A Different Sky (58 page)

‘She's there. I saw her,' Little Sparrow screamed, preparing to jump down from the wall.

‘You can't get to her – and look: something new is happening,' Mei Lan said. She held on to Little Sparrow.

Things had suddenly quietened: a boy was now talking to the police. Soon, the empty trucks they had seen in Clemenceau Avenue appeared and drew to a noisy halt behind the crowd of onlookers. The students were filing away from the railings in an orderly manner, the girls no longer yelling harridans and the boys defiant but subdued. The crowd parted to make way for them and police helped them into the trucks.

‘Where is she?' Little Sparrow shouted. Jumping off the wall, she battled through the crowd trying to reach the trucks but eventually came up against a cordon of police who refused to let her pass.

‘Where are you taking them?' Little Sparrow screamed as the lorries started up and began driving off with their cargo of uniformed schoolchildren. A Sikh officer appeared and asked Little Sparrow to control her violent behaviour.

‘The students have requested to return to the Chung Cheng High School in the same trucks that brought them here. You can collect your child from the school. They are going peacefully of their own accord.' The policeman gave instructions in a loud voice to a crowd of anxious parents.

Mei Lan and Little Sparrow returned to their car and began the drive to Chung Cheng High School. When they arrived the trucks had already deposited the students. The school gate was shut and locked, and a group of schoolboys stood guard outside before a growing crowd of parents waiting to see what would happen next. Little Sparrow peered through the loose weave of a fence and saw a large playground filled with white-uniformed students.

‘We have orders not to open the gate,' the boy guards answered stubbornly.

‘I must see my daughter. She may be hurt,' Little Sparrow shouted, joining other parents in protest. One of the boys stood on a box to make an announcement.

‘The police have arrested forty-four of us. Twenty-six students have needed first aid, but there is nothing serious. Everyone else is all right.' The boy stared apprehensively at the hundreds of parents pressing about him.

‘How many of you have locked yourselves in the school?' a father shouted.

‘We are two thousand,' the boy replied.

‘What are you going to do?' another parent asked.

‘We are camping here until the National Service Ordinance is abolished,' a different boy answered.

‘That is nonsense. You might wait for ever!' someone shouted.

‘The service is only a few days a year. Just do it and get it over with. Why make all this fuss for just a few days?' a woman suggested.

‘The colonial power calls us “aliens”. They give Chinese educated
in English-medium schools their citizenship, but we Chinese educated in the Chinese vernacular schools are shunned; we cannot claim citizenship, political rights or get jobs. We cannot practise law or medicine or qualify for any post in government service. We are forced to live in a separate world, a lower-class world; we are not included in the life of the colony. Why should we do their National Service even for one day?' The boy spoke angrily and his fellow guards at the gate shouted agreement.

‘We will fight only for China,' the boy yelled, raising a clenched fist to the crowd.

‘How will you eat in there?' Little Sparrow demanded fiercely, more interested in practicalities.

‘We're agreed that parents can bring us food, but it must be deposited here with us at the gate,' the boy replied in a more conciliatory tone.

W
HEN
M
EI
L
AN CAME
out of the courtroom reporters were waiting for her. The trial had caught the interest of the press. She had taken the case to prove a point: to bring about public awareness of the plight of women like Ei Ling; to her surprise she had won. The verdict set a precedent and was life changing, for both herself and for Ei Ling.

‘What made you take the case, Miss Lim?' A young Indian reporter shouted. Courthouse smells of old wood and insect repellent pressed upon her; she was faint with relief that the trial was over.

‘The law that allows polygamous marriages needs to be changed; it is outrageous,' she replied, trying to walk forward as reporters surrounded her. The flash of photo bulbs was blinding, and she shielded her face with her hand.

‘What do you propose in the way of change, Miss Lim?' another reporter shouted.

‘A charter for women which will require marriages to be monogamous and provide for divorce, safeguard the rights of women and protect the family. A minimum age for marriage must also be set. Our Civil Marriage Act allows many marriages to take place outside its statutes, and so fails numerous women.' Mei Lan paused to speak to the reporters, seeing a chance to reiterate her views.

‘A lot of men will not like such a law. Do you think it can ever be passed?' someone called from the back of the crowd.

‘How many wives did your own grandfather have, Miss Lim?' the Indian shouted again.

‘Is it true you have taken no payment for defending the accused?' another voice asked.

‘My client is no longer accused of anything, she has been acquitted,' Mei Lan answered. Suddenly, Mr Cheong was at her side, fending off reporters and steering her into the judge's chambers.

‘Better wait here until they go away. Don't say too much; they just
want sensationalist news.' Mr Cheong shut the door firmly on the newsmen.

‘What is sensationalist about a woman wanting to escape abuse, and a mother wanting custody of her children?' Mei Lan snapped, and saw Mr Cheong frown.

‘You must be satisfied with making your mark with this case. Social change moves slowly. Things don't happen overnight.' Mr Cheong peered at her sternly from under bushy eyebrows. ‘You're making quite a name for yourself, you know. You are always in the newspapers.'

She had been called to the Bar in her barrister's robes and it had been an important occasion. Few women in Singapore had been called to the Bar, so newspapers covered the occasion. All this, with the added ingredient of her war experiences and family name, made her a person of public interest.

‘I didn't take the case to make my mark, I didn't expect to win,' Mei Lan replied. The helplessness of the prisoner, Ei Ling had incensed her enough to take any risk. Although Mr Cheong had not taken the husband's case, the man had found another lawyer to press charges of attempted murder against his wife. It had been a drawn-out case with unreliable bribed witnesses and much circumstantial evidence. In the end the judge had unexpectedly ruled in Ei Ling's favour, throwing out the case. He had also ordered the husband to return the two youngest children to her, providing she could prove she had the means to keep them.

‘You must never expect
not
to win. So much depends upon the judge and you were lucky enough to have a progressive minded man sitting for this case.' Mr Cheong poured a glass of water from a flask on the table and placed it before Mei Lan. She nodded and lifted it to her lips; she had not realised how thirsty she was, how much the last hours had taken out of her.

‘If I may give some further advice, it would be best not to offer your services again for free. It will be difficult to make much of a living if you are too altruistic. It is besides not a professional attitude,' Mr Cheong added.

‘There should be some sort of legal aid for people like Ei Ling,' Mei Lan replied defiantly. She had shocked everyone in the office by defending Ei Ling without charge.

‘Probably in time there will be such aid, but for now you cannot go
against the tide; you are a woman, not a man,' Mr Cheong answered with a warning frown.

‘I am aware of that; I should also be fighting for equal pay,' Mei Lan answered bitterly. Her daily workload was no less than that of the male lawyers at Bayley McDonald & Cheong, she was as well qualified as anyone, and yet her pay was half that of a man. Mr Cheong did not reply.

When the reporters had gone and Mei Lan left the room she was surprised to see Ei Ling sitting alone on a bench outside the court. Each day Ei Ling had been taken back to the prison, and Mei Lan was so wrapped up in presenting her defence that she had not thought beyond it.

‘You're free, you know. Do you have somewhere to go?' she asked. Ei Ling shook her head as Mei Lan sat down beside her. Mei Lan's life had been in stasis for so long, but by defending Ei Ling she had been forced into action, forced to summon up parts of herself she had almost forgotten. Ei Ling was drained of colour, thin as a waif.

‘My parents are dead. I have no family except my stepmother who is the one who married me to my husband.' Ei Ling spoke in a whisper, never raising her eyes from her hands. For a brief moment Mei Lan was filled with emotion and knew that, just as Nakamura's destructive force had dismantled her, Ei Ling too had been destroyed. Although so many years had passed, nightmares still woke her; she still took something to sleep each night, to bring blackness upon her. So much time had gone by. Nakamura was dead, hanged by the neck, and she had helped to condemn him with her evidence; she should be free of him.

Mei Lan's mind ran over the few places that might offer help to Ei Ling. She wondered if she should contact the Salvation Army or even the Po Leung Kuk, a government refuge for prostitutes, but quickly decided against this. Wherever Ei Ling went she would have to work, and would have no one to look after her children; they could end up in an orphanage and Ei Ling might yet be forced into prostitution. Mei Lan realised with a pang of guilt that if she had been standing on a precipice before a bottomless drop, the woman could not have appeared more terrified. Mei Lan had been so wrapped up in her own role in the case that its implications for Ei Ling had bypassed her.

‘Whatever he did to me, I had a home. Even prison is somewhere to live,' Ei Ling whispered. Mei Lan heard the slight resentment in her tone and realised in further distress that freedom placed the woman on a confusing trajectory. She thought again of how easily Ei Ling might be forced into prostitution and abandonment of her children.

‘You had better come home with me until I can find a place for you,' Mei Lan said reluctantly, regretting the words even as she spoke but seeing no other way, feeling her responsibility.

Ah Siew was not pleased at the appearance of Ei Ling. The woman trailed behind Mei Lan, wan and undernourished, and stood awkwardly inside the door.

‘What are we to do with her? ‘Ah Siew asked loudly, making sure Ei Ling could hear.

‘We shall see,' Mei Lan answered, not wishing Ah Siew to know how much she already regretted her action. Ei Ling, thin as a stray cat, stared at her appealingly, dependent now upon her.

That night Mei Lan lay staring up at the turning fan, listening to its protesting creak and thinking about Ei Ling. How could she support the weight of someone else's needs when already it was too much to carry her own? She tossed about in agitation, her emotions in turmoil. That evening Ah Siew relayed some gossip picked up from across the canal: Howard had at last returned from Australia. The thought of him settled in Belvedere once again filled Mei Lan with alarm.

Greta came home eventually after the school sit-in with her head cocked defiantly, her long plaits gone.

‘Who has cut off your hair?' Little Sparrow screamed.

‘Lots of girls cut their hair. Short hair is the fashion in the Party,' Greta replied, observing her mother from beneath a fringe hacked off too short with a knife. With her new helmet of hair and eyes that glittered rebelliously, she was transformed into a formidable warrior. Little Sparrow stepped back in confusion.

‘We disbanded only because the Chinese Chamber of Commerce promised to take up our case with the government,' Greta growled.

‘Why are you so worried about National Service? You're not a boy; you will only get married.' Little Sparrow was unable to make any sense of it.

‘It's a new age, a new world order. I will never get married, and women are now equal to men,' Greta informed her mother.

Over the next weeks the fight with the students went on. In schools, committees were formed to agitate for the release of arrested comrades and for the unconditional right
not
to serve Queen and Country. Three thousand students from the eight Chinese Middle Schools once again barricaded themselves into Chung Cheng High School and refused to leave until exemption from National Service was granted. When this did not work, other long camp-ins took place, one lasting twenty-three days, supported by thousands of Middle School students who organised their own lessons and sports.

‘You have been shut up with boys overnight. Who will marry you now?' Little Sparrow wailed after yet another sit-in.

‘We do not indulge in corrupt bourgeois behaviour,' Greta replied scathingly. From outside there was the honking of a car horn. Greta looked up and rushed immediately to the window.

‘Where are you going?' Little Sparrow ran uselessly after her daughter, who dashed out of the front door towards a waiting car filled with young people.

‘We are going to see Mr Lee the lawyer; he will represent us, get our friends out of jail,' Greta replied over her shoulder as she disappeared through the door. Little Sparrow at once took a taxi to Bougainvillaea House.

‘Who is this Mr Lee?' Little Sparrow yelled at Mei Lan when she returned from work.

‘He is legal adviser to a number of trade unions,' Mei Lan replied.

‘What are trade unions?' Little Sparrow asked, with a loud sob of distress.

Little Sparrow sat in the darkening room, her feet stretched out in front of her. Once again Greta had not returned and Little Sparrow wondered resignedly if there had been another sit-in at school. This seemed to be all pupils did in school nowadays: protest, run wild, sit in. One sit-in seemed to end as another took shape. A perplexed government had already backed down and postponed National Service, caving in to the students' demand for the release of those arrested. Parents were helpless and without control. The government retaliated by closing all schools.