BEING born barely three years after Malaysia’s independence, l grew up accustomed to its misdeeds, disguised as governing policies.

I was taught to turn a blind eye to preferential treatments, accepted it as a way of life, experienced institutionalised discrimination as a norm.

My parents said it was okay to play second fiddle, to be relegated to a fated second-class citizenry.

At school, lessons of cultural tolerance were basically for nought as we essentially continue to live, play and function within our ethnicity.

We crossed, the racial divide – mingled and tolerated – a necessity of societal correctness, governing directives and plain survival of the most astute.

Despite it all, l enjoyed a good life by way of my parents’ tenacity, prudence and plain common sense.

But I grew up pretty much insulated in a Chinese cocoon within a multi-cultural environment, emerging from it for times of necessary convenience. I left this cocoon one last time in 1981.

I was a lonely Malaysian between 1981 and 2018.

1981 changed my life as l knew it as a Malaysian. With results good enough to be better than many of the “sons of the soil” l knew – but not great enough to be admitted into any of the few local universities at that time because of said discrimination – my only option to further my education.

After working for a couple of years and realising that it was not the path out to a desired future, the only option left for higher education was to go overseas.

With practically my parents’ life savings and the signatory gesture of a guarantor – I ended up in Ames, Iowa, a lonely track to a faraway land – part of the opportunity costs to pursue what was not available in the land of my birth.

Seven years and two degrees later, Iowa State University set the foundation to my American journey – often times lonely, missing out on family, friends and relatives – but significantly more rewarding as we flourish for the first time on nothing but our own merits.

It was an environment that was less than perfect but still far better than the one big charade that continued to be played out from where we hailed.

I was, for a period of time, a lonely Malaysian. But not no longer.

My wife and built our careers, family and home in a setting we find conducive, welcoming and affirming – despite its imperfections, as attested by this reflection, the shameful, disconcerting presidential debacle we are going through.

I do not feel lonely any more as l know now what l wish l knew then – that life is a passage that all goes through with similar experiences of emotions, joy and tribulations – only at different times, precipitated by different events and situations.

No one is immune to life’s many tough lessons, choices and consequences.

I welcome you, New Malaysia, 2018-future.

August marked the 100 days since May 9 brought forth an epic euphoric moment for Malaysians in the country and those spread out across the globe as a result of 60 years of blatant discrimination.

As we approach the country’s 61st birthday, l wish that l was completely convinced that a New Malaysia has emerged, but l am not.

For the sake of the victors who fought hard and the younger generation whose flame burns brighter, l welcome you, New Malaysia.

I wish you well as you commit to realign the country of my roots, the state of my birth, and the city of my childhood.

May your stripes be earned fair and square. May your colours run true. May your crescent moon shine bright.

Happy independence day, Malaysia. – August 21, 2018.

* Choy Leow 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.