Former New Zealand prime minister Norman Kirk once said that people don’t want much. They just want someone to love, somewhere to live, somewhere to work and something to hope for.

I first heard this profound quote when I arrived to study in the country. It sticks so vividly in my mind because it represents all the things I’ve longed for ever since I was a child - a sense of dignity and a sense of stability.

You see, my journey has been a harrowing one. I will say this outright: I’m gay. I’ve always known I was gay. I knew it since I was five years old. The problem was, everyone else insisted on treating my sexuality as a disease that needed to be cured. My parents, my teachers, my friends - all of them refused to accept me for who I am.

I’ve been bullied, harassed, harangued.

My childhood and teenage years were traumatic.

I’ve practised self-harm and contemplated suicide.

Somehow, though, I managed to carry on. I managed to survive. I stubbornly believed that there had to be something better for me out there.

It was only when I arrived in New Zealand for my further studies that I began to savour my humanity. I spent four years in university, and that was the happiest and most fulfilling time of my life.

I found Kiwis to be incredibly warm and kind. They didn’t judge. They didn’t preach. Rather, they embraced me without prejudice. So I knew I had found a sense of belonging. This was a society where honesty and integrity was upheld. Everyone was treated and equally.

When I graduated in 2008, I was offered a job and given the chance to remain in New Zealand. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. I seriously considered it.

However, around that time, Pakatan has just created a political tsunami in Malaysia, preventing Barisan from attaining a two-thirds majority.

As a lesbian, gay, bisexual and transsexual (LGBT) Malaysian, I was delighted. My patriotic feelings swelled. I had dreams of social justice. This is why I made the fateful decision leave New Zealand and return to Malaysia.

Once I got back, I began to actively get involved in the NGO scene. I badly wanted to serve my country. I wanted to introduce everyone to the social justice that I had encountered in New Zealand.

I was giddy with enthusiasm.

I donated tens of thousands of ringgit to the Pakatan cause.

I spent so much energy and time rushing from one event to the other.

Harsh reality sets in

Seven years on, however, the harsh reality has set in for me. I have come to the sad realisation that I was just too young and idealistic. It now appears that social justice just doesn’t work in Malaysia, and those who claim to champion it are hypocritical at best.

It’s a fact that the LGBT community suffers high rates of depression, self-harm and joblessness. Solving this issue is the greatest civil rights battle of our time. And, yet, everywhere I turn, Pakatan and its affiliates continue to treat us as outcasts and refuses to acknowledge our presence.

Now, before you think that I’m just a naysayer, let me be clear: I marched at the last two Bersih rallies. During the one held in 2012, I was hit with tear gas, and during the wild stampede, I actually fell and cracked my forehead open against the pavement.

Yes, I have bled for my efforts.

I still have the scars to show for it.

No one can say that I haven’t sacrificed and given my all.

So trust me when I say that I have observed Bersih up close, and I have seen how manipulative and two-faced its organisers can be. They dangle carrots in front of you. They promise you just enough to get you emotionally worked up. You then feel obligated to pledge your allegiance to them.

However, when push comes to shove, they blatantly refuse to show you any kind of comradeship in return. This is especially true if you happen to be an LGBT person.

All you get are vague promises and zero commitment.

So what if clean and fair elections are held? So what if Pakatan seizes power on the federal level? Will they treat the LGBT community fairly? Will they protect us from hate crimes? Will they push for marriage equality?

Judging from my experience with Bersih’s actions and rhetoric, all of that seems pretty dang remote. Over and over again, the organisers have warned me to keep silent and not talk about the LGBT struggle. Why? Because they are afraid that the issue will scare off other Malaysians who are conservative and religious.

Well, really?

Bersih preaches about democracy. In fact, they preach about it until they are blue in the face. And yet they refuse to accept democracy within their own ranks. They stifle free speech and honest expression. They blacklist those who disagree with them.

Enough is enough

Personally, I believe that enough is enough.

At the moment, I’m currently packing my bags. I’m finalising plans to leave Malaysia for good. You see, New Zealand became the first country in Asia-Pacific to legalise gay marriage in 2013. Many LGBT people from all across the region are now heading there to solemnise their vows. My partner and I will be among them.

Yes, what a progressive and fantastic country!

In the words of Norman Kirk, people don’t ask for much. They just want someone to love, somewhere to live, somewhere to work and something to hope for.

As it stands, Bersih doesn’t think I should be with the one I love. Nor should I have anything to hope for in my future. I disagree with their self-righteous stance. I am a living and breathing human being, and I deserve to have a chance at achieving a happy life.

So, no, I most definitely won’t be marching at Bersih 4. At the moment, I don’t believe they deserve my support. Not unless they take immediate steps to purge the corruption within their ranks, open themselves up to free and fair debate, then adopt a fair-minded approach to marriage equality.

The plight and suffering of the LGBT minority should not be ignored by Bersih.