Molester Rempits Can Go To Hell!

My fingers are shivering as I’m typing this. My heart burns with anger. My left arm is bruised with an opened wound. My boob still hurts. I fell from my bicycle after being groped by two mat rempits (guys on motorcycle) on the way home. Those fucking morons! BASTARDS! I wish I was better protected. I wish I had carried a weapon. I wish I had been prepared. The wishes of victims of sexual assault. The burden are always on the victim’s who have to have this crazy mental guilt of not taking care of themselves well enough thus making them vulnerable prey and susceptible to violence. Ironically and sadly, this happened on International Women’s Day!

I came back from Petaling Jaya after I had a meeting with a friend. It was extended until 12 midnight. Yeah I know some might say that it happened because of the time of occurrence, the road taken and the transportation mode. Predators lurk from every corners of the dark to hunt for their meal. This was about power. Power over the weaker and fragile sex.

How can women be empowered and liberated if we were to be afraid all the time?

“The male is eaten up with tension, with frustration at not being female, at not being capable of ever achieving satisfaction or pleasure of any kind; eaten up with hate -- not rational hate that is directed at those who abuse or insult you -- but irrational, indiscriminate hate... hatred, at bottom, of his own worthless self.

Gratuitous violence, besides `proving' he's a `Man', serves as an outlet for his hate and, in addition -- the male being capable only of sexual responses and needing very strong stimuli to stimulate his half-dead self -- provides him with a little sexual thrill” (S.C.U.M Manifesto)

Earlier that day, I had just noticed that I’ve never had vulgar words or repulsiveness displayed by the road users. In fact, I’ve always get encouragements which I know were triggered by me being a female on muscle-powered wheels and not purely on the basis of supporting bicycling. When reading Chainbreaker, in many parts of the cities in the U.S, cyclists are seen as pest. Here in Malaysia, male cyclists are predominantly being hate as told by a friend cyclist, Arip. But female cyclists are seen as chicks that are easy targets for verbal harassment, entertainment for lame boring guys to make their day worthwhile from their lazy ass jobs! Somehow moving tits capture their attention.

I’M ANGRY!!!!! Resent in utter repugnance! I feel harassed and violated, if not vulnerable and weakened. I understand what Hana felt like when she was molested by an old guy in a bus a long time ago (Happiness comic), how Luke felt when an old guy (something’s wrong with them!) touched him at a place where he felt violated his boundaries in the train to Penang last year, how a friend had been molested in boarding school by his seniors, how women have to constantly fight off sexual harassments every single fucking days on the streets, at homes, at their offices, at gigs, EVERYWHERE. Hana and some of our close girl friends were rubbed over their backs at the Buzzcocks gig. Anna Vo from Crux had been groped while performing in Taiping and later found out it was made as if that was awesome by some idiot guy online. Where is our safe space?

Time and time again, this shit happens to us. So how do we fight back?

Going to the police was definitely not an option for me for this specific case. I was without an ID. It will be another issue all together if I was to launch a report without it. What can they do about it? Patrol at the vicinity? Tell me off that I wasn’t to cycle at night? Or is it just for the sake of record to identify that there are psycho mat rempits on the loose in the area? Mat rempits are EVERYWHERE. They are SHIT!

Hana and I talked about it and will put up signages and leaflets in the dataran Frinjan (i think this was the place the mat rempit saw me and followed me) and at the spot where I got molested (which another ironic thing, was the same place the police stopped me a few days ago). Maybe banner dropping, leaflets, and graffiti are the options we can take. Psychologically, there in this soft spot, had scar.

Community support!?

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh SIAL!

I screamed at them but they sprinted away with laughter and throttled loud their success leaving me on the road fumed by their fossil fuel smoke.

I HATE POWER TRIPPING MAT REMPITS! ARSEHOLES!!!!