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Malaysia Today: Your source of independent news – Towering Malays and the ‘hush’ on Peace Hill

The bottom line is, either they get off my back or they throw me in jail and throw away the key. I could not be bothered one bit what it is going to be. I am prepared for the worst. My objective is plain and simple. Altantuya’s murderers are going to be sent to hell. And I don’t mind going to hell myself to see this happen.
Raja Petra Kamarudin

Sorry for not writing earlier. I know many of you must be anxiously waiting to hear what I have to say about yesterday’s episode at Bukit Aman. You know, of course, I no longer possess any computers and I don’t dare buy a new one lest they again come to my house and confiscate that one as well. So expect some delay between articles until I get back my computers.
They have already confiscated my computers three times since 2001 and although they are eventually returned many, many months later, the computers are all screwed up and can’t be used any longer.
What the hell do they do with these computers anyway? Anyhow, we will talk about this later. Before that I would like to talk about Malaysia’s car czar, the recently deceased Tan Sri Nasimuddin Amin.
Tan Sri Nasimuddin is being investigated by the UK Police (read: UK probe into dead tycoon’s business practices ). It seems his company, the Naza Group, has been forging documents so that brand new cars from the UK can be imported into Malaysia as used cars, or, as they are fond of saying, ‘recon’ cars.
The import duty for ‘recon’ cars would of course be far, far lower than that for brand new cars. Furthermore, there is a quota for the import of new cars. I think it is not more than 20% of the total cars sold or assembled in Malaysia (not sure which). No one really knows the real figure because many new cars are brought in as ‘old’ cars while Approved Permits (APs), which are issued according to the allowed quota, are cloned (read as ‘forged’) so the actual (unofficial) new car imports are certainly higher than the official figures.
It is sad that the UK government is only now investigating this matter. It is sad for two reasons. Firstly, two days ago, Tan Sri Nasimuddin died of cancer in the US so now, instead of being remembered as a Towering Malay, he is going to go down in history as the greatest Malay scammer. Secondly, this scam has been going on since the last 30 years and billions of Ringgit in tax evasion and fraudulent imports has passed through the pockets of the AP holders. This is like trying to lock the stable door after the horse has bolted, or, in Tan Sri Nasimuddin’s case, after the horse has died.
APs have always been a very hot and very saleable commodity since the mid-1970s. Even back in the early 1980s, that is 26 or so years ago, I had to pay RM20,000 for an AP from Pantai Motors, one of the AP holders cum car importers. I had imported a Mercedes Benz 190E for my wife but did not have an AP so I approached Pantai Motors and they offered to sell me an AP for RM40,000. After some heavy negotiations, and considering we are ‘friends’, they agreed to sell the AP to me for half price, RM20,000.
Today, the APs can still fetch a price of RM50,000. And rest assured that the cost of this AP is added to the price of the car even if you buy the car from the AP holder. With the tax ‘savings’ included, a RM250,000 imported car can easily give the AP holder cum car importer a RM150,000 profit. RM150,000 profit is no small matter when you can sell tens of thousands of cars a month. So we are talking about billions in profit every year.
As I said, the real import and profit figures are unknown. We have the new cars imported as second-hand cars — so they pay a very low import duty — while the cars are sold as new with the real (what should be paid but is not paid) import duty added to the price. Then we have the forged or cloned APs where the same AP is recycled and used over and over again. When we say they are printing money this is no longer metaphorically speaking. APs translate to money and they have been printing APs like there is no tomorrow.
Yes, we should be proud of these Towering Malays. From humble beginnings they are now able to fly from their homes to their offices in helicopters. The rest of us have to get caught in the traffic jams and arrive late for our appointments. Even Chinese businessmen can’t afford to fly around Kuala Lumpur in their private helicopters.
This, of course, can’t be possible unless the Trade Ministry (the Trade Minister included), the Customs Department (close one eye to the shady documents) and the Road Transport Department (close both eyes to the fact that the documents say ‘used’ but the cars scream ‘new’), etc., are part of the syndicate.
What is the common denominator to this entire syndicate? Yes, that’s right, they are all Towering Malays. I wish I could day that Samy Vellu and the Ong Brothers are also involved but unfortunately I can’t. The entire band of slimeballs and scumbags are mosque-going, pray five times a day, fast 30 days a year, and go to Mekah every year, Malays.
And that is what is most sad about this whole thing. These Malays who would eat no pork and who would condemn Malays who drink beer are slurping swill like the true pigs that they are.
Oops…..I hope this statement is not seditious. It seems if I write something that will make people hate other people this is considered seditious and a crime under Malaysia’s Sedition Act. Well, let me share a little secret with you. God, too, hates munafik and fasik people so there is no sin in you also hating them. And God does not recognise unjust man-made laws. So, while the Malaysian government will send you to jail, God will compensate you for this unjust in the next life. And as Tan Sri Nasimuddin has just discovered, the next life could actually be nearer than you think.
Since we are now on the subject of Malaysia’s Sedition Act, yesterday was my fourth visit to the powers-that-be to answer to a charge of sedition. The first time was in March 2001, again in late 2004 with regards to my article on the Yam Tuan Besar of Negeri Sembilan, the third time last year after Muhammad son of Muhammad made that police report against me, and yesterday, with regards to my article on the murder of Altantuya. Earlier they had come to my house to confiscate my computers.
The police officer told me that a police report had been made against me but when I asked to see a copy of the police report they could not produce it. The police officer walked around the room pondering what to do and then sat down again and said he does not know where the police report is. In fact, he had never even seen it.
I then told the police officer that I too had made a police report against the CID Director, Bakri Zinin, after he assaulted me in March 2001. What happened to that police report, I asked him, and why was nothing done about it?
He replied that he does not know anything about that police report and I told him that we are not going to discuss this new police report made against me until we first settle the matter of the police report that I made in March 2001. That was seven years ago, I said, and nothing has been done about it. I do not wish to talk about a police report made against me just a few days ago.
I then asked under what section is my statement going to be taken. Is it under Section 112? When the police officer replied ‘yes’, I then asked him whether he was going to read me my rights under this cautioned statement? Before he could reply I replied, “Never mind. Let me teach you some law. Let me tell you the terms and conditions of Section 112.” By then my lawyer, YB William Leong, looked rather lost. He had absolutely no idea where this whole thing was leading to.
“Under Section 112, I must reply to all questions, right?” The police officer nodded and I shot back with, “Well, I refuse to make any statement.” He gave me a blank look so I repeated, “I am not going to make a statement. I refuse to make a statement.”
I saw the police officer’s mouth open as if he wanted to say something but the words just seemed to elude him. “Look,” I said, “Under Section 112, I can’t refuse to make a statement. If I do then you have to arrest me. So arrest me now.”
By now he was completely disoriented and did not know how to react. “No, we are not like that,” he said. “We don’t want to arrest you. We just want to record your statement.”
“Well, I refuse to give my statement so it is now your duty to arrest me. That is your job. If you don’t arrest me your boss will fuck you. So arrest me now.” I held out my arms so that he could cuff them.
The police officer gave a very nervous laugh and looked at YB William with a ‘please help me out’ look on his face. YB William shrugged his shoulders and pointed to me in a ‘that is between you and him, I am not involved’ gesture.
“You are not giving me any alternative,” lamented the police officer.
“Hey, don’t say that. I am giving you an alternative. We can either both walk out of here and I will buy you a beer or you can throw me in the lockup. This is Friday evening so I will not be brought before a magistrate until Monday morning. That means you have me for two whole nights.”
“I don’t drink,” the police officer replied.
“What? You don’t smoke and don’t drink? What’s become of the Malaysian police force? It has certainly gone downhill from the old days. What sins do you have anyway? You must have at least one.”
“I think his sin must be that other one,” YB William butted in with a twinkle in his eyes, the first sound he had made in all that time.
“No, no, that one also no,” the police officer quickly clarified lest he receive an invitation to adjourn to Jalan Alor for some merriment.
“Look,” I said. “You either arrest me or else in five minutes I am going to stand up and walk out of here. Once I walk out of here I do not want to see your face again. I tak mahu tengok muka you lagi. Either arrest me or leave me alone for the rest of my life. Don’t disturb me anymore. And if you come to my house again I will refuse to open the door. You will have to shoot the door down to get into my house.”
“No lah. Don’t talk like that. I just have to take your statement, that’s all, or else my boss will screw me.”
“Okay, I don’t want your boss to fuck you. You look like a nice guy and we Raja must support each other (yes, the police officer was an Indian named Raja). So I will give you five minutes to go talk to your boss to ask him what you should do while I go smoke a cigarette. In five minutes I am out of here and you will never see me again.”
Raja put me in the ‘smoking’ area of the office while he went to see his boss. In a short while another three police officers joined us and we went through the entire process again for the next two hours. Eventually they had no choice but to let me walk out of Bukit Aman without recording my statement.
Rest assured, though, this is not the end yet. They will be coming back for round two so we shall have to see what round two is going to be before we decide what is going to happen. The bottom line is, either they get off my back or they throw me in jail and throw away the key. I could not be bothered one bit what it is going to be. I am prepared for the worst. My objective is plain and simple. Altantuya’s murderers are going to be sent to hell. And I don’t mind going to hell myself to see this happen.
Good night, Bukit Aman, wherever you are.
Signing off, Raja Petra, now operating from a cyber café……sigh.

Malaysia Today: Your source of independent news – Towering Malays and the ‘hush’ on Peace Hill


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