IN the heart of Malaysia, a nation celebrated for its vibrant diversity and rich traditions, a paradox unfolds within its healthcare system—a narrative akin to the collision of two worlds. Picture a setting where ancient wisdom and modern science coexist but are compelled into a reluctant dance by the rigid steps of the law.

Consider a hospital in Kuala Lumpur, with over a century of history, serving as a beacon of hope where healing arts from various spectra—allopathic, alternative, and complementary—converge. However, even within these revered halls, the absurdity and discrimination in the regulation of these practices cast a shadow over the harmonious blend.

Imagine the scenario under the Private Healthcare Facilities Act of 1998, where the Malaysian landscape draws a stark line, segregating acupuncturists and medical doctors, chiropractors, and radiologists as if they were players in different leagues, separated by doors and walls. It questions the assumption that Malaysians can’t discern the difference in their expertise.

Delve deeper into this narrative, and a curious dichotomy emerges. Traditional and complementary practitioners, despite being recognized under the Act of 2016, find themselves treated as lesser kin compared to their allopathic counterparts. In a society where many turn first to the ancient practices of traditional healers, it begs the question – why impose a tax on such services while sparing medical treatments? This discrimination is not just puzzling; it’s a reflection of a system at odds with itself.

Reflect on the wisdom of ages – the 3000-year-old roots of traditional Chinese medicine, the intricate practices of Islamic medicine, or Ayurveda’s ancient Indian secrets. These are not just alternatives; they’re integral parts of a cultural heritage, often sought before the more invasive approaches of modern medicine. Yet, the law seems blind to this diversity, burdening these practices with taxes and increasing their costs.

The saga takes a dramatic turn during MCO 2.0. Medical doctors continue their practice unhindered, while traditional and complementary practitioners face the absurdity of online-only consultations. How does one perform acupuncture or chiropractic adjustments through a screen? It’s a policy that borders on the surreal.

This narrative isn’t just about laws; it’s about common sense, or rather, the lack thereof. It’s about a healthcare system caught in the crossfire of outdated regulations.

This story is a call to action – a plea to reevaluate and reform. It’s about listening to the voices of healthcare professionals, both mainstream and alternative, who strive daily to provide care but are hindered by unjust and illogical laws. It’s time for a change, time to embrace the full spectrum of healing arts in Malaysia with fairness and respect. The stage is set, and the actors are ready – will the script of Malaysia’s healthcare story finally get the rewrite it deserves? – January 1, 2024.

* Senior chiropractor Datuk Nick Boden reads The Malaysian Insight.

* 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.