FOUR years ago, Malaysia buried five young Orang Asli children who came from a small village in Gua Musang, Kelantan.

The children were part of a group of seven who had fled from their school out of fear of being punished, and had gotten lost in the jungles surrounding them.

By the time their elders and authorities were alerted, only two were found alive after being out in the wilderness for 48 days. These two had watched their friends and relatives die.

The funeral, held in a remote village about a 3-hour drive from Gua Musang, should have marked a day of national tragedy, as the senseless deaths of these young children were the symbol of our failure to protect the most vulnerable segments of our society.

But instead, news about the deaths of Sasa Sobrie, Ika Ayel, Haikal Yaacob, Linda Rosli and Juvina David were largely overshadowed by political shenanigans and multi-billion ringgit scandals that plagued the previous government.

Almost four years later, Malaysians were alerted last week to yet another  tragedy befalling the Orang Asli community when at least 14 villagers from the Bateq tribe in Kuala Koh, Kelantan, died of a mysterious disease.

Local activists who have long lived with the Orang Asli community and are all too familiar with their struggles and challenges to their way of life, say the sudden deaths were caused by contaminated waters. Their fingers, and that of many of the villagers, point to the rampant mining, plantation and logging activities in the jungles that used to be the Orang Asli’s home.

While pneumonia or respiratory infection has so far been flagged officially as a possible cause for the deaths, the government has yet to determine, or release, the actual source of the disease or infection.

There should have been a sickening sense of deja vu with these deaths, and that of the five young children who died so senselessly four years ago in the very same jungles.

But with the exception of too few champions of the Orang Asli’s rights, much of “New Malaysia” has been unbothered by the news, perhaps because we have all grown used to ignoring these Malaysians whose lives are so far disconnected from our own.

It possibly embarrasses us to accept the reality that their community continues to lose their land, their identities, their rights to live and make a living, and now, their very lives, as the rest of us live in the bubble of urban and rural living, demanding higher wages and the right to default on our study loans.

Barely days after their deaths made the news, and even as their bodies still lay in the jungles and the tears of their loved ones remained fresh, Malaysians were treated to news of a different kind of disease – gutter politics in the form of yet another sex scandal.

I won’t accord the incident or its purported actors even a modicum of dignity by repeating the timeline that has seen the emergence of viral sex clips, confessions, denials and more confessions. Malaysians already seem to have a good grip on the gory details, as do all the local and international media.

There is the expected outrage, calls for resignations and demands for investigations. And buried within all this all too familiar noise, the Orang Asli have once again been shut out.

It is an utterly disgraceful fact that it has been almost a fortnight since at least 14 otherwise healthy Orang Asli villagers – including a one-year-old baby –died almost en masse in the jungles of Kelantan, and nobody has any answers as to why.

With modern-day technology and one of the best healthcare systems in the world, it is hard to comprehend why the cause of an outbreak so severe that it killed 14 people in a matter of days cannot be determined, and cannot be immediately contained.

The truth is that we do not lack the technical or professional capabilities, but that we lack a sense of urgency when it comes to the Orang Asli.

According to the Centre for Orang Asli Concerns, the Orang Asli made up just slightly more than 140,000 of the population, a mere 0.5%, in the year 2000. Yet, the poverty rate for this community of Malaysia’s true indigenous people was a shocking 77%. Their average life expectancy was 53, compared to the national average of 72.85 in the same year.

All over the country, Malaysia’s Orang Asli continue to fight for recognition as rightful heirs to lands left to them by their ancestors. And all over the country, their story is almost always one of despondence and despair as those in power lack the resolve to stand up for this minority group.

As a country with a new government in place – a government that the majority have truly voted to put in power – we have a chance to try and make up for the blot on our nation these past 60 years.

The Orang Asli are too small a number to make a difference politically, but if we are to truly become a nation we can all be proud of, the welfare and future of the least among us must not be merely an afterthought of government policy.

We can be better than this, and we must. – June 14, 2019.

* Julia Yeow has been in journalism for two decades and counts it as her first love, despite enjoying brief stints as a lecturer, clown and salad maker. She is a strong believer in social justice, and holds that there is sometimes more truth in the greys, than the blacks and whites.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.