JULY 23 — Kitty Genovese comes to mind reading the news about Velmurugan, female J and male D at the Appeals Court yesterday. Sadness also prevails on days like these. 

Three of them denied the right to be Malaysian despite being born here, raised here.

Velmurugan endures the ignominy of his entire extended family having Mykad minus him. His wife and kids are Malaysians. Because his late mum’s documentation was inconclusive and by extension his too, the 38-year-old lives without a country to call his own. 

Female J’s Indonesian mum’s whereabouts are unknown. As are male D’s Filipino mum’s. J is 30 years of age, while D is two years younger. Both have Malaysian fathers proven by DNA tests. 

There are lengthy explanations involving the Constitution, the policies of the National Registration Department (NRD) and documentation trails, not to mention that in the case of J and D, Indonesia and Philippines have confirmed their non-origin from the two republics. 

Every party involved in the determination of the trio’s fates have presented reasons why they cannot let it happen. To let them become Malaysians. Conditions are not met, the curt riposte. Their hands are tied, they'd claim. 

Segue to a distressing old incident

Miss Genovese’s rape and murder in 1964 did not only horrify New York City, it inspired psychologists John Darley and Bibb Latané to define bystander effect and diffusion of responsibility. 

Perpetrator Winston Moseley stabbed her after 3am just outside her residence. Someone screamed nearby and he retreated. 

But when nothing transpired he returned and assaulted her sexually before killing her. Start to end was 35 minutes and no one intervened.

There were many people around but each of them from their units felt someone else would step in. 

Someone else will save the lady’s life. No one did. Because everyone was expecting someone to do something. That’s the bystander effect. If others can help, let’s just wait and see “these others” help. 

Since there are so many potential helpers, so many with the capacity to aid, the responsibility is diffused to the many. 

If you were the only person in a dark alley and witnessed one individual attacking another person you are likely to get involved. 

But if the same attack played out in a large crowded hall, many look at each other for action. The onus to act is organically distributed to those present, and inaction may prevail. 

We humans tend to look to each other, hoping one of us is better enough to act. 

Not that we do not recognise evil but feel others can fight the devil for us. 

In the Genovese case, after the initial media furore and the far-reaching impact it had as a teaching tool, detractors pointed out that saying 38 people failed to act was faulty.

Thirty-eight people were within earshot in the residential area but it was in the wee hours and a fair number were asleep. Those who woke up may have been uncertain what was transpiring outside. 

The rebuttal was that conditions restricted the number of people we can reasonably expect to react. Early hours, in the dark and doubt shrouded the situation. 

No one told us

The fates which befell Velmurugan, female J and male D, has struck many stateless Malaysians. By many, it goes to the thousands. 

If all the members of Parliament — Dewan Rakyat and Senate — the senior judges of Malaysia, and the Cabinet were made to sit in a hall and a short video of the lives of the stateless was played, hardly anyone would feel indifferent about the pain, isolation and emotional turmoil lived by the victims. 

Stateless people are victims regardless of their own complicity in their circumstances. 

Most might squirm in their seats. 

Some may cry. 

Those people with power, those who decide where the country goes, they’d be affected by the anguish just like regular folks. 

Despite the horrendous space called the Internet comment sections, Malaysians are kind. The potential for kindness here is world class even if politicians seek to trigger many to hate. 

Maybe like the night Genovese died, many Malaysians today are unaware. 

They are asleep, unsure what is happening in the courts, hear the noise but cannot decipher the what, who, when, why and how? 

They do not fear to act, they just do not know. Perhaps. 

But the focus is on the powerful in the country. Those who decide. 

In the case of the trio, all branches of government would have been approached — their MPs, the various ministers including the prime minister, and the courts. 

Those approached most assuredly point to the limitations.   

But they forget, while they lament their own limitations, a killing continues. 

The three of them — and all home-born stateless folks — die a little every day. 

It’s female J and male D, for the court wanted to protect them. I am fairly confident J and D do not feel altogether protected. 

Those in their lives, their bosses, their locality, most would be cognisant of their predicaments. J and D live the stigma wherever they are.  

Every opportunity they let go because of a situation they did nothing to be in, chips away their life force. 

This situation is an excellent example to illustrate why the progressives bleed support in the elections around the country. 

Their opponents care less about these individuals, even if they have sympathy for these victims. Their voters do not factor here because they are not progressive voters. 

For the home minister and the prime minister, the self-declared progressives, them cowering behind valid excuses do not bode well. Their voters are disappointed. 

When you are a progressive, it helps to behave progressively. 

It was impossible for the trio, Velmurugan, J and D to be saved under the conservatives when they led the country. But when they cannot be saved by the progressives in charge today, the grief crescendos into an almighty wail to silence the banshees.  

I feel ashamed and I am a nobody. It is about time those who are somebody step up before they have no power to save even themselves. 

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.