WHEN borders around the world began slamming shut in the hopes of keeping the pandemic at bay, families who happened to be apart at the time found themselves separated by far more than just distance.
For those of us in long-distance relationships, whose “families” have not yet been formalised and thus have little to no legal protection, this meant that the chances of seeing our loved ones in the near future were bleak. Most were logistically, financially and above all, emotionally unprepared for a sudden and seemingly unequivocally forced separation.
Even the most pessimistic of people could not have expected their separation to last this long.
For Malaysians with foreign partners, the one avenue for reunification only became available around the fourth quarter of last year, via the MyTravelPass (MTP) application process.
The Love is not Tourism Facebook page quickly became the go-to resource page for hopefuls wanting to learn how others got their MTP applications approved – advice to attach documents, that ranged from formally written letters from both partners, pictures with each other’s families, screenshots of conversations, receipts for wedding ceremony bookings, six months’ worth of bank statements, and myriad other documents that help “prove” the relationship is genuine.
Much as the government’s policies and standard operating procedures for day-to-day life kept changing, so did the policy regarding who was allowed in on a compassionate basis, and who was not.
It certainly seemed that there were little nuances to the guidelines the immigration officers were using, which were constantly changing according to internal policies that no one could decipher.
What worked for someone did not work for another person in a similar situation who did the exact same thing. Some people got over 20 rejections, while others got approved on their first tries.
In general, it seemed like those who were already married, or engaged and could provide proof of wedding plans, had the highest rate of approvals. Those who were engaged or in relationships faced more uncertainty, but at the bottom of the totem pole were those with partners living in the 23 countries that Malaysia has barred for having more than 150,000 Covid-19 cases – a threshold Malaysia has already reached.
As someone with a partner from one of those 23 countries, every application sent via MTP was a prayer, and every rejection a weight on an already heavy heart.
Every time it seemed like it might have been possible to reunite, my partner would buy a flight ticket, and every time the movement control order (MCO) was extended, the flight would be cancelled, causing a new wave of despair and helplessness.
In the end, we were lucky enough to have been granted approval after a handful of tries, ending an excruciatingly painful year-long separation. Despite finally managing to get my partner back into the country and him serving the 10-day quarantine, a new battle has begun: to get all the paperwork required to register a marriage in Malaysia – a complex feat on its own, but made far more difficult when attempting to do so during the MCO.
This involves multiple trips to the National Registration Department, Palace of Justice, and Wisma Putra in Putrajaya, as well as to my partner’s embassy – most of which will only serve you if you have an appointment, as well as police permission to cross district borders.
These government agencies and bodies are currently working on a reduced staff; appointments are scarce and booked up weeks in advance. Documents issued by my partner’s embassy in his native language must be translated into Bahasa Malaysia, and the translated copy has to then be returned to the embassy to be certified, and to Wisma Putra to be attested, before it can be submitted to the government agencies.
Based on what the Foreign Spouses Support Group reports, even after finally managing to register our marriage, we’ll face an uphill battle with gaining a Long Term Social Visit Pass for my partner (if approved, he could be granted anything from six months to five years), his ability to be employed (allowed after a year of marriage, and only if certain conditions are met), permanent resident status (only after 10 years as opposed to just two years if I were a Malaysian man), and a whole host of paperwork to gain citizenship and rights for any future children we have.
As a Malaysian citizen who loves her country and wants to stay here, this feels terribly unjust. That I so happened to fall in love with someone who is not Malaysian should not mean that the members of my family are less deserving of rights.
While flattening the curve is extremely important and the government is right to be cautious with regards to public health and safety, the policies that they decree should be empathetic and compassionate towards everyone during these trying times.
It is also important to note that many of these restrictions and unfair policies have existed for years, and that the pandemic has merely exacerbated these issues and inequalities. – The Vibes, January 26, 2021
Thea is a friend of the Foreign Spouses Support Group – a volunteer-run organisation that provides support for Malaysians with foreign spouses locally and abroad
.jpg)
