People weep openly at the Semenyih detention camp. In fact, emotions in their myriad forms are expressed unabashedly. There are the Indonesian workers left in the lurch by their agents, women from across the border who were embroiled in the sex trade and others in their own private hell.

It was only some weeks earlier that WAO social workers were there visiting Loong, a 21-year-old who needed some assistance in getting some documents together in order for her to get back home. Getting there was a literal journey in parts. The process often laborious and tedious.

Firstly, there was the hour-long drive followed by the waiting to get in, as only 35 passes are issued at any one time. Once in, visitors are allowed to stay on for only 30 minutes before it's time for the next batch to make their way to the waiting area. And so it was with us.

After waiting for another hour to get our passes, we made our way up the slightly hilly and very dusty path to the waiting area. The walk was somewhat daunting to say the least. We were flanked by a dirt road to our right and the detention dorms on our left.

The detainees were literally caged in and it was almost heart wrenching to see the mostly male inmates clutching at the wise mesh fencing, trying to get our attention. Once there, we had to queue up to submit some forms requesting to meet with Loong.

We then proceeded to a police station within the grounds to submit another form. Some more waiting followed this - another hour to be exact before we actually met with the young lady.

While the police personnel in charge or on duty that day were congenial enough, it must also be said that there is a lot that can be done to increase efficiency - especially with regards to expediting the visiting process.

The time finally arrived when we got to meet Loong, who has just only given birth to a baby boy she named David.

It was a truly humbling experience to see her in high spirits and looking well in spite of the less than comfortable surroundings. Conversing in halting Bahasa Malaysia, Loong proudly showed David off and beamed when told he has her nose and chin.

During this time, there were about 20 other detainees who were let out to meet with their employers, friends and family members.

A conversation between a husband and a wife is overheard. He asks her to bring him ointment on her next visit, as his joints are hurting. Then there are the three Indian nationals who are visited by a friend. A hand phone is passed from one to the other and they speak animatedly with frenetic hand gestures and intense facial expressions.

When the conversation is over, the friend asks one of the three what should be brought during the next visit, "An extra phone card," came the quick reply. By this time, the 30 minutes is up. The police personnel are quick to round up the detainees, leaving the visitors little time to say their farewells.

Loong is looking pleased. She is reassured that there are sincere parties who are going to help her and her baby return home as legal citizens of their country - no longer undocumented and displaced individuals.

As for Loong, when asked if she would like anything during a next visit, she politely declines; although we already know what it is - a passport and a plane ticket perhaps. Surely, a small price to pay for freedom.

And so we make our way down the dusty path and we see a group of women playing catch in the caged area. When was the last time you did something like that? When was the last time you laugh heartily and didn't care who was looking at you? When was the last time you felt that free? Ironic isn't it? To be confined, yet liberated.

It seems sad, poignant, and stark that detainees are uninhibited with their expressions of honesty in comparison with the rest of us apparent "lucky" ones on the outside looking in wishing for some of that humanity and earnestness to rub off.

Most of them, if not all, came here with the hope of a better life - believing that it could be different here. If we can't give them that, let's just let them go and send them home with their dignity intact.

Aneesa Alphonsus
2 May 2004

Fortnightly Column by WAO on Sunday Mail