By Dr Rahim Said
If you were at Pantai Klebang last weekend, you probably went home sunburnt, sandy, and — if you were lucky — RM100 richer.
All thanks to a mysterious man on a stage urging beachgoers to wave at him in exchange for cash.
Yes, in Malaysia, even the beach breeze carries the scent of political theatre.
The viral 20-second video shows a cheerful Datuk Salim Abdul Rahman — apparently a TikTok millionaire with a username straight out of a fantasy novel, @ds_sultanpemurah68—handing out RM100 notes like he’s throwing rice at a wedding. No context provided. No explanation. Just: “Wave at me, and I shall bless thee.”
Standing right next to him? Hulu Langat MP Mohd Sany Hamzan, reminding people not to collect the RM100 twice. Very noble. Very civic. Very… interesting.
Yet if you read the reports, you’ll notice something glaring: nobody seems interested in telling us what actually happened.
Why was a Selangor MP at a Melaka beach?
Why is a businessman suddenly in the mood to play Santa Claus in December’s prequel season?
Why RM100? Why Klebang? Why waving?
Malaysian news articles, as always, perform Olympic-level gymnastics to avoid asking the obvious questions.
Instead, they simply narrated the scene like it was a wildlife documentary: “Here we observe humans waving enthusiastically at an alpha male dispensing currency.”
Of course, social media did the real journalism—by providing the only Malaysian analysis that matters: pure, unfiltered sarcasm.
Some praised Datuk Salim’s generosity.
Some asked whether this was an early Christmas giveaway, a TikTok stunt, a pre-election warm-up, or a scientific study on how fast Malaysians will wave for RM100.
However, a few asked if this is the new method for poverty alleviation — wave-based welfare distribution.
But here’s the real puzzle:
Why doesn’t anyone bother to ask what the purpose actually was?
Was it charity?
Was it content creation?
Was it political positioning?
Was it just a man flexing his bank account on a Saturday?
Our media reported the whole thing with the detail of a blur photo. Not even a single line like, “We attempted to contact Datuk Salim for clarification.” Instead, they celebrated the mystery, leaving the rest of us to fill in the blanks with imagination and caffeine.
Meanwhile, Malaysia continues to treat transparency like a taboo.
A public figure gives out cash in front of an MP — and our newspapers simply shrug and say: “Video viral. Netizens comment. That’s the article.”
In a country where everything from rice subsidies to GLC appointments is wrapped in layers of opaque explanations, perhaps this is just the latest symptom of our national disease: Don’t ask why. Just watch, wave, and wait for the next viral episode.
Still, if Datuk Salim is serious about this hobby, he might consider expanding his philanthropic waving tour. Batu Ferringhi could use him. Desaru might welcome him. Even KL traffic jams could be improved — just stand on an overhead bridge and toss RM100 notes every time a driver signals.
Until then, Melaka beachgoers can proudly say they participated in Malaysia’s most transparent public programme: you wave, you get money.
No paperwork.
No MyKad scanning.
No “permohonan ditolak”.
Of course, we still don’t know why this happened.
But in Malaysia, that’s perfectly normal.
The mystery is the news. The questions are the entertainment. And the explanations?
Well… those are optional.
WE