IT'S easy to feel at ease with Shyam Priah Marimuthu right from the start. After all (aside from the 35 mutual friends we have on Facebook, as she rightly pointed out), we share a common interest — dogs. She owns two, and at this moment, they're both curiously sniffing my hands and looking at me with inquisitive eyes.
"That's Chocolate," she says, pointing to one, and then nods towards the other, who has just licked me, adding: "And that's Fazer."
We shift to a quieter table and instantly both dogs stand up, their eyes following Shyam anxiously. She laughs heartily. "They always want to keep me in their line of sight. They get nervous if they can't see me!" she explains, bemused.
As we sit down, ensuring the dogs are within sight, Shyam shares more about her menagerie. "I also have a cat called Tuna and a pair of young crows that I feed. The cat accompanies my dogs when we go for walks and the crows fly along for company!" she says, eyes twinkling. The animal enthusiast adds: "Growing up, I was surrounded by animals — dogs, cats, squirrels, shrews… I've always loved them all."
I find myself unsurprised by this revelation. After all, dedicating her life to helping marginalised communities seems to be a natural extension of her nurturing spirit.
The lively woman seated before me was instrumental in founding Yellow House in 2011. Yellow House isn't just another organisation; this grassroots community initiative strives to weave a safety net for those often overlooked: the homeless, the financially struggling families, migrant workers and displaced refugees.
By offering more than just shelter, it nurtures sustainable futures for single parents striving for stability, refugees seeking a new beginning and migrant workers far from home. It's where countless stories of resilience and community support unfold every day.
"We're a family," she asserts with conviction. Her eyes, accentuated by vivid blue contacts, lock onto mine as she continues softly: "For many here, this is the only family they've known or will ever know."
FAMILY STORIES
Shyam's childhood was marked by frequent moves, a consequence of her father's career in the air force. "I was originally from Kuala Lumpur, but my early years were spent moving around. I've lived in Kuantan, Labuan... but Kuala Lumpur holds a special place in my heart; it's where I was born."
Shyam shares a poignant memory of her parents. "They always had a big heart for helping others," she recounts. "Actually, back in 1985, after buying our house in Ampang, they didn't stop there. They purchased the neighbouring house too simply because the owner needed urgent funds for his cancer treatments."
She shakes her head in disbelief, marvelling at her parents' resolve. "They barely had enough for one house, yet they went ahead and bought a second," she continues.
Undeterred by the financial challenge, her parents came up with a creative solution — selling vadais. She fondly remembers her mother tirelessly shaping thousands of vadais with her hands from two tubs of batter, while her father juggled the orders, often urging her to take it easy.
Curious, I ask: "Where did you sell all these vadais?" She smiles at the memory, replying: "Oh, it was a family affair. We all pitched in to sell them, though my brother would end up eating half!"
The additional house was put to good use.
Shyam relates that her mother, a schoolteacher, often met students in her classes who were facing domestic violence or abuse at home. With a heart full of empathy, she opened the doors of their second house to these students, offering them a safe space to stay during their times of turmoil. This act of kindness, a small yet powerful gesture, laid the foundation for what would eventually blossom into Yellow House.
DIFFERENT PATHS
Aspiring to be a veterinarian or doctor, Shyam went to India post-SPM, encouraged by her mother. High fees post-matriculation led her to explore other universities, during which time she completed a psychology degree.
Her persistence paid off when she was accepted for either medicine or veterinary science at two universities, but her plans were cut short by her mother's irrational fears.
"She was afraid that I wouldn't get back in time if something happened to her," Shyam recalls with a dry tone. Reflecting on it now, she adds quietly: "Maybe her intuition was right as she passed away just a year later."
Shyam acknowledges the disappointment she felt at that juncture with candid openness. Yet, this setback paved the way for a new beginning. Joining a news agency as the group marketing manager marked the true start of her career. "It was a transformative experience," she shares, adding: "I encountered many who recognised my potential and had faith in my abilities."
After a few years, she decided it was time to channel her skills into a different cause. "Though I loved my role at the agency, I felt a deeper calling to leverage my talents in a way that could truly benefit those in need."
After parting ways with the news agency, Shyam embarked on a new venture: My Khatulistiwa.
"In my media career, I met many needing help and others willing to give it, but no platform connected them. So, without NGO (non-governmental organisation) experience, I started a CSR consulting firm to help corporations adopt effective, sustainable CSR strategies," she explains.
CHALLENGES AND HEARTBREAK
My Khatulistiwa initially flourished under her leadership. "The start was promising," she reminisces, adding: We engaged in tree planting, merchandising, and even launched a sewing project at Yellow House involving single parents while volunteers cared for their kids." Initially conceived as a CSR brand, Yellow House thrived. However, as corporate budgets for CSR shrank, the projects began to dwindle.
She grows quiet, before confessing: "I really don't like talking about this part."
My Khatulistiwa, Shyam's ambitious project, consumed much of her resources. She had plans to eventually relocate to Yellow House and start fresh. However, life threw a curveball: an unexpected eviction suddenly left her without a place to call home.
"I was evicted without notice," she confides. Her only other option was to move to the Yellow House, but with a migrant family already residing there, Shyam couldn't bear displacing them. "They had kids; I couldn't just put them out on the streets."
Her voice heavy, she explains: "I couldn't go back to my family and stand there as a failure. A lot of people are homeless because of pride. You don't want to be labelled a failure. It's not just substance abuse that causes someone to be homeless. There are various other reasons."
It's hard to explain why you're in that state, she tells me dryly. "I foresaw the kind of questions I'd be getting. Why are you like this? Why don't you make better decisions? Why are your finances like this? I couldn't deal with all of that."
She lived in her car for a while and then things took a turn for the worse. "My car was rosak (broke down) and I just ended up sitting on the pavement and wondering what to do next. I just felt so overwhelmed. I had just RM50 and not much else."
Another homeless woman came up to Shyam and asked: "What are you doing here?" Shyam replied: "I don't know." The lady asked: "Have you eaten?" and then offered her a piece of bread.
After eating, the stranger offered her a place to sleep. "She gave me some carton boxes to sleep on and I remember weeping all night wondering how did I even get to this point in my life."
Shyam found an unexpected support system in the homeless community during her time on the streets. "You can't imagine what it's like without basic things like water or tissue," she reflects.
Their kindness, she adds, was her lifeline. "They guided me, showing me where to find food and how to get by each day. They kept me safe from being trafficked into prostitution and I learnt that the most important currency on the street wasn't money but cigarettes!"
LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL
After a few challenging months, Shyam regained her stability and made her way back to Yellow House. The migrant family had since moved close by, allowing her to rent out part of the house for some income. During this time, she pondered ways to assist the homeless community that had shown her kindness.
One of her initial acts was a simple yet meaningful service — laundering clothes. "I'd collect their laundry in a big bag, wash them and return them the next day," she explains. Shyam didn't stop there; she also started providing haircuts and washes, eager to maintain the connections she'd formed.
Her efforts expanded as she utilised her network to find job and housing opportunities for those in need. Volunteers began to join her cause, inspired by her dedication. "The homeless community embraced me when I was at my lowest. Helping them felt like my true calling," she reflects.
Yellow House evolved into more than just a home for Shyam; it became a beacon of hope. Her outreach activities grew, attracting volunteers who assisted with haircuts, cooking and more.
"It wasn't just about feeding the homeless, but it was also about building trust," Shyam says. "Initially, they were wary but soon they were asking how they could contribute. This was exactly what we hoped for."
As Yellow House KL became more familiar with the community, it could offer more targeted help, finding employment and shelter for those in need.
Since 2011, Yellow House has launched several impactful projects, with Unseen Tours KL being a notable example. Enthusiastically, Shyam shares: "We empowered the street community to become tour associates. They weren't just guides but they were also storytellers, intimately familiar with every hidden alley and nook of the city. Their enthusiasm for sharing what they love was infectious and the project resonated widely."
At the heart of this initiative was Zahren, affectionately nicknamed "Pirate" due to his partial blindness. "Zahren transformed into an incredible tour associate," Shyam recalls, voice filled with pride. Initially hesitant and nervous, he grew into his role, captivating guests with his unique perspective and charm.
For Zahren, Shyam and her team of volunteers were family. He'd joyfully approach Shyam with his pay check in hand, exclaiming: "Shyam, ada taman bunga di hati, Abang Zahren belanja hari ini! (There's a garden of flowers in my heart, I'll treat you today!)"
However, the Covid-19 pandemic abruptly halted their efforts. Tragically, Zahren, already with a weakened immune system, fell victim to Covid. Shyam's voice grows heavy as she recounts: "I got a call from the hospital. They found my card in his wallet and asked if he had any family. Hearing that, my heart just shattered."
The spirit of Yellow House remains undimmed, even amidst challenges. "We've transformed many lives here and we're committed to continuing this work," the 50-year-old says, adding: "Our goal is to keep providing opportunities for those on the margins to not just survive, but to truly thrive."
Yellow House KL extends its reach beyond local communities, touching the lives of refugees through unique initiatives. They've launched projects like the Mantoo Project, empowering Afghan refugees to sell frozen dumplings, and the Poncho Blouse Project, which enhances women's sewing skills for sustainable livelihoods.
Additionally, the Freelance Tailors Partnership connects refugee tailors with local businesses. However, these meaningful programmes are currently paused, awaiting the completion of the house's renovations.
While Yellow House is being extensively renovated, the team is cultivating a small farm nearby, supported by a grant. "We're also excited to bring back Unseen Tours. There's so much we plan to do once the renovations are done," shares Shyam excitedly.
Funding the renovation is a work in progress. They have some donations but Shyam is actively engaged in fundraising to finance the full scope of the renovations.
Soon it's time to go. Both Faizer and Chocolate get to their feet, their tails wagging furiously. The resilient woman smiles and bids me goodbye. As I walk away, I can't help but think of Shyam with her two dogs, a cat and a pair of crows.
It's quintessential Shyam: embracing the most unexpected friends and guiding them to find their space in the world. Her parting words: "Always leave the world a kinder place than you found it," resonate deeply with me.
And Yellow House, radiant in its golden hue and vividly coloured walls, stands proudly as a symbol of her unyielding spirit and heart. It's a place where everyone, regardless of their story, can belong.
For more details on Yellow House and how you can help, go to www.yellowhousekl.com/ngo.