The
Maria Hertogh case in December 1950 sparked off
racial riots throughout Singapore. Those were chaotic
days. I remember being in the thick of some of those
riots.
In one incident, my
editor had assigned me to cover some racial incident,
and I was in the car with a photographer. The streets
were crowded, there were so many people milling about
in those chaotic days, and our car was stuck. We
could not drive on.

All of a sudden, we
were stopped by a young boy, aged about 14, holding a
big stick or pole. He grabbed and pulled my hand out
of the window, and seemed to be examining my skin
colour. I think he wanted to see if I was a Eurasian
or an Indian, because they were attacking Eurasians
at that time.
I think if I was
Eurasian, he would have hammered me, but I told him,
I'm an Indian, not a Eurasian, you know. He let me
go.
But I remember there
was a barrister and municipal commissioner, a Mr
Patrick Johnson, who was almost killed in a racial
riot. After he was assaulted, he was taken to
hospital, and when he recovered, he left Singapore.
He didn't want to stay in Singapore anymore.
Once, I went over to
the area near Sultan Mosque. I found a line of Gurkha
soldiers, an army officer and a police officer. There
was a crowd of Muslims at the other end of the road.
I turned into the five-foot-way at the corner and
stood behind a pillar, watching what was going on. A
Chinese boy was standing near me.

Suddenly, the group of
Muslims came towards us. Then the Gurkha soldiers
started opening fire. One of them came around the
pillar near where I was standing and started aiming
at me.
I knew the Gurkha
soldiers were Hindus, so I immediately put up my
hands like this -- in a praying fashion -- and bowed
down to him to show them that I was a Hindu, too. If
they were Hindus, I knew they would not shoot me --
true enough, they did not fire at me.
But the Chinese boy
next to me was hit in his foot. I was shocked, and I
just stood there looking. The army officer ordered
them to stop firing. I went to a nearby shop and rang
the office.
It was day time, maybe
before 11 o'clock, because The Straits Times was not
working at that time, but the Singapore Free Press
was an afternoon paper. So I told the editor what had
happened, and the story came out, with the byline:
Sivadas, reporting from the frontline.
I wasn't afraid to go
there. I was only afraid at that moment when this man
suddenly came round the pillar and aimed his gun at
me. 
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