THE health of political parties and the state of the economy are yoked in tandem. In Kelantan, the heart of PAS, that factor may have a significant role in the next general election.

Kota Baru presents an impression of a hustling city with bustling malls and car-filled streets, but away from it, in the many kampungs, many of the houses are dilapidated, a few post-flood ones rising on higher stilts, all crammed and threaded with narrow, twisting dirt trails, and life is hardscrabble for many.

The stagnant situation in Kelantan is best summarised by Adonai, a retired civil servant, met at the Tok Bali fishing port mid-morning. He was carrying a bag of a kilo and a half of voyage-mangled ikan kembong, costing RM10, for his six cats, while waiting for his wife, a retired teacher, to get a few for themselves.

Asked about the standard of living in Kota Baru, Adonai came up with the clichéd: “go into a shop with RM50 to get rice and oil and emerge with a bit of change”. He wouldn’t be drawn out on Kelantan politics, politely insisting he was apolitical, didn’t follow politics, just happy with his gardening.

His diplomatic mask slipped when he confirmed that his four children and their families have moved to KL for greener pastures. That prompted: “The young want a good life. In Kelantan… kalau kepentingan ugama, kemewahan (If religion rules, luxury… (He left the sentence rhetorically unfinished).

Hussain, a retired civil servant too, spends part of every morning, with his bare feet ankle-deep in squishy mud on a bank of Sungai Kelantan, in Kok Majid, Tumpat, casting his net for lunch for him and his three grandchildren.

He, too, claimed to be apolitical, and felt that prices generally were about the same: some up, some down. That was probably explained by his contentment with his simple retirement.

The river fed him and his family, but that day’s catch was a few shrimps, and a few small fish, hauled from a river brown as teh tarik, a far cry from years ago. His response to the mudflow of Sungai Kelantan? ”Politics. Balak (logging).”

He ironically quoted the same couplet that David Teo never got to complete saying to the prime minister before he was slapped: Sekali air pasang, Sekali pantai berubah (everytime water flows, everytime shoreline changes shape). Implying new PAS leader, different PAS.

Fauzi, a small trader in his early 30s, early in the morning on the first day of Ramadan, was at a ramshackle wooden stall by the side of the road in Bachok to buy beef. He said the stall was started by one of the villagers because the two stalls they used to frequent down the road had been upping their prices.

Fauzi‘s response to whether prices of basic things have been stable or going up? He laughed.

“Ada harga turun? (where are lower prices?) Harga apa barang? (what things?)”

He dismissed politicians with another cynical laugh, as he rode off on his motorcycle, one hand holding the blood-dripping leg of a cow: “Politics. Bila ada pilihanraya, dia janji (he promises), dia janji, janji, janji, semuanya just janji, tada action. Tengok kampung ini. Mana ada action?” (Everything is just promises, no action. Look at this village. Where is the action?) 

A similar opinion of politicians was echoed by Rokiah in a weatherbeaten, age-weary kampung on the outskirts of Gua Musang. “Dia cakap, dia cakap, cakap, cakap, semua cakap saja. Apa buat?” (They talk, talk, talk. They all only talk. What have they done?)

Note: Rokiah is a pseudonym. While prepared to talk about her situation, she refused to give her name or have her photograph taken, because she said her name, photograph and critical comments may be seen by either or both sides of the political fence, she would be blacklisted and the trickle of help would stop. 

Initially, she would not reveal any political affiliation, just voicing the pragmatic stance that anybody wanted to aid, she will be queuing to receive. Who she votes for is her secret. She revealed at the end she was a BN supporter.

Rokiah’s house, next to a pole bearing a rusting Semangat 46 sign, is like many of her neighbours’ – wooden, zinc-roofed, dirt-floored – across the road from railway tracks, commuters sitting on the rails in a wait, kids skipping on rail sleepers.

She complained about the trickle of aid she gets, accepting it as a given that much will be diverted, that one must be nice to the penghulu (village head), that he will have his favoured. She obviously didn’t consider herself favoured, because she said she got RM1,500 after the flood, and her answer to the good that amount did was to sweep her hand taking in her rudimentary wooden shack and her neighbours.

Bolstered by her resigned moaning that a datuk was allotted three new low-cost houses at the fringe of the kampung.

A seemingly entrenched system favouring datuks was also the belief of Mat and Shukri, fishermen in Pantai Sanok, Bachok.

On a hot afternoon, the first day of Ramadan, Shukri was mending a net and Mat was napping in a wakaf. It was the beginning of a three-month spell when inshore fishermen were not allowed to go out with nets, only using rod and line, so that fish fingerlings had a chance to size up.

In theory. The reality is foreign trawlers sweeping in – what’s not big enough to sell, gets dumped for fishmeal and fertiliser. To compound it, some of the deepsea trawlers are Malaysian-owned.

Mat said, “We made a report, gave them the number of the boat. One week later, we went to check, they say the boat owned by a datuk, cannot do anything.”

A slim, shallow-draft boat noisily motoring by prompts Mat: “That’s our kind of boat. Catch about 10kg a day if we are lucky, make about RM300 a month.”

Mat’s eight children all have degrees or diplomas. He laughed at the idea that any of his children would consider being a fisherman.

On politics, both were initially reticent, Mat saying he had no comment, that he did not support any party.

Shukri ventured to say that only when elections loom are party reps seen, “Tak nampak sebelum, tak nampak selepas . (Don’t see before, don’t see after.)”

What drew them out was the splitting of Amanah from PAS.

Mat believes the quarrel is trouble for PAS.

What about PAS and Umno getting pally?

Mat: If Umno marries PAS, Amanah will rise. Tok Hadi and Tok Guru are not the same. Tok Hadi is Terengganu. Tok Guru was Kelantan. What property did Tok Guru leave behind when he died? Go look at his house. Now his son, for the sake of politics, is following Tok Hadi.

It’s not that we support or don’t support PAS. The PAS then and PAS now are different.

Shukri: If it’s not Amanah, it will be BN.

Mat: PAS doesn’t give anything. BN gives this, gives that. Datuk Najib (Prime Minister and Umno president Najib Razak) bagus, gives us a RM100 fishing net, gives everyone GST.

A woman steals milk powder for her baby, she is arrested. A man steals millions, he is not arrested. – June 4, 2017.