Rubbish clogging a back lane drain in Kuching.
KUCHING is a lovely city. The roadsides are planted up with flowering shrubs. Big and little parks dot the residential areas. You could say Kuching is a clean city too, where rubbish is collected regularly and each household has a big green bin.
So does everybody use the bin? Sad to say, no. There are welts of rubbish along the roads, behind shophouses, on the sidewalk, in the drains. Half-eaten food, packages, wrappings, bottles, you name it – it’s there. The latest addition would be face masks. Protect your health, wear a mask. Then chuck it on the ground or in a drain. And when the next rain storm comes and the drains overflow, blame ‘the authorities’.
There’s a lot I don’t get about rubbishers, but I know they are out there in huge numbers. So I conducted a scientific study to classify them. It is, like many scientific studies, not of very much practical use. But you might like to be forewarned. Know your rubbishers!
Here’s the classification:
Big Bad Rubbisher throws all household refuse into a river or creek – including worn-out mattresses, rusty bicycles, electrical appliances that are beyond repair, the occasional dead dog or cat.
The Nobody-Saw-Me Rubbisher chucks plastic bags full of half-eaten tapau meals out of the car. Aiming for the drain possibly; usually misses.
The Not-My-Rubbisher keeps his own compound clean by throwing refuse, from chicken guts to broken toys, into his neighbour’s garden.
The People’s Co-operative Rubbisher has found a quiet spot for dumping. Once stuff accumulates, the site acquires squatting rights, so everybody can throw their rubbish there.
The Hygienic Rubbisher considers an empty drink box, snack pouch, water bottle, cigarette packet to be dirty as soon as he’s finished with it. He drops it wherever he may be, on grounds of hygiene. Never know what disease you might pick up if you carried an empty beer can to the next rubbish bin!
The Fastidious Rubbisher is responsible for the long-dump along our roads. Very car-proud, and would never allow rubbish of any sort in the car! So chuck it out of the window.
It’s not a new problem, as we all know. People threw rubbish indiscriminately in 1950, they still throw rubbish indiscriminately in 2020, and I foresee that they will continue to do so. I wrote the little sketch below some 20 years ago, in the hope that people would read it, sit up, and mend their wicked ways. They’ve done nothing of the sort. But I rather enjoyed writing the story, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading it.
“And what did the teacher tell you today, my dears?” the mother asked as she put the car into gear.
The twins in the back seat spoke up at once:
“She told us to …”
“She told us not to …”
“Mummy, I want to tell you. Tell Timmy to keep quiet!”
“Mummy, Tammy never lets me talk!”
“She said about keeping our nation clean!” Tammy shouted triumphantly, “and the water must be kept clean or else all the fish will die …”
“And the air must be kept clean or else the birds will die!” her brother put in, raising his voice, “and if we dirty the country everybody will get sick.”
“And die!” Tammy added with satisfaction.
“She never said that!”
“Did so!”
“Did not!”
“Did so! She said the white lives will die!”
“The what lives, my dear?”
“Wildlives! Wildlives!” Timmy chanted, bouncing up and down in the seat to make his point.
“Wawwie! Timmy bang me!” the baby piped up, woken from his noonday doze. “Wawwie! I want a dwwinkie!”
The mother sighed. The drive from school was only 20 minutes. Lunch stood ready on the kitchen table. Did they really have to snack on the way home? Needless to say, clean nations and wildlives were forgotten once drinkies had been mentioned.
“Mummy, I want a dwinkie too!”
“It’s DRINKIE! You talk like a baby, Tam.”
“Baby yourself! It’s PACKET DRINK.”
Timmy let his sister parade her superior education while he rummaged in the shopping bag on the floor. Sure enough, there were packets of drinkies, nutties, flakies, and crumbsels. The three children started to suck, rustle, and crunch. Silence reigned for a few blissful minutes.
“Teacher said farmers must keep their goats and chickens in clean little houses,” Tamara declared.
“And tourists mustn’t throw dirty stuff in waterfalls,” her brother added.
“And the dirty people are making a hole in the sky.”
“I think she meant the ozone hole, dear,” their mother mildly suggested. “That’s from too much gas,” and she accelerated to take the little rise after the roundabout.
“No, she didn’t say about gas,” Tammy demurred.
“They can always use letrick,” Timothy suggested helpfully. He had finished his drink, and tossed the packet on the floor so he could use both hands to deal with a sachet of nuts.
“Timmy! I saw that!” his mother admonished him from the rear vision mirror. “Don’t throw rubbish in mummy’s nice new car! You are the one to talk about clean goat houses …”
“That was Tam!” he said sulkily, but bent down for the offending article. His mother pushed a button to open the window a couple of inches.
“Quick, throw it out! And the others too! You must always keep your things nice and clean, do you hear! It’s all very well to talk about wildlives, and ozone holes, but you must learn to keep yourself and your own things clean first.”
Timothy threw the empty drink, nut, crumb, and flake packets out of the car as instructed. His mother wound up the window and continued her lecture on cleanliness.
Baby had dozed off again. Tammy and Timmy kicked each other from time to time, but their hearts weren’t really in it. They were tired and wanted to get home. They would have lunch, a shower and a nap. After that they were going to do their homework: draw a big colourful picture, and write five sentences about ‘How To Keep Our Nation Clean’.
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