Author Archives: wcw
Fighting Cartels with Iskandar Ismail
The Private Vaccine Jab with Dr Kuljit Singh
Apparently, honourable individuals are rolling off the assembly line these days
Keeping track: Council of Federal Datuks Malaysia president Datuk Awalan Abdul Aziz showing the special card issued to people conferred Datukship titles by the Yang DiPertuan Agong at a press conference on March 8. There have been calls to have a digital registry where the status and authenticity of titles can be verified. — AZHAR MAHFOF/ The Star
HARDLY a week goes by without a titled person – usually a Datuk or a Datuk Seri – landing in hot water.
This time around, the police are hunting for a 33-year-old, wanted for his alleged involvement in a money laundering and commercial syndicate.
Malaysians must be wondering how on earth a young man, barely into his second decade of work, could be awarded such an honour, whether at state or national level.
Well, he isn’t the only one. More and more young people have such honorific titles because some states don’t impose an age limit on recipients.
Some states seem more generous in awarding these titles and medals.
This doesn’t look like it’s just an alarming situation, but more a critical one, unless there’s an understanding to impose some form of moratorium or quota on titles awarded each year by states, and at national level.
In a 2002 article, Tan Sri Johan Jaaffar said that in 2001, 650 titles were given out. He took an average of 600 per year, so in a span of 19 years, there were 11,400 Datukship awarded.
I wouldn’t be surprised if there are more!
There’s nothing wrong with the system because it has a rich tradition going back to the Malay sultanate system, but over recent decades, it has lost its lustre and credibility, too.
The perception among many Malaysians is that such titles are for sale.
Even if this feeling can’t be substantiated, that is unfortunately what many Malaysians generally think of titled persons.
To everyday Malaysians, many of these people haven’t done enough, or anything at all, for the betterment of society.
The two most outspoken Rulers – the Sultans of Selangor and Johor – have openly expressed their views, or more precisely, dismay, on the situation.
Kudos must be accorded to the Sultan of Pahang for revoking the Datuk title of several people recently.
In the case of Datuk Seri Nicky Liow Soon Hee, he has become an instant household name for all the wrong reasons.
He’s now a fugitive with two investigation papers opened on him by Johor police under the Anti-Money Laundering Act (Amla) and the Security Offences (Special Measures) Act 2012 (Sosma).
He was arrested for assaulting two Rela members on duty at the Kou Ong Yah temple in Kuala Lumpur four years ago. He was later acquitted and discharged.
His modus operandi, probably to impress his clients or business associates, appears to be getting photographed with VVIPs, especially ministers and top police officers, to imply he’s close to these powerful figures.
It doesn’t help that our VVIPs are mostly easily accessible and generous with having their pictures taken with almost anyone to avoid being accused of snobbery.
So red faces abounded last week when many of his pictures with VVIPs went viral. Someone in a photo even called me to say he has no personal relationship with the wanted man.
There were other pictures of him in a room, framed against a stunning KL skyline, and cut with a stylish pose with a luxury car to suggest a man of great wealth.
He has arrived, and as Johan said, so has the Malaysian Dream – to have a title to gain instant respect in society and, sometimes, to reap the rewards of impunity.
Of course, Nicky isn’t the first with a questionable reputation to earn a Datuk title.
Credit to him, he hasn’t been charged or convicted. However, there have been cases where persons with criminal records were those with titles.
It simply means the vetting process by the selection committee has failed miserably because the police, Malaysian Anti-Corruption Agency, and other agencies, should be consulted for background info and financial status.
There’s obviously a demand for titles, and it has reached the point where Malaysians are prepared to buy dubious awards from purported royalties from southern Philippines. Never mind if these titles are worthless.
Then there are also Datuk impersonators, who will now get the book thrown at them for such stunts.
There are calls to have a digital registrar like the National Regis-tration Department’s, where the status and authenticity of titles can be verified.
Many titled Malaysians who have worked hard to earn honour, be it as long-serving civil servants, the police and army personnel, businessmen, community leaders, academicians, professionals and sportsmen, are obviously unhappy about those who don’t deserve it yet. Honour, as the saying goes, must be earned.
No wonder many Malaysians think that the real Datuks are grandfathers who have little ones to hold and care for in the family. Truth be told, that’s the real Malaysian dream.
Economy SOS
Kickstarting the economy: As Malaysia opens up and work from home comes to an end, many busy urbanites need domestic workers’ help around the house as well as to care for their kids or elderly parents. — 123rf.com
TIMES are dire, but the good news is the price of crude palm oil has at least gone up, offering a ray of hope for economic recovery. It’s at a 13-year high, and while there are reports claiming sustaining it would be difficult, the point is that there are reasons to rejoice because it has finally climbed.
The price of brent crude oil is also expected to rise throughout April, according to forecasts.
We know how important these two sectors are to Malaysia, but we need to address some serious concerns.
Palm oil plantations are struggling with the shortage of foreign labour with no one to harvest the fruits.
We must let foreign workers return if Malaysia wants to retain its position as a global palm oil producer.
The Sarawak government has allowed foreign labour back into the state since March 1, but that isn’t so elsewhere.
The directive from the Sarawak government is simple – employers are responsible for adhering to the mandatory two-week quarantine for their workers, and the administration of Covid-19 tests.
We can imagine the frustrations of planters, unable to fully exploit the current high CPO price because they can’t optimise production in their estates.
According to a report, a pre-MCO survey by the Malaysian Palm Oil Board (MPOB) indicated a shortage of 31,021 harvesters among respondents, which covered 76% of the industry.
Based on a conservative productivity estimate per harvester of 1.5 tonnes fresh fruit bunch (FFB) a day, and 280 working days a year, crop loss amounts to almost 20% in yield.“This in turn translates to a loss in production of 3.429 million tonnes of crude palm oil (CPO) and 857,000 tonnes of palm kernel (PK) a year. Assuming CPO and PK prices of RM3,000 and RM1,800 per tonne respectively, the opportunity loss amounts to an estimated RM11.83bil of revenue a year. Income tax revenue loss to the government is estimated at RM896 million a year, ” according to a joint press statement issued recently by 12 associations representing the interests of the Malaysian palm oil supply chain.
The plantation sector has a good argument because its workers operate in a rural set-up amidst an expansive landscape, so the nature of their work assures built-in social distancing.
This is unlike crowded factories in urban areas.
Obviously, we need maids again. As Malaysia opens up and work from home comes to an end, most of us will return to our workplace and invariably leave our home affairs in the lurch.
The process and preparations need to begin now so that we can conduct Covid-19 tests on these foreign domestic workers as a prerequisite for their return to Malaysia.
Most working couples are now relying on cleaners rather than stay-home maids to clean their homes, and busy urbanites also need help for caring for their kids or elderly parents.
The re-start has to begin now, since movement restrictions are being eased and more businesses are resuming.
For starters, the Immigration Department and Health Ministry must consolidate the standard operating procedures to enable maids to return.
Obviously, employers struggling with the problem are just as concerned with the health status of their maids.
Certainly, these domestic workers coming from their countries need to undergo a minimum seven-day quarantine at a designated hotel, which is paid for either by the recruitment agencies or the employers.
Each maid will surely need to take a Covid-19 test at their respective country before flying here, and if need be, go through another round of tests before completing quarantine.
Restaurants which have resumed business are now looking for staff, too.
Malaysia needs to start welcoming these guest workers. It’s bad enough that our country isn’t their preferred working destination since we don’t offer the most attractive wages, and our ringgit isn’t the most sought after either.
Let’s be frank. You only need to ask domestic workers what’s on their mind.
Still, Malaysia offers much work opportunity in kickstarting its economy. So, we could do with the help of our guest workers. In fact, we’re desperate.
Datukship Overload
Man with Nine Lives with David Gurupatham
Born to Smile with Nora Abu Hassan
A place called home
First office: Members of a chingay team demonstrating their skill with the Star flag outside the newspaper’s rented building in Weld Quay in Penang where the tabloid was launched in 1971.
I HAD just completed my Sixth Form and was waiting for my university application results. The year was 1980 and admission into one of the five public universities was uncertain.
When I turned up for an interview for a cadet reporter position – the lowest ranking post – at The Star in Pitt Street (now Jalan Masjid Kapitan Keling), Penang, I was met by the boyish looking H’ng Hung Yong.
He was an Oxford law graduate with an arts degree from Harvard University. As a fellow Xavierian, I had looked up to him while becoming an avid reader of The Star from school days.
For a school-leaver attending his first real job interview, I was pleasantly surprised that H’ng dealt with me personally. He was then the managing director and editor-in-chief.
“So, you are the guy who sends letters to the editor?” he asked, looking up from the file containing my many letters to The Star as a reader.
I was then made to take a test at the conference room next to his office.
I struggled to process a press statement and fumbled with a test on my general knowledge. My confidence nose-dived initially. I didn’t know how to use a typewriter, and neither did I know how to write a simple news article.
Yet, I got the job.
Soon, I learned how to pound on the typewriter fast and furiously with a finger from each hand, and how to keep my news pieces short and precise, all soundtracked to the judicious swearing from then news editor Oh Kee Tiang.
He wore short pants with socks almost reaching his knees to work every day. That was the standard wear of the Australian servicemen at the Royal Australian Air Force base in Butterworth.
Leading the way: Choong was the paper’s first managing director and editor-in-chief.
It was my first “tour of duty” at The Star. I served for about six months until I received a letter from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia offering me a place.
I had to provide a 24-hour notice but the timing couldn’t have been worse. The newsroom was in a state of emergency because an entertainment writer from the Kuala Lumpur office predicted a “boring weekend ahead” in the TV page when describing a Quran reading competition scheduled to be broadcast on RTM.
Back then, there was only RTM1 and RTM2, and no TV3 or Astro. The national broadcaster had also just switched from black and white to colour transmission.
The government was upset by the endless complaints from individuals and organisations.
It wouldn’t be the last time The Star would run into trouble with the government, especially the powerful Home Ministry.
But at that point, chairman Tunku Abdul Rahman simply told the staff not to worry and that he needed to have his afternoon nap first before he settled the matter. This was relayed to me by the late Tan Sri Kamal Hashim, a director of the daily.
And with that, I left the newsroom, but not without a heavy heart.
I knew then The Star would be my home for life.
In 1984, I returned to the publication on the day after I sat for my final exam at UKM. Happily, Ng Poh Tip (who went on to become The Star’s first woman group chief editor) accepted me.
The Star was also an alumni group for Xavierians. There were accusations that we, or Penangites at least, were preferred for employment. At their meetings, editors would even frequently break into northern Hokkein.
As rosy as things may have seemed, the company was struggling financially, though.
Role model: H’ng was the paper’s managing director and editor-in-chief in 1980.
It was worse in the 1970s when the directors had to dig into their own pockets for funds.
It’s common knowledge that tycoons like the late Tan Sri Loh Boon Siew were frequently sought for assistance – mostly to pay the salaries of staff.
At one point, Choong Kok Swee, who founded The Star, had to sell off his beautiful home at the lavish Jesselton Heights, and even borrowed money from his brother to meet the financial demands.
The situation was the same when I joined in 1980. When I was sent to KL for training, my colleagues and I had to stay at the Universiti Malaya hostel when the students there were on their semester break. Naturally, there was no budget for hotel accommodation.
Most of the pioneer staff eventually left for better paying jobs in rival papers.
Reporters hired by the cash-strapped newspaper were required to buy their own typewriters. And if new pens were requested, old ones had to be turned in first, almost as proof. It was clearly a tightly-run ship.
Still, it was a badge of honour to be a Star journalist. We came up with page one exclusive stories almost every week.
But under the stewardship of Choong in 1977, when The Star was just six years old, it outsold the 132-year-old Straits Times (by then The New Straits Times) in Penang.
KS Choong, as he was affectionately known, was a news editor with the Penang bureau’s Associated Press, a reporter with The Straits Echo, as well as a press attache to the Malayan Embassy in Washington DC as the First Secretary (information).
According to researcher Lilian Tan, Choong chose the name The Star after seeking inspiration from The Washington Star and other examples, including The Sun and The Daily Mirror from Britain.
The brief was for it to be a lively, sensational and easy to read tabloid – unlike the traditional broadsheet.
According to her, the masthead design and application for a printing licence was sent to the Home Ministry in April 1969. The Star was expected to break even in five years from then.
However, a month later, the racial riots of May 13 broke out. Emergency was declared and so, The Star had to wait it out.
This gave Choong time to recruit some of the best journalists, including big names like K. Sugumaran – who was the first news editor of The Star.
Finally, in April 1971, the permit arrived, but Choong couldn’t get it off the printing presses until six months later.
The office was a four-storey shop at 62, Weld Quay. Without Choong’s insight and vision to bring a new kind of journalism to Malaysia, The Star wouldn’t have existed.
It was not an easy time for the newspaper to emerge because Penang was dominated by The Straits Times and the home-grown Straits Echo, but finally, The Star debuted on Thursday, Sept 9,1971.
It was also Choong’s birthday, though the date was merely a coincidence.
Free copies were distributed, while some priced at 15 cents were sold.
Prior to that, there were many failed attempts to print the first copy. One evening, Datuk Zaman Khan (now Tan Sri), who was the OCPD of Penang, turned up at the newsroom.
He recalled many people lamenting Mana boleh hidup? (How will we pull through?) as they looked at workers manually putting the pages together.
Eventually, the paper made it to print.
“News editor Sugu and his team saw the sun come up the next day. At 6am, they staggered out of the building, headed for the Craven A nasi kandar for breakfast and went home to sleep after working non-stop for almost 16 hours (they would be back at work in seven hours),” Tan’s research revealed.
Over 15,000 copies of the 28-page inaugural issue were sold that day.
Straits Echo, with an estimated circulation of 6,000, was beaten on The Star’s very first day.
A part of The Star’s attraction was pictures of women in swimsuits. However, the Home Ministry soon sent warning letters. The page three pictures were “deemed to be prejudicial to public morality”.
By November 1975, there was no more “beach beat” for male reporters.
Still, those were exciting times.
The Star, which will turn 50 years old, has been my home. And like with all households, there have been ups and downs. There have been good bosses, horrible ones, and also, inspiring reporters who taught me how to be a good storyteller.
PK Katharason, NV Raman, Gobind Rudra, Nizam Mohamad, Kalimullah Hassan, Wong Sulong, Anna Cheah and others were all good teachers.
PK, who has retired and resides in Japan, will be remembered as a legendary reporter for having delivered the most number of exclusives, including the Bank Bumiputra Finance scandal in 1983, the Kuantan Port fiasco in 1979 and the purchase of light tanks costing RM50mil which could not be used in 1984.
It was a lesson to me – it is not the number of stories that a reporter writes but the number of big exclusives that matters.
Like any other company, it has made good profits, and sometimes, losses, too.
The Star has been my only employer and I have served over 36 years. It has given me every opportunity by starting from the bottom and elevating to be the group editor in chief and managing director and chief executive officer. The Star has been my life. It isn’t just my home but every Malaysian has a place at The Star.
To this day, The Star reaches out to the homes of millions of Malaysians every day through a variety of platforms. It has become a Malaysian institution and will likely stay that way for a long while more.
Synergised solution
THE announcement that private hospitals in Kuala Lumpur and Penang are set to become Covid-19 vaccination centres is a step in the right direction.
They would be able to supplement the government’s effort in rolling out the vaccination exercise faster.
Malaysia needs to meet the target of completing the vaccination of 27 million people – more than 80% of the population – by March 2022, or if possible, by this December the earliest. The quicker Malaysians, especially front liners, get vaccinated, the easier it would be for us to get our economy back on track.
Reopening Malaysia’s borders again is crucial because otherwise, we’re at a standstill.
But let’s not get entangled in unproductive debates on the merits or demerits of getting private hospitals to be involved in supporting the government’s vaccination plan.
All over the world, it’s common to involve private hospitals in such exercises. Even places of worship and community centres are being used in Britain.
Last week, Indonesia authorised its private vaccination scheme to run alongside its national vaccination programme. The regulation stipulates that companies can buy vaccines and inoculate their staff and families at privately run health centres. However, the catch is that the supply must come from the state-owned pharmaceutical company Bio Farma.
It has also been reported that Thailand and India private hospitals have ordered their own vaccine supplies with plans to carry out their own vaccination.
Our government has identified 600 vaccination sites, according to Science, Technology and Innovation Minister Khairy Jamaluddin, comprising Health Ministry hospitals and public health clinics, university hospitals, Malaysian Armed Forces hospitals and clinics, private general practitioner (GP) clinics, and private health care facilities.
The programme involves immunising 75,000 people a day across these 600 vaccination sites nationwide from March, which is equivalent to 12,500 people per hour in a six-hour day, or five people simultaneously getting their jabs at each vaccination site, based on a target of 15 minutes per person.
Khairy said the daily goal of 75,000 jabs is the government’s first target. The next target, depending on supply, is to administer 150,000 shots a day for the second dose.
Practitioner Dr Kuljit Singh has aptly described the participation of private hospitals as an “excellent public-private partnership, which will increase vaccination numbers in the subsequent weeks, in order to complete the first phase by the end of this month.”
“All frontliners who received their first dose of the Pfizer-BioNtech had their listing determined by the KL health department, and the vaccinators were the staff of the different private hospitals within the state, ” he said. The key phrase here is listing determined by the authorities. But we should seriously consider allowing private hospitals to also conduct their own vaccination programmes because it will shorten the deadline.
There is no reason to discourage or stop private hospitals from procuring their own supply of vaccines, especially if they’re able to do so directly from the vaccine manufacturers. Naturally, these vaccines are the ones that have been approved by the National Pharmaceutical Regulatory Agency (NPRA), which is the country’s drug administration authority.
So far, only three vaccines have been given conditional registration, including Pfizer-BioNTech, AstraZeneca-Oxford University and China’s Sinovac. The Malaysian government has procured 12 million doses of Sinovac, of which 300,000 doses have already arrived.
Khairy also said Malaysia may look at procuring the single-dose CanSino Covid-19 vaccine from China. He said the CanSino option looks better than Johnson & Johnson’s (J&J) because the US pharmaceutical company can only ship its supply in the fourth quarter of this year (4Q21).
“Therefore, we will speed up negotiations with CanSino, so that we can get a single-dose vaccine in our portfolio, ” he said.
According to media reports, China has launched another single-dose Covid-19 vaccine, Ad5-nCoV, which is an adenoviral vector vaccine developed as a collaboration between Chinese biotechnology company CanSino Biologics and a group of researchers.
Khairy said Malaysia might also decide not to proceed with its order from Johnson & Johnson, adding that the matter will be finalised in a meeting on Thursday.
“Looks like we might have to drop it. They can only give two million doses at the end of the year and for us, it is too late, ” he said.
It’s heartening to hear from Khairy that Malaysia is expanding its choice of vaccines. While it’s important for the NPRA to ensure that these vaccines meet our standards and requirements, we should also not be delayed by red tape, especially with Chinese and Russian vaccines, since we have to cope with manufacturing delays from the United States and Britain.
Let’s not be handicapped by the belief that Western-made vaccines are superior to the ones from China and Russia.
The concern seems to be that Sinovac only has 50% efficacy, which may appear lower. However, experts have all said that it’s sufficient to make a difference in a global health emergency.
The effectiveness of the annual flu shot generally ranges between 40% and 60%.
So, it’s also important to understand the difference between vaccine efficacy and effectiveness.
Adrian Esterman, the chair in biostatistics and epidemiology at the University of South Australia, told the ABC the difference was simple.
“Efficacy is how well the vaccine works in a clinical trial. Effectiveness asks: ‘How does it work out in the real population?’” he explained.
Discussion among the public is healthy, but we should encourage education so that Malaysians get the right information and share them correctly.
Likewise, there is the warped argument that if private hospitals secure their own vaccine supply, that will only benefit the rich and lead to a form of queue jumping.
On the contrary, this exercise will alleviate the government’s burden by sharing the responsibility and expediting the vaccination process.
This is not a class discourse about Marxism class conflict but achieving the vaccination goal in the minimum amount of time.
Government supplies shouldn’t be touched because their allocation has already been accounted for.
Private hospitals and clinics should appropriately be used to vaccinate the people for free, and these facilities shouldn’t be saddled with hidden costs either, like registration or administrative fees.
It won’t be easy for private hospitals to get their supply because there isn’t enough to go around since most negotiations are through the government, so something has to give.
Of course, frontliners from the medical, health, security and teaching sectors are the most important, so they should be prioritised.
But let’s not forget economic frontliners, such as those working in the logistics, transportation and supplies sectors, including cleaners, lorry and bus drivers, and even foreign factory workers.
Even food deliverers and journalists are on the streets every day because working from home isn’t possible for them, and their services are just as essential to us. Then, shouldn’t they be viewed as frontliners, too?
So, let’s get Malaysia immunised fast in every way possible by getting the public and private sectors to work together. After all, many hands make light work.