THE Australian government has announced that starting May 10, Malaysian students who wish to pursue further higher education in the country will require to show proof of a minimum equivalent of RM100,000 in savings.

This is apparently an effort to curb immigration and also, possibly, to prevent overstaying and visa abuse by international students.

It’s a far cry from the past when I studied in the then-backwater Perth before the 1998 Asian economic crisis.

My connection to Australia goes back to my infancy, when my parents brought me along to Adelaide to pursue their PhDs in the late 1970s.

I grew up pretty much an Aussie with Australian English being my first language. I even had a strong Aussie accent, according to my family.

It was a different time and place: under the Whitlam Labour government, university fees were abolished and my parents benefited from the policy.

The Australian government aimed then to make tertiary education accessible to the working- and middle-class. In the long run, the policy was successful.

Higher education would eventually become one of Australia’s main industries and its universities grew renowned for their quality.

Back then, Australia, compared to the US and the UK, was the most affordable destination for middle-class parents wishing to send their children abroad to study.

So when it was my turn to go to university, Perth – the most remote Australian capital on the west coast of the continent – was my destination because of its proximity to Malaysia (it shares the same time zone with us) and affordability compared to the cities on the east coast.

It was a boring place to be for someone in his early 20s. Consequently, it was a good place to study.

Nevertheless, because of this, I have a strong affinity with Australia. I had even considered applying for permanent residency but I never followed through (like most Malaysians my generation, unlike the successive generations).

My time in good old boring Perth shaped me not only as a person but more importantly, as an artist. I started busking in the city after I could not get a part-time job anywhere for some reason.

A part-time working visa came automatically with your student visa back then. Later in the 2000s, you had to apply for one.

I’m glad I didn’t end up washing dishes or waiting tables. I made good money from the generosity of Aussies who appreciated my busking, which prepared me to perform in public.

My being the only Asian (as far as I could see) busker in the city mall area was probably my selling point. They actually tipped me for being the odd one out.

Still, I can’t help but feel disheartened by the Australian government’s new policy. Malaysians have contributed to the Australian economy for decades. During the 1998 economic crisis, it showed.

Universities offered staggered fee payments for international students affected by the crisis.

In my university, I came to realise how wealthy some Indonesian international students were. The business faculty’s parking lot was lined with new and fancy sports cars driven by students, compared to the humanities faculty, where I was, which was littered with ageing cars.

The Australian government back then wished to hold on to the international students.

More recently, however, many Malaysians were going to Australia to work illegally, mostly as fruit pickers. Some even managed to use their working holiday visa to find full-time employment.

This change of heart of the Australian government is likely the result of that.

While we Malaysians often denigrate migrant workers here, we too are guilty of tainting our reputation abroad. I guess it’s karma.

Although I would never consider emigrating there, Australia will always have a place in my heart.

I hope the Australian government will reconsider its strict decision but until Malaysians – and other Southeast Asians – learn to respect the rule of law, it has every right to do as it sees fit.

Good on ya, mate. – May 24, 2024.

* Azmyl Yunor is a touring underground recording artiste, and an academic in media and cultural studies. He has published articles on pop culture, subcultures and Malaysian cultural politics. He adheres to the three-chords-and-the-truth school of songwriting, and Woody Guthrie’s maxim “All you can write is what you see”. He is @azmyl on Twitter.