BUANASENI

The Gun Incident

GUNS are only tools that the policemen carry with them and I had never seen one being used in front of me. However, in 2004, a gun was pointed to my head. It was late at night after work. I was an auditor from PricewaterhouseCoopers and I was working like a mad dog trying to sort out the financial statements of a subsidiary of Malaysian Mining Corporation (“MMC”) called Tronoh Mines Malaysia Berhad (later changed name to Zeelan Berhad). I arrived at the front gate of my parent’s house in Shah Alam and was having a smoke in the car with the windows down. It was Marlboro lights cigarettes and a Proton Satria GTi car. 

I picked up my now obsolete Nokia handphone and dialed my girlfriend’s number. We spoke for a while and then, suddenly, there was a gun touching my head. The man who was handling the gun said, “Oi! Lu kasi tutup itu talipon. Lu keluar kereta.” 

I calmly said to my girlfriend, “Hey! I’ll call you back. I need to open the gates. You knowlah, my parents refuse to put automatic gate.” Then, I switched off the phone, opened the door and stepped out from the car. I looked at the man. He was in a black leather jacket with a bandana wrapped over the bottom half of his face. 

The man then said in what I would describe as a normal Klang Valley Malay accent, “Ehhh! Apa lu tengok-tengok? Lu menirap atas jalan sekarang.” I was still in a state of shock. It did not register in my head that not complying would mean danger. He said again, “Oi! Berapa kali gua nak cakap? Lu dah lah tidur dengan bini orang, aku tembak kang!”

I was further shocked and said, “Huh! Mana ada saya tidur dengan sapa-sapa. Saya virgin lah. Saya virgin lah.” Without any warning, the man struck the gun onto my head. My head bled. I fell to the ground. Meanwhile, his other colleague jumped into the car with the engine still running and sped off. The man with the gun jumped onto his motorcycle and sped off. 

I stood up slowly with blood dripping from my head. Even so, my accountant’s head was still working. I was making an inventory of items stolen in my head. I lost a car most definitely. I lost my laptop. Well, it was PricewaterhouseCooper’s laptop. I lost compact discs for Yngwie J. Malmsteen, Kelly Clarkson, Search, Wings and M. Nasir. I lost a bottle of half-drunk Vanilla Coke. I lost a packet of Marlboro. I lost a lot of blood too.

I went to the house bell and started to press it numerous times. Everyone was asleep in their airconditioned rooms. So, it took me nearly forty five minutes before the door opened and my twin brother saw me with eyes wide open, “Whaddahelll happened to you?”

“Well, this is just another late night working as an auditor. Hey! Give me a cigarette, will you.” We went inside and as I was glancing the blood on my left arm, I noticed that my father’s 1969 Rolex was still intact. It did not make it into the inventory.