.

Finally, he found his way into a restaurant in Sunway Lagoon, working as a waiter. His Chinese employer pays him a basic salary of RM350 per month, plus an allowance based on a mysterious point system. This point system is apparently based on sales, and can fluctuate from month to month.

I suspect that in this way, the employers can avoid paying his rightful EPF and Socso contributions. I am told that this sort of salary arrangement is quite common in the F and B industry in the Klang Valley, even among five-star establishments. I wish politicians would look into this matter.

In any case, in the Klang valley at least, as far as the labour market is concerned, and no matter how much employers complain about how hard it is to get good help, it is still an employers' market. If Malaysians do not like to work for such low wages, there are always millions of legal and illegal migrant workers grabbing the vacancies.

So Bujang makes about RM800 on the average every month. He sends RM150 back to his mother in Kuching, and lives on the balance, by not buying anything, and eating Maggie Mee as his principle diet.

After all, he still has to pay the rent, and his poor income forces him to share a dilapidated crowded flat with a few co-workers. Tension is high in his living quarters. He literally lives from hand to mouth every month.

Then he received a letter from a law firm representing Bank Islam in Kuching. He had defaulted on repayment to the bank for a few months. The bank had repossessed his car, and auctioned it off. The bank is now demanding him to settle the difference between the auction price of his former car and the rest of the original loan that he took at the time of purchase. He must settle the sum of over RM17,000 or else!

Bujang was devastated, depressed, ashamed, stressed beyond measure, and so were the other members of the family. He is a vaguely religious Muslim, and so he would not contemplate suicide. When he approached me, he was ready to be declared bankrupt and face all the consequences.

I found him a kind lawyer in Kuching, just in case. There was good news. A law that was passed a few years ago stipulates that nobody can be sued for bankruptcy for any debt that is less than RM30, 000. That is a good law. Bujang's fear that had haunted him for many months had disappeared. I also advised him not to ignore that stream of intimidating demand letters from the bank's lawyer. He had to approach the bank again to negotiate a rescheduling of payment for his loan.

He took my advice. The bank had offered him a deal that he can barely live with - he must repay RM150 per month for the next 25 years for a car that he no longer possess and use.

How has the NEP benefited them?

I advised him about getting another job that pays better wages. Bujang told me he would tough it out for a little longer. He hates job hopping, he said. Besides, he does want to learn all about the F & B trade, in the hope that, one day, he will own his own restaurant.

Whenever the airwaves in our Malaysian sky are filled with a tempest of racial polemics and rhetoric, I always think of Bujang. I wonder. How many young Malay men and women like Bujang are there, living a decent life on subsistence wages in the cities and towns, struggling at the bottom of the economic heap at the mercy of the entire capitalistic machinery?

I see them everywhere of course, in the factories, in the 7-11 stores, in the retail trade, in bars and restaurants. What kind of future holds for them, especially if they succumb to their cultural and social ethos, and marry at a very young age? Having thus married, they will have many children, for in the harsh reality of working life, they can always rejoice in their family as the last refuge of happiness.

However, with their meagre income, even if both husband and wife go out working, their children will find it hard to go for higher education. When they grow up, these children will probably join the burgeoning under-class of unskilled workers, continuing the foot-steps of their parents.

At the end of the day, how has the NEP benefited them? In what way have all those Malay based political parties been relevant to their lives?

To be continued next week