For many years, I have been a silent observer of the Malaysian political landscape.

It all started with Bersih 1, when I actually felt compelled to know what was really happening to Malaysia and its politics. I was surprised to look at how fast things were heating up at that time with support pouring in as if the floodgates had opened.

So, many of my friends and peers were sharing posts and comments, vindicating their support of what was dubbed the biggest political shift seen in the history of Malaysia.

I had the occasional goosebumps looking at how united everyone was. Not the kind of unity you see in commercial ads or school textbooks (you know, a bunch of wide-eyed people clad in their traditional attire holding the Jalur Gemilang with a smile that often looks like a grin).

Instead, it was a bond united by blood, sweat, and nationalism. I too jumped onto the bandwagon, got a few bruises and came back feeling contended that I did something that day. A part of something huge that will bring about a new dawn for this country. I felt I belonged somewhere that day, politically and ethically. I had a movement which I belonged to. I shared a common goal with thousands of people who took to the streets of Kuala Lumpur and the rest of the world. I was officially a part of Malaysia’s politics, without even intending to be.

Moving forward, many years later, that feeling, that hope died down. The movement and its principles deviated so much that many decided to go back into their shells, me included. The shell of life, work, family, friends, etc. Politics was just no longer part of that list. No one cared no more. I didn’t either.

But I still wanted to know what was going on. I still wanted to be kept informed not for participation but maybe because I still cared for this nation and was hoping that something good will come.

I went about my work amid the plummeting ringgit, water disruptions, Covid-19, backdoor government, Sheraton move, social distancing, haze. I had a lot of things to keep me occupied. But still, I couldn’t really find my political identity.

I was not a willing candidate to be a part of parties that used the racial card, and all of the available options were no different. Perhaps they brand themselves with race and religion because it sells. How pathetic. So, no, and I continued to be the unwilling benchwarmer.

I was hoping if any of the newer. much younger ministers and representatives would come about with something sustainable, something attractive. The likes of Khairy Jamaluddin, Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul Rahman, Rafizi Ramli and Nurul Izzah Anwar. I loved these guys.

Khairy was one of my all-time favourite ministers for his eloquence and ability to acknowledge the elephant in the room without fear. It’s a shame that he is on the wrong side (wrong in my definition).

Syed Saddiq is the more made-to-fit candidate. Got his training from the Zen master himself and is now standing up for what he represents. This is the reason why I want to be a part of his party. He is the New Age minister that tries to get close to the people. Tries to understand the plight of the common Malaysian, the Foodpanda riders, Grab riders, the Mat Rempits, interns, the job seekers. He reaches out to the actual minorities who are not defined by their race and religion instead by their socio-economic status.

Young, dynamic, normal people who are hungry for equal opportunities that were being robbed by their peers from the Crony Land and its neighbouring Nepo Land. Syed Saddiq’s youth party was a calling for me. A calling that I waited for so long to belong somewhere.

A party that I resonate so easily with. Not for my race, not for my religion but for my principles. Principles, how refreshing to finally be able to use this word in the same line as politics.

Dear YB, if you ever get to read this, let me tell you that you are a light at the end of the tunnel for so many aspiring young Malaysians who are so eager to bring about some good to this land. To bring back the true essence of Malaysia and the unity it once boasted. Thank you for standing up for what you felt was right even when you are mocked and belittled, and for not breaking under pressure. Thank you for staying calm and keeping the march.

Now tell me, where should I sign?

Tania Rengasamy is an FMT reader.

The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.