By Dina Zaman
I like giving our politicians a break. Doesn’t matter which side they swing. Like many Malaysians, I too laugh at some of the pearls that dance out of their mouths. When this happens, it makes for a sunnier day, and then we all get on with our lives.
However, today’s gem which came out from Johor delegate Azura Mohd Afandi, who wanted the Information Ministry to curb television shows and commercials that could lead people astray from the right religious paths, really made me think that time around, (1) nothing can ever beat this statement and (2) that’s it. The people who are involved in politics have four screws loose.
“For example, commercials on sanitary pads are openly shown on TV and this could influence the young to get involved in social ills,” said Johor Bahru Puteri Umno member, urging the ministry to increase shows that teach good values and religious practices.
As a still menstruating woman, I have yet to witness how sanitary pads and their ads could lead one to sin. I have always thought that sanitary pads are a bane to women and frighten the hell out of men, especially bloody and wet ones. My first encounter with a sanitary pad advertisement came at the courtesy of a 1970s Female magazine, which touted Sanita Napkins as the purveyor of Malaysian Women’s Freedom. My sister, cousins and I had no clue what it was, and when we discovered the confounded thing in our mothers’ cupboards, we giggled and played with it. Our mothers’ bras were also a source of mirth, as we modelled in them while our mums went to work.
My second encounter was when I attended sekolah asrama, and from then on, I had a morbid love-hate relationship with sanitary pads. I had reached puberty far away from my mother’s care, and my school seniors all advised me (and my other school friends) that we had to WASH our pads until they were clean. If we didn’t the hantu pelesit would come at night and suck out the blood from the used pads, and we would all die.
Looking back, I think this could be one of the causes of my abysmal academic record when I was a teenager. All that washing addled my brains. When gel-based sanitary pads arrived, I was in heaven. I didn’t have to deal with pad laundry ever again.
Now, when I look at a sanitary pad ad, or a packet in the pharmacy, I am not compelled to sin. Rather, I think of the following: (1) length of pad because a woman does not want embarrassing stains and (2) make of pad. Scritchy scratchy ones might give a woman diaper rash.
And I can vouch that men, after watching such an ad, will not lead them to illicit behavior. In fact, they are scared of them. I have asked a boyfriend once to buy me a pack, and twice he came back with nothing because (a) he got confused with winged pads and non-winged pads (b) he didn’t want to look gay buying one (c) it was too bloody confusing. Light days? Heavy days? Night flow? What the hell?
The third time I asked him to help get one, he came back with maternity pads from the nearby tabib China. I gave up after that.
There are some things you cannot train a man to do.
From the Budget to this. Everyone had a field day on Twitter and Facebook. My friends were a riot as usual, and it was from one that I learned that tobacco absorbed blood really well, and it had natural antiseptic properties.
What kind of cigarettes would do the trick, I asked.
The Divine Ms. W replied, “Those that comes in packs, pure tobacco, not the Dunhills. Those are filled with paper.”
To which a journalist friend quipped, “New tagline for tobacco industry: Why light up when you can soak up?”
The conversation on Facebook went south after that.
Please, I beg you, dear politician of any stripe, please think before you say anything.
Here’s a video that I hope will kick off your weekend.