feature

Three years after the Nipah viral outbreak that killed 106 people and nearly crippled a RM1.5 billion pig-farming industry, the nightmare continues for the Bukit Pelanduk community who had bore the brunt of the tragedy.

Today, the once thriving Bukit Pelanduk, then the biggest pig-rearing centre in South East Asia, has become a ghost town. Since its main economic activity has been prohibited by the government following the deadly outbreak, supplementary shops and services, such the only petrol station in the area, have shut their doors, too.

With no stable income and an indifferent support from the state, the 2,000 ex-pig farmers and their families are facing an uncertain future.

"We can 'tie' our stomachs (make do with less). But our children can't. They need to go to school and study," lamented Eee Kong Poh, 40, who has five school-going children.

Eee ( second from left ) is one of the 40-odd widows in Bukit Pelanduk who lost their husbands to the viral infection. She used to work as a clerk in a nearby feedmill factory before it was closed due to the outbreak.

Jobs are hard to come by in the village, especially for people her age. "Companies don't hire people as old as your auntie. They only hire those in their 20s," said Ee.

Though paid RM25,000 from the MCA JE Humanitarian Fund, she said, "What's RM25,000 when our husbands have passed away?

"We have been using our savings and the compensation received. Now, they're almost finished."

Her eldest child, who is studying in the Tunku Abdul Rahman College in Kuala Lumpur, is working part-time to ease her financial burden.

"My second child who is in Form Three is also working part-time in a poultry farm," she said.

Bungalow houses

Another widow who only wish to be identified as Gan, is coping by working as a general worker in a poultry farm.

"While you're sleeping in the middle of the night, I'm working," she said.

Though assistance from the Welfare Department would not help much as it only amounted to RM20 per child every month, she has applied for it anyway. She has not heard from the department after an interview with them.

"I hear others say their applications were rejected because their houses looked like they belonged to well-off families," she said, referring to the brick bungalow houses that most pig-farming families live in.

Gan says their properties are not a measure of how well they are doing now.

"Our brick house was built 18 years ago when my husband was still alive," the 50-year-old widow said of her property.

At a coffee shop along the main road in the main town area, a group of farmers gather to relate their stories and state their desire. They want to return to do what they did best - pig-farming.

Jobs were hard to come by, they say. What's more, they are old and uneducated, and find learning new skills hard.

"We only want our livelihood back," one former pig farmer said. "We're sitting here all day. We're 40 and 50 years old. Which factory wants to hire us?"

Right now, they are forced to rely on their savings and their children's money, doing odd-jobs for more income.

Failed ventures

This was a far cry from the days before the outbreak. Most of the pig farmers then had a sizeable income. This was especially true for those who operated large farms and exported pork for the Singaporean market. It was not uncommon to see some of them driving expensive cars and living in big houses.

Former pig-farmer Kau Teck Long, 54, says without the pig-farming industry, everyone in Bukit Pelanduk is facing hardship as they have no jobs.

"It's important for the farms to be revived," he said, adding that those who dabbled in other activities, such as fish farming, failed.

Also finding it tough are some younger ex-farmers from Site C, which has been degazetted as a pig farming area although not a single case of Nipah infection was reported there.

Guo Meng Sun, 36, went to Singapore in search of a job but was forced to return as he did not have the required qualifications.

"They need at least Form Five. But we only have Form Three," said Guo, who is willing to take on any job he could find.

"It's very hard to find job nowadays. The economy is very bad," he said.

Like Guo, Lau Shan Jye, 29, who is working as a lorry driver, said he will also do any job he can find.

"But I'm afraid that I cannot even find any job," he said.

Because of lack of prospects and jobs in the village, the population has decreased, Lau says.

"There are fewer people here now. They only come back during weekends," he said.

Political support

One former pig farmer turned businessman is not taking things lying down but is actively involved in the struggle for better compensation for the farmers.

Vice-president of the Nipah Virus Disaster Rescue and Liaison Committee, PC Lai said MCA President Dr Ling Liong Sik himself should visit Bukit Pelanduk to understand the plight of the farmers.

Although MCA maintains that the government has given much support and assistance to those affected, to the farmers, nothing practical has been implemented.

"It's best that Ling, as the leader of the Chinese community, come and talk to us," said Lai ( far left ), 36, who claimed that most of the former pig farmers are also MCA members.

The farmers claim that Ling has never personally met them throughout the ordeal.

Those who followed government advice and ventured into other activities, such as fish rearing, failed. As a consequence, the money they invested into these new business ventures was also lost, they say.

"He (Ling) keeps asking us to change jobs, but it is difficult to do," said Lai.

On top of that, the farmers still need to repay the bank loans they took for their previous investments in pig farms before the outbreak.

Not much help

The ex-pig farmers are also saddened that there are some who think they are being too demanding, when in their eyes, not much help had been given to them to begin with.

At first, the government only wanted to compensate the farmers with a flat rate of RM50 for every pig culled. However, the rate was eventually increased to RM120 per pig for the first 2,000 pigs culled and RM50 for the rest, with the latter rising to RM85 prior to the Teluk Kemang by-election last year.

The state government is planning to relocate them to Jimah, the only pig-farming area in Negeri Sembilan following the outbreak.

However, the pig farmers are reluctant to move because they have invested up to RM500 million in their farms in Bukit Pelanduk. Also, new land in Jimah would cost them between RM145,000 and RM180,000 per acre.

That pig-farming is allowed to operate in other parts of Malaysia designated by the Agriculture Ministry, appears puzzling to some people at Bukit Pelanduk who claim that even previously infected places are now in operation. "Why are people in other places allowed to rear pigs?" Eee asked.

She says there should be a long-term plan for the residents of Bukit Pelanduk. She thinks restarting their own farms is the solution.

Guo concurs. "We'll take things step by step. It's best if we are allowed to continue pig-farming."

Until then, the ghost town continues to die a slow death.