BOOK EXCERPT My mother sent me to school but I refused to go. I told her, “Our family is not doing so well so I should go to work.” And so I went to work at a coffeeshop in the morning and at the chilli paste factory at night. I was seven years old. There were 14 of us children.

It was not easy at the coffeeshop. My employers slapped me, threw glasses at me, they even threw hot water on me for taking the orders incorrectly or asking the customers to repeat their orders.

They also physically abused and bullied me for walking and working like a girl. The boys and the employer’s children at the shop would kick me and ask me to walk like a man, hit me on my head. I worked at the shop for five years.

I am 20 years old now. I don’t have a home. I live in my trishaw. We have a place to bathe, change our clothes. We are allowed to shower there on Mondays to Wednesdays. And I also eat there. I give some of my earnings to my family, to my mother.

Sometimes, business is not that great. I would not even have money for food. In those situations, I would drink a lot of water and go to sleep hungry. I actually don’t sleep at night so much. I would ride around the city.

The rent for my trishaw is RM2 daily. Business has not been good. I went for my usual rounds this morning. I managed to get three customers. I got RM20 for my rent. I got another RM10 this morning so that makes RM30.

From the moment that I was born, my father did not like me. My face looked more like a baby girl’s face than a baby boy’s face. Because of that, my father initially thought I was a girl. They then looked again at my body and realised that I was a boy. He was like, “Why does he look like a girl?”

They then went to a Hindu priest to check my horoscope and even the priest told my parents that I won’t change and that I was born that way. He told them, “Some people may change as they grow, when they mix around with other men. But ‘he’ is born that way.”

My father has a strong dislike towards people like me – trans people. I believe I am born like this because of karma; because of the way he treated my mother when she was pregnant with me, because of the way he treated people like myself. I have heard many stories of him abusing other sisters, and even my “uncle” who was like me.

Abusive behaviour

My father would hit me, burn me, and injure my head. He did this daily. When he wanted to hit me, he would not hit me using his hands; he would use wires, metal rods to hit me. He has even broken my arms. I was staying with him until I was seven years old. I suffered a lot.

When I was a baby, he would tell my mother, my family, not to give me milk, because of the way I was, feminine. He used to abuse me in so many ways. Because of the abuses, my mother sent me to my uncle’s house.

My uncle was no different. I was only seven, but he did not like the way I walked, talked, the way I dressed. He would say, “Your face looks like a girl’s face”, “Why do you walk like that?” He would hit me and then spread chilli paste all over the bruises.

He would spread chilli paste on open wounds. He used to get drunk and misbehave with me. I couldn’t stand his abusive behaviour so I left his house to be with my mother. I lived with her until I was 15, 16 years old.

When I was 14, my uncle got drunk one night, and he came to my room and started to touch and caress my thighs. He tore my clothes. I told him, “Uncle, you should not do this! You are like my father.” He said, “I cannot help myself. I need to have sex with you.”

He bit me in anger and tortured me. Pushed me around. I pushed him away onto the bed and ran out through the back door. Since then, I stopped staying at my auntie’s house. He once threatened to burn me if I refused to sleep with him.

Before that, he had tried to peep while I showered. I have poured hot water on him, and questioned him, but he was relentless. I had to run away. I went back to my mother to live with her, knowing that things will not be that different.

All of my family members, including my mother, had problems with my mannerisms, and I was abused for being myself. I remember my mother beating me with a broom.

My brothers did not like it when I was living with them. They would always try to start a fight, pick on me, and hurt my feelings. They called me names like “ombote” and “potte”. I did not like it, so I left home and ran away from all the abuses at 15. I told myself that it is much better to sleep on the streets than to put up with their insults.

When girls look at me and smile and flirt, I used to get very angry. It was like that for a long time. I still feel the same way. When I look at girls, I only think of them as friends or sisters, nothing more than that. I have never thought of them as girlfriends. Nothing like that. I still feel that way.

I was born physically as a male but my emotions, my style is more like a woman. Even until today. I believe that I am a woman and I live my life as a woman. I have never thought of myself as a boy at all. When I saw a boy, I would imagine my life with him. That was when I was 14 years old. At the age of 16, I thought I should have my own life and I started dating a boy.

A lot braver now

But in my experience, observing men who date people like me, they would ask us to go earn money for them. My current boyfriend, he is not like that. He would give money for my daily expenses. He would buy me clothes and food. He takes care of me.

But I have been beaten up by my boyfriend. When I go to the temple, I would usually wear the Punjabi suit, and the boys would laugh and come up to talk to me and say hello, and they would also ask if they can get my phone number.

By that time, my boyfriend will come and he will be like, “Let me give that to you. Let me show you.” He will show. He would beat me up. I have been admitted to hospital because of his beatings.

Even women get beaten up and live with their husbands so it is the same for me as well. In the beginning, I would just argue. As time passed, I have told him that I would like to divorce him. I don’t want to be in this relationship any more. So my boyfriend would cut himself for me.

I would just observe. I would just let him be, but then, because I love him, I would attend to him and ask him to cut deeper the next time. He would say, “I thought you were going to say something else.”

But I have been beaten before. My mother, my father, my brother, my employer, my employer’s son, I have been hit a lot. But I am a lot braver now. So now, when people say something about me, I would hit them before they hit me.

If you ask people now, they call me the trishaw girl. If people say anything about me, I would get very angry. They say as you grow older, you become stronger. But when I become stressed or worried, I cut myself like this.

I would think, “Why am I like this? Why is my life like this? Am I living in hell or on earth?” I would cut myself. But it would not hurt that day. The next day when I feel better, my hand would hurt. My friends would ask me, “Why do you do that to yourself?”

They would assure me that my life will change. According to my horoscope, it says that my life will be better after I turn 20. I don’t believe in all that. I only believe in myself. I have so many desires and wishes. Others like me are able to dress nicely. I also wish to live like that and dress nicely.

I also want to go to Bangkok to get my surgery done. While I wish to do that, I cannot afford it. There are also people like myself who are rich and well off. But I also don’t get any help from them. No one helps me.

In just three years, I have been arrested 36 times for alleged solicitation of sex and drug use, and I have been imprisoned. I was first arrested when I was 17 years old. I was with a group of friends. We were all in our sexy clothes and we were on the way to the pub to have a good time and dance.

As we were walking to the pub, we were arrested. I was charged with soliciting and for not having my identification card with me. I had run away from home at the time, and had left my identification card at home. The court pardoned me. The second time I was arrested, the police officers let me go.

Shaved, bullied, tormented

The third time I was arrested, I was sentenced to prison for eight months. When I called home, my siblings told my mother, “It is okay, let him be. Let him learn his lesson.” In prison, they shaved my head, bullied me, humiliated and tormented me.

I was made to run for the amusement of the other inmates, sometimes with the flag wrapped around me and other trans people like me. Before the prison officers shaved my head and the other trans women, they made us run from a distance to the flagpole, to a song by Saroja Devi, an old Indian actress.

They made us stand under the hot sun, and picked flowers to place in our hair to see if we looked pretty. While someone was cutting my hair, there was another guy who pretended to take photographs of me.

They twisted my hands and asked me, “Are you a faggot? Are you a sissy?” Then, they used a long cane to hit our heads, us trans people. During meal times, they would knock on our heads, and tell us to walk like a man.

I usually would not look at the men; I would walk with my head facing downward; they would hit me for walking with my head down. They would try to correct the way I walked.

The other inmates bullied us; they asked us vulgar questions and insulted us. We were separated from the men. However, that did not mean we were safe. The prison officers would scare me by saying, “We will put you in the cells with the boys.”

Insults and abuse came from the wardens too. They asked me, “How about if I were to come to your cell? There are only two of you there. Can I do you?” They talked to us in a very vulgar manner.

After two weeks, my mother posted the bail of RM800, and I was released. I was 17 years old. But, I suffered for those two weeks. As I was released, the police officer that escorted me to court asked me, “Where will you be going now that you are released? Where are you going to sleep? Do you need company?”

This happened in court. The officer who handcuffed me and brought me to court said that to me. He asked me, “Should I come along?” I told him, “Sir, are you aware that you are in your uniform? How can you even say such things? Do you think that we do not know the law?

“We are not educated, but we know the law. Even if I am poor, even if I beg for money, I live with dignity; I do not need to sleep with someone for a living. That’s not my life. I can work hard. Even if I was born this way, I was born with good hands and legs.

“I can work. You should just do your duty. If you want to, there are so many other people who do sex work. Go to them. When you look at me, don’t I look like your daughter? Would you do this to your daughter?” He said, “You will come again. We will see then.”

No money, no food

I have looked for customers, for sex work. Two or three times when I was very hungry. I had no money, no food. The first time, I was very afraid. I was 15. My heart would beat faster and my body would shake. I wondered what they would do to me. I didn’t know what to do.

I only know the romance part of it but I didn’t know about sex. I was afraid of the things that they might do to me. I was also afraid if I might get pregnant. If I got pregnant, what would people say? Those will be things that will be going through in my head.

My friends would tell me not to worry. When I go to the customer’s room, they will pay the cash upfront. Once they start foreplay, I would tell them that I am afraid. I would tell them that I am not used to this and I would walk away. I would return their money.

I would give them the money and tell them that I am leaving. Even when they hugged me, I would get very anxious. So then the customers would tell me to keep the money because I am afraid.

Some people would scold me. They would tell me, “Why did you take the money?” I would apologise and return the money and walk away. Some people would give me the money because they sympathised and they know that I am afraid.

They would tell me, “You are not experienced” and give me the money anyway. I would tell them that I am not, and explain that I am only doing it for fun. In my life, I have only had the husband-wife relationship with my husband.

I am also a bit scared even with my husband. Because not all men are the same. They would go with women and they would also use people like me. I would also ask my husband sometimes if he has gone to someone else.

But he is not that sort of person as well. After he was cheated by his ex-girlfriend, he has only been with me.

This is just one of the many stories featured in 'Mata Hati Kita - The Eyes of Our Hearts' edited by Angela M Kuga Thas and Jac SM Kee, a collection which invites readers to witness the lives of lesbians, bisexual women and trans people and which speaks of our shared struggles of being human, of loving, of living for oneself and of living for others.

'Mata Hati Kita' can be purchased at Gerakbudaya's PJ bookstore, online at www.gerakbudaya.com and is soon to be released in eBook format at www.gerakbudayaebooks.com.