Token

At the morning teh table Omar surprised with the abrupt question.

         — What's he doing in this photograph?... Finger waving over the open broad-sheet.
         — .... Ahmm. Gee. Lemme see....
         A half dozen Pollie pics of the usual wallpaper sort, reassuring smiles in the familiar politician bed-side manner. As ever and everywhere, blues predominated, neat hair-cuts, glasses, good dentistry. Three chappies and three gals—evens, stevens. Long horizontal across the middle of the page. Above were the big winners in the Cabinet re-shuffle, the two new boys from the so-called fourth generation, who had been promoted.
         A special Labour Day for new ministers, accompanying head-line. (A reminder that May Day in Singapore was honoured and marked indeed by a national holiday. Repeat: Singapore celebrates May One. The day of the toilers. Celebrates alongside some rather strange bed-fellows such as.... North Korea? Cuba?... The... The author will report back further.)
         — OK. What's this particular guy at the end there doing in the picture you ask?... Beats me Omar. Happy member of the team.  Solid citizen.... He's got a wife and two kids and eats in cheap Eateries (as the protocol prescribes when the pollies are featured in a media profile here).. .. He's earned some good Brownie points you'd guess. An up-and-comer.
         .... Page one led the story: Cabinet shuffle "to see S'pore through next phase".
         The fuller detail A8. Hardly worth the trouble. Who would devote ten minutes of precious life to reading such reports through? Since Omar's retirement the man had time on his hands. That morning he had read the entire newspaper, most of the advertising included, he quipped.
         The answer to the puzzle wasn't being volunteered.
         Half a dozen faces, with two more higher up. Listening to an ABBA concert would be more appealing than digging in here. A cover band even. Grass grow, paint dry, ice melt, what you will. Who gives a rat's?
         — They needed a Malay.
         Finally Omar.
         ….Needed a Malay?...
         The most sturdy, severe grand-dad mask fell over Omar's features like a roller-shutter on a gold trader in these parts.
         Explanation: In the story proper this particular Smiler had no actual part. None whatever. Take it on Omar's careful and thorough reading: no mention of Mr. Muhammad Faishal Ibrahim in anything to do with the re-shuffle that was the subject of this news-story. As the tag under the photographs suggested, while all the other moved this way and that along the parliamentary assembly line, this chap would remain Parliamentary Secretary for Health.... "driving MOH's healthy living initiatives." Hand-brake on Mr. Ibrahim at this stage of his ascent. Perhaps he could hope for better in the future. Not at present.
         The other five in the line-up with Mr. Ibrahim were Chinese, as were the two specially marked out above. In the frieze it was in fact difficult to tell at a glance that Mr. Ibrahim was different. A Malay. The man fitted in well. 
         For the reader unaware, all the media in S'pore is owned by the single entity, Media Corp—print, television and radio. Neatly arranged: single party; single media. 
         When you want some garnish, throw in a Malay. The picture was worth a thousand words. Who reads text anyway?
         An outsider was hard-pressed in many regards.