You may have seen her protesting against real estate development on Penang’s hill slopes as the voice of the Tanjung Bungah Residents Association and a member of the Penang Forum.
But perhaps not many people know that Meenakshi Raman, a lawyer and former Internal Security Act (ISA) detainee, has been a civil rights campaigner since the 1980s.
For her relentless defence of the right of Bukit Merah residents to a healthy life, she has been compared to American legal clerk Erin Brokovich, whose campaign against water poisoning in a California town was the subject of a critically acclaimed Hollywood film starring Julia Roberts.
She was in the legal team that represented eight residents of the north Perak town in the 1985 suit against a rare earth plant that was said to be radioactive. The Ipoh High Court ordered the plant to stop its operations until safety measures were met.
Two years later, the government allowed the factory to run again, with permission from the federal atomic regulatory agency. However, after years of engagement in a legal battle, the owners decided, on their own, to close down the plant in January 1994.
Meenakshi also fought for the rights of displaced Thean Teik Estate farmers in Air Itam, Penang, between 1982 and 1983. It was her first case as a public interest lawyer for the Consumers Association of Penang (CAP).
“I was not going to be just an ordinary lawyer, working in the judiciary or legal service or even the corporate sector,” she told FMT. “I wanted to do something to help the poor.
“With CAP, I started dealing with cases which were deemed controversial. In the case of the Bukit Merah Asian Rare Earth plant, we found mothers with high levels of miscarriages.
“I saw a lot of similarities to the Erin Brokovich case. The factory in Bukit Merah was in front of an area with a large population of mothers and their children suffering from health problems. And the government fully supported the operation of the plant.”
Meenakshi’s life took a turn in 1987 when she and scores of others were caught in the Operation Lalang dragnet. She was placed in solitary confinement for 47 days under the now-repealed ISA.
She recalled the day of her arrest on Oct 27. “I saw two women stopping outside our office,” she said. “I welcomed them in, thinking they were there to complain about something. Moments later, they told me I’d been arrested under the ISA. They were Special Branch officers.
“I was outraged. Here I was, a lawyer fighting for fundamental liberties, and now I had become the victim of an unjust law. I was never told why I was arrested. I think it was because I was handling very controversial cases.”
She was blindfolded and driven away to the Dickens Street police station, where the current Penang police headquarters is located.
“They took off my blindfold and led me to a room where I was told to undress and wear grey prison garb. I was not allowed to wear undies.
“Then I was brought to my cell, which was 4ft wide and 14ft long. It had a short wooden bench, a squatting toilet and a shower head. I slept on the small and short wooden bench. There were no beds or pillows.
“There was an orange incandescent light hanging above me. It was kept on 24/7. It was a real test of my faith. I prayed a lot.”
There was a peephole in the cell door that was left open. It allowed her to hear footsteps and the chatter of voices and gave her a glimpse of a random probing eye once in a while.
“It was only after a few weeks that I learnt that the then Aliran president, Dr Chandra Muzaffar, was next door to me. I could hear his walking cane clicking.”
During interrogation sessions, her questioners would ask: “Why are you working for poor people? Why aren’t you like other normal lawyers?” She said she kept telling them she liked to help people.
“Another group of policemen would play bad cop and intimidate me by screaming. I just tolerated them.”
Her visitors were strictly monitored. A policewoman would sit nearby to listen to their conversations.
“My family would bring food from home, but the wardens would take it and say they would hand it to me later, but I never got them.
“I only received tissues and sanitary pads. Out of sheer boredom, I would save all the packaging of the tissue box and pads so that I could read what was printed on them. I would just read and read the fine print on those boxes again and again.”
About a week before her release, the wardens surprised her by giving her some novels to read.
“They handed me some mindless fiction, like those by Jackie Collins. It was a joy to read at the time.” When she was released on Dec 13, the police dropped her off at her home on Cantonment Road.
“I remember seeing (CAP president) SM Mohamed Idris moments later. We broke into tears as we hugged each other.
“I realised that there are many things we take for granted. From then on, I valued keeping in touch with people. I appreciated nature more. I love looking at trees, listening to waves crashing and breathing in fresh air. Being let go also made me realise what it was like to be alive and it only made me stronger. It gave me more reason to fight for civil liberties.”
When asked about her thoughts on new laws that have been criticised as the ISA in disguise, she said: “These are unjust and draconian because they confer wide discretionary powers on the authorities. They can be misused and abused to suit the whims of the state.”
No comments:
Post a Comment