In Chow Kit, a crowded district of Kuala Lumpur forever caught between progress and prejudice, Amy* moves quietly through narrow alleys – a transgender outreach worker tending to lives the city prefers not to see.
Her evenings begin with small rituals: a backpack filled with condoms, test kits and pamphlets; a quick text to let her friends know that she is safe.
Then, when she steps out, much of her work happens in passing conversations – careful not to draw too much attention.
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“The girls know they’re high-risk,” Amy said of the transgender sex workers she visits. “They want to stay healthy. But also … they just want to live.”
Yet even basic healthcare work can feel dangerous when you’re constantly looking over your shoulder. And furtiveness comes naturally if your very existence can be construed as a crime. Some of the women worry about being seen entering clinics for fear of who might recognise them.
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