by Dr Rahim Said
Seriously, what does it matter how you dress as long as you pay your taxes? If you’re settling your dues with the Inland Revenue Board (IRB), you’re already doing more for the country than half the politicians lecturing you about morality.
Yet here we are, once again debating hemlines, sleeve lengths, and the catastrophic implications of showing — brace yourself — your knees.
Sarawak rights activist Peter John Jaban has now stepped in to remind the nation of something we should not need reminding of in 2025: taxpayers are not schoolchildren. And government counters are not Sunday school.
The IRB’s latest fashion-policing episode in Miri is not merely a wardrobe malfunction by an overzealous officer; it is symptomatic of a creeping phenomenon — Peninsular-grown moral policing exported, unsolicited, to Sarawak.
And Sarawakians, being the hospitable but not gullible people they are, are not amused.
A Tale of Two Malaysias: Fashion Edition
Peter calls it “cultural arrogance.” He’s being polite. It is moral imperialism disguised as dress code enforcement, the kind of misplaced righteousness usually reserved for Facebook aunties who correct your grammar and your life choices simultaneously.
Sarawak has 34 ethnic groups, each with its own norms, traditions, and everyday attire. If the national dress-code brigades had their way, some of those traditional outfits would probably be banned for being sleeveless, off-shoulder, or too “rural chic.”
Imagine telling a Kelabit elder in Bario that she can’t collect her pension because her kain tenun doesn’t meet Putrajaya’s fashion checklist. It would be farce if it weren’t already reality-adjacent.
Government Counters: Now with Bonus Humiliation
Peter rightly points out that IRB is not alone. The Road Transport Department, police, Companies Commission —even hospitals — have all turned public service counters into catwalk audition checkpoints.
If you’re a sick patient crawling into an emergency room, congratulations: you may get triaged based on your clavicle exposure.
These dress codes have no legal basis. None. Zero. Nada. Not in the statute books, not in the Federal Constitution, not even in the IRB’s own mission statement (which, last I checked, was about collecting taxes, not curating a modesty museum).
Yet Malaysians — many already juggling rising costs, stagnant wages, and a political circus — are expected to dress to impress for a basic government service they already paid for through their taxes.
The Real Question: Who Gave Bureaucrats the Fashion Police Badge?
Let’s be honest: this obsession with attire is less about “decency” and more about a fragile insecurity wrapped in moral theatrics. It’s the bureaucratic equivalent of shouting “respect me!” while simultaneously denying the public the respect they deserve.
We’ve normalised the absurd idea that a citizen’s clothing reflects their morality, while completely ignoring that some of the most impeccably dressed individuals in this country are currently facing court charges, or have impeccable collections of Hermes handbags purchased with public funds.
If the IRB really wants to enforce decency, perhaps start by ensuring taxpayers’ money isn’t used to buy jewellery or fund Mediterranean shopping trips—not policing the dress code of someone trying to settle their tax instalment plan.
Sarawak’s Message: We Like Unity, Not Uniformity
Sarawak’s multiculturalism is not ornamental—it’s lived. You cannot impose a one-size-fits-all “proper attire” on a society whose cultural wardrobe ranges from Iban ceremonial wear to Chinese cheongsams to Bidayuh beadwork to Kadayan casuals.
Expecting Sarawakians to conform to West Malaysian moral aesthetics is not just tone-deaf — it’s colonial in spirit.
Peter John Jaban is not merely complaining; he’s warning.
Today it’s dress codes at the IRB. Tomorrow — what? Policing hairstyles? Policing traditional costumes? Requiring government-approved sarongs before entering a clinic?
Sarawak has made it clear: they will not be morally micromanaged by anyone — federal, state, or otherwise.
Bottom Line: Just Let Malaysians Live
If a citizen shows up at a government office in shorts, slippers, or a T-shirt that offends your personal sensibilities, here’s the correct response:
Process their application.
Stamp their form.
Collect their tax.
Because the only outfit that should matter to the IRB is the one you wear to your own audit.
Everything else? Fashionably irrelevant.
The views expressed here are entirely those of the author
WE