May 23, 2009 will be etched in my memory forever. Having received a tearful call from my sister in Malaysia, asking that we return soonest as dad was involved in a car accident, I stumbled out of bed, called mum, called my uncle but to no avail.

Not quite grasping the extent of how my life will forever be changed, I racked my brains for the easiest way to get flight tickets on a Saturday morning. The next shrill ring from my mobile delivered the blow - dad had died, dad is gone. Forever gone...but why? How?

Dad had been walking that route daily for the past 10 years. I had so many questions. No one should have to receive such a cruel call. No one should have to die the way that dad died - a tragic road accident where dad was a pedestrian hit by a car, his head and limbs damaged from the impact.

The hours that followed that earth-shattering phone call went by in a blur...the long emotionally arduous journey back to my childhood home will now always be marred with a tinge of sadness, a tinge of anger - anger at the state that had let me down.

A place where I worked hard, paid my taxes dutifully, even defended the need for everyone to be honest about their taxes as I wanted to see my beloved state progress. Now I realise, this was but a misappropriated love.

The subsequent days passed by with us siblings and mum in a grief-stricken daze going through the motions, struggling to say our goodbyes to dad, questioning the cruel deal that was dealt to dad and us, questioning why such an young driver, who was reported shy of 18 years young, had to be so careless.

Perhaps he will live with the guilt of killing one man, but I wonder whether he comprehends in his young mind that he has robbed a wife of a life-long companion of more than 40 years, he has robbed a family of a dad, a grandfather, a brother, an uncle, so suddenly, so prematurely.

We will never be able to share our big moments with dad around, our hearts will always break a little every time we return to our childhood home.

My view of the state assembly person representing 3rd mile area in Kuching is also enlightened.

Days later, I found out that dad's accident was the second case in a similar spot at the 3rd mile bazaar traffic lights. A similar tragedy occurred a year ago to another elderly man.

Where was the state assembly person in all this? Have you ensured that the roads are designed such that the driver's tendency to over-speed to beat a green light is avoided? Where are the surveillance cameras like those in KL? Where are the policemen to book recalcitrant road users? Where are the stiffer penalties?

Are there timers for pedestrians adequate to allow for a safe crossing, including for the slower elderly folk? I am reminded yet again, this is the second fatality in a span of one year. Get out from your cosy cocoon, Mr State Assembly Person.

As the location where dad was knocked down was not new, what have you, as the representative for this area, done since last year? What have you tried to do for people in Batu Kawa and 3rd Mile Kuching?

Act before the next fatality! Are the sacrifices of the elderly immaterial when they reach their golden years? Are they not worth your time and effort to improve the situation? Where are the funds accumulated from taxes used in the country? How many more lives need to be destroyed before you wake up to improve the situation at the 3rd mile bazaar?

As I spent my time leafing through the local papers during those grim, dark days, I see the government willing to spend money to bring back fallen heroes from abroad - a very noble gesture indeed, but what about a bountiful service to the living?

I drive past the beautiful new, golden state assembly building (in Kuching, Sarawak) and I balk at the costs incurred - what about spending money for the improvement of lives of the general wider public who contributed so much to enable such exorbitant amounts to be spent by the ruling government for a lifeless building benefitting a few elites for perhaps no more than a month in a year?

I also plead for Sarawakians to wake up and start aggressively educating our politicians for perhaps this is the only way for any wisdom to ever permeate and prevail.

I miss dad terribly; I still half-expect him to walk in the door returning from his favourite past-time, chit-chatting with his coffee buddies at 3rd mile or to come into our childhood home from tending his garden.

I still wish this was a bad nightmare I could wake up from. If nothing, I hope our loss, our dad's life would count for a beginning of a revival of our land, our government and for Sarawakians in speaking up.

We chant ‘Sarawak Boleh!', ‘Malaysia Boleh!' so let's proudly ‘boleh' for something that is beneficial and life-changing for the wider, general public for a change.