Becoming is a series where we showcase individuals who have had to overcome adversity to become the person they are today.

If you ever meet rapper and sound designer Danial Bawthan, don't tell him he's brave.

The straight-talking 26-year-old, who uses a wheelchair due to his muscular dystrophy, made his distaste for patronising platitudes known early on in our interview, scoffing, "I was on a Grab, and [the driver] told me I was inspiring because I went out of my house."

He explains, "There are these perceptions — if you do more than just sell tissue, you're inspirational."

Well, no matter which way you slice it though, Danial, who also goes by the moniker Wheelsmith, has done plenty more than "just sell tissue".

You may remember him for his rap segment in the 2019 National Day Parade (NDP) where he rallied Singapore to "stand as one in Padang".

He's also appeared in theatre productions, such as The Coronalogues presented by the Singapore Repertory Theatre, alongside other familiar faces (Dick Lee and Ken Kwek, to name a couple).

When Danial isn't writing and producing beats, he's also a wheelchair rugby enthusiast. "We can hit each other without being Stomp-ed. It's awesome," he shares enthusiastically, revealing that plays for the national team.

And the daredevil of sorts isn't stopping there.

Come the end of this year, he has hopes of going parasailing. It's maybe a tad too optimistic, given the raging global pandemic, but it's pretty on-brand for Danial, who's built a career for himself in the local art scene thanks to his indomitable positivity and conviction to "try everything once".

'Singapore has given me the opportunity to actually move'

Danial was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy, which causes progressive muscle damage and weakness, at age four.

Nevertheless, he had a "pretty awesome childhood" growing up in Johor Bahru, he shares.

"There's nothing different about my childhood when I was really young because we didn't really bother about who's different. All we wanted to do was play."

Together with his friends, he got up to a number of shenanigans, from trading his Nokia phone (the hottest gadget at the time) for a BMX bike to getting chased by street dogs.

He moved to Singapore at age 13, and by then his condition had worsened, forcing him to rely on crutches to get around. Two years later, he began using a wheelchair.

But even as he gradually lost mobility, his move across the causeway opened up new doors for him.

"When I first came here, I had the shock of my life. Even with crutches, I could actually cross the road."

Getting around Malaysia was a mission and often required a car, he recalls.

"Singapore has given me the opportunity to actually move.

"There's pavement, there's no potholes, and I don't have to dodge things. I close my eyes. I push my chair. I'm at Marsiling MRT."

Turning his struggles into rap verses

Make no mistake, things weren't exactly smooth sailing for him, despite the ease of getting around here.

"At the age of 13 or 14, I started thinking I need to style my hair now to go to school. I need to wear whatever my friends wear."

Despite his best efforts to hop on the latest trends, his school life was "very awkward", he tells us.

"Like, you want to fit in but I'm... not. And the more I look at the mirror, the more I realised, I'm not the same."

It was then that he began to put pen to paper, spilling his thoughts and feelings out in rhyming verses "for no apparent reason", he shares.

After gathering the courage to show his work to his friends, one of them casually suggested that he lay it on a beat and the rest is history.

"I rushed home, opened up YouTube, and searched up 'rap beats instrumental free sad'," he recalled with a laugh.

He eventually graduated from using royalty-free music to making his own beats. This is because his interest was piqued when he realised that everything could be done from just a laptop.

"It really attracted me. I thought this is something I can do."

Eventually, he found himself producing music for theatre productions when "they asked for my music without the rap". He has even taken to the stage as a performer. "They asked if I could do a monologue. So I gave it a try," he quips.

But rap remains his passion — and his outlet. On his latest track, Vanilla, Danial declares:

Music live forever, that's what I believe

Die like a legend cos' I lived like a myth

Rapping on a national stage

Things have fallen into place serendipitously in terms of his music career, says Danial.

From his early rapping gigs (his first paid engagement was at a kendama event, performing for a bunch of distracted kids) to his big break at NDP, it was all because "one guy gave me a chance". 

"So I said 'Why not?'. And pretty much everything was like puzzle pieces — one after another."

His NDP appearance came about because he had gotten to know filmmaker Royston Tan on a previous project. Royston mentioned in passing that it "would be cool" if he was featured in 2019's NDP.

But he hadn't thought much of it until Royston, the multimedia director of that year's parade, actually called him up, saying, "Hello bro, it's on. You're gonna be [at NDP]."

His initial reaction was one of disbelief, Danial admits: "I said, 'You have tickets?'"

But the reality that he would perform in front of millions of Singaporeans soon sank in and he was determined to make the most of it.

"I was waiting for that moment. I was waiting for that moment where I had the biggest platform to say what I want to say," he says.

"Because I want people who are in my situation to understand the fact that boleh (can) bro. You can. Just go, just go, just go."

Coping with the new normal

As much as it was a milestone for him, the high of being part of the first first-ever NDP segment devoted to rap and hip hop, alongside fellow rappers Yung Raja and Fariz Jabba, wore off soon.

Despite an uptick in his projects after showing his stuff on a national stage, 2020 has been nothing short of a "nightmare" for him, in no small part due to the Covid-19 pandemic, Danial candidly explains.

"NDP put me on a momentum where I was getting constant projects. I had things to do, people to collaborate with and whatnot.

"And then Covid is just like 'Knock knock, who's there? Everything's gone.'"

He laments, "It's just those three words, 'cannot, postpone, cancel'."

For Danial, who relishes adventure and being on the go, staying home with "nothing to do" has been "really tough".

But as with most things in his life, he's not giving up just yet. "It is coming back. We are picking up again. My kite will fly soon."

kimberlylim@asiaone.com

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