KUALA LUMPUR, May 4, 2026:
Innalillahi wainna ilaihi rojiun.
Jan 24, 2026 will always stay in my heart. It was the last time we met Husner.
We had lunch at Sate Samuri in Kajang; it felt like any other day. She loved satay and durians, and that afternoon, she quietly savoured both. Rasinah had brought the durians; Mafuzah was there with us too.
But Husner was unusually quiet. At that time, we didn’t think much of it. Only later did we realise… that was her way of saying goodbye.
Husner, 74, returned peacefully to her Creator in her sleep on a blessed Friday morning. We go back a long way — MassComm Class of 1977, UiTM Shah Alam. She was a broadcasting major and later served at RTM until her retirement.
Beautiful in her own way, with a fair complexion and a distinctive mole on her cheek, she reminded many of the late Saadiah, and had appeared in local dramas.
In our early career days after graduation, the three of us (Husner, Rasinah and I) shared a small rented place in Bangsar. Life wasn’t easy. We cooked simple meals: sardines, omelette, plain rice. Yet those were some of the happiest moments of our lives.
Time took us in different directions, but the bond never faded.
That last lunch… now feels so precious.
May Allah SWT grant you Jannah, dear Husner. You will always be remembered
Sunday, May 3, 2026
Songkran Lessons for Kuala Lumpur
KUALA LUMPUR, May 4, 2026: In recent years, the growing popularity of Songkran-style celebrations beyond Thailand has brought with it a vibrant mix of colour, music and, most visibly, water. But as such festivities make their way into urban centres like Bukit Bintang, an important question arises: are we celebrating culture, or merely replicating spectacle?
At its heart, Songkran is a deeply meaningful occasion. It marks the Thai New Year and is rooted in values of renewal, gratitude and respect. Traditionally, water is gently poured over Buddha statues and elders’ hands, symbolising the washing away of misfortune and the welcoming of new beginnings. It is as much a spiritual observance as it is a social one.
However, when transplanted into the context of Kuala Lumpur’s nightlife districts, the festival risks losing its essence. What often emerges instead is a high-energy, alcohol-fuelled “water rave,” an experience driven more by entertainment than cultural understanding.
This shift raises several concerns.
First, the issue of water usage cannot be ignored. Malaysia is no stranger to water supply challenges, with periodic disruptions and conservation campaigns reminding the public of the need to use this resource wisely. Against this backdrop, large-scale water-splashing events, often involving thousands of litres of treated water, may be perceived as excessive, if not irresponsible.
Second, there are questions of public order and safety. Bukit Bintang is already one of the busiest areas in the capital. Introducing mass water activities into such a dense environment increases the risk of accidents, from slippery pavements to traffic hazards. Experiences from other countries have shown that large, uncontrolled water festivals can sometimes lead to spikes in injuries and public disturbances.
Equally important is the social dimension. Malaysia’s multicultural and relatively conservative society places strong emphasis on mutual respect in public spaces. While festive interaction is welcome, the practice of splashing strangers, particularly without consent, may lead to discomfort or unintended boundary violations. This is compounded when celebrations are intertwined with excessive alcohol consumption, which can further erode decorum.
There is also the matter of cultural integrity. When stripped of its spiritual and familial elements, Songkran risks being reduced to a commercialised event — a spectacle devoid of its original meaning. Cultural appreciation should not come at the expense of authenticity.
None of this suggests that Malaysia should shy away from embracing regional traditions. On the contrary, cultural exchange enriches society and fosters regional understanding. But such celebrations must be adapted thoughtfully, in a way that aligns with local values, environmental realities and public safety considerations.
A more measured approach could see Songkran-inspired events held in controlled environments, with an emphasis on cultural education rather than unchecked revelry.
Ultimately, the goal should not be to imitate, but to understand. In doing so, Malaysia can celebrate diversity without compromising on responsibility.
At its heart, Songkran is a deeply meaningful occasion. It marks the Thai New Year and is rooted in values of renewal, gratitude and respect. Traditionally, water is gently poured over Buddha statues and elders’ hands, symbolising the washing away of misfortune and the welcoming of new beginnings. It is as much a spiritual observance as it is a social one.
However, when transplanted into the context of Kuala Lumpur’s nightlife districts, the festival risks losing its essence. What often emerges instead is a high-energy, alcohol-fuelled “water rave,” an experience driven more by entertainment than cultural understanding.
This shift raises several concerns.
First, the issue of water usage cannot be ignored. Malaysia is no stranger to water supply challenges, with periodic disruptions and conservation campaigns reminding the public of the need to use this resource wisely. Against this backdrop, large-scale water-splashing events, often involving thousands of litres of treated water, may be perceived as excessive, if not irresponsible.
Second, there are questions of public order and safety. Bukit Bintang is already one of the busiest areas in the capital. Introducing mass water activities into such a dense environment increases the risk of accidents, from slippery pavements to traffic hazards. Experiences from other countries have shown that large, uncontrolled water festivals can sometimes lead to spikes in injuries and public disturbances.
Equally important is the social dimension. Malaysia’s multicultural and relatively conservative society places strong emphasis on mutual respect in public spaces. While festive interaction is welcome, the practice of splashing strangers, particularly without consent, may lead to discomfort or unintended boundary violations. This is compounded when celebrations are intertwined with excessive alcohol consumption, which can further erode decorum.
There is also the matter of cultural integrity. When stripped of its spiritual and familial elements, Songkran risks being reduced to a commercialised event — a spectacle devoid of its original meaning. Cultural appreciation should not come at the expense of authenticity.
None of this suggests that Malaysia should shy away from embracing regional traditions. On the contrary, cultural exchange enriches society and fosters regional understanding. But such celebrations must be adapted thoughtfully, in a way that aligns with local values, environmental realities and public safety considerations.
A more measured approach could see Songkran-inspired events held in controlled environments, with an emphasis on cultural education rather than unchecked revelry.
Ultimately, the goal should not be to imitate, but to understand. In doing so, Malaysia can celebrate diversity without compromising on responsibility.
Monday, January 12, 2026
Farewell Saba, You’ll Be Dearly Missed
KUALA LUMPUR, Jan 12, 2025: Former Bernama journalist Sabaruddin Ahmad Sabri, fondly known as Saba, passed away at Sungai Buloh Hospital early Monday morning. He was 60.
His wife, Suzrina Shamsuddin, said Sabaruddin died at 5.28 am after nearly two weeks of treatment for a lung infection. His remains were brought to Masjid Jamek FRIM for funeral prayers after Zuhur, before being laid to rest at Bukit Lagong Muslim Cemetery, Taman Ehsan, Kepong, Selangor. He is survived by his wife and five children.
Sabaruddin began his journalism career at Bernama Economic Service (BES) in 1985, before moving on to Utusan Malaysia. At BES, most assignments were conducted in English — from press releases and press conferences to major international and corporate events. Reporters were expected to cover everything from AGMs and EGMs to product launches and business briefings.
I remember Saba as cheerful and easygoing. I cannot recall a moment when he was grumpy or complained. He was hardworking and sharp, producing numerous exclusives — perhaps the very reason Utusan later sought him out.
After his time in print journalism, Sabaruddin ventured into the corporate sector, including a stint at Bridgecon Holdings Bhd, before joining Radio Televisyen Malaysia (RTM), where he gained national recognition as the host of Selamat Pagi Malaysia. He also served as a special officer to the late Information Minister, Zainuddin Maidin (ZAM).
Beyond the newsroom, Saba was deeply committed to strengthening regional media ties. He was actively involved in establishing the Malaysia–Indonesia Journalists Association (ISWAMI), helping foster professional bonds and friendships between journalists from both countries.
He was also passionate about sports, especially hockey, and played a key role in forming Bernama’s hockey team in the late 1980s, which regularly competed in media and government tournaments.
Sabaruddin spent the final phase of his career in the private sector and retired last year from Alam Flora Sdn Bhd.
Tributes poured in following his passing. Former Bernama Editor-in-Chief Datuk Yong Soo Heong described him as jovial and recalled the many light-hearted moments they shared at BES.
Bernama Special Projects Editor Govind Nair said Saba would be dearly missed, while former Bernama Editor Kuah Guan Oo remembered him for his warm personality and prayed for blessings upon him.Friends — myself included — fondly recall receiving doa and gentle reminders every Friday from Saba.
Many former colleagues from Bernama, Utusan, RTM, NST and other media organisations gathered at Masjid Jamek FRIM to pay their last respects.
A close friend, Norazli Noh, 62, described Sabaruddin as someone who truly lived up to the meaning of his name — “Sabar”, a man marked by patience, courtesy and dedication.
“If he started a task, he would make sure it was completed to the best of his ability,” said Norazli, a former RTM presenter. Norazli also recalled their memorable involvement in ISWAMI, under the leadership of Tan Sri Rais Yatim, an initiative aimed at strengthening ties between journalists from Malaysia and Indonesia.
“At the grassroots level, we worked to foster understanding between Malaysians and Indonesians. Sabaruddin played a key role as a bridge between both sides — a contribution that will not be forgotten,” he said.
Norazli noted that Sabaruddin’s experience as an economics journalist, coupled with his extensive network among corporate leaders and media colleagues — including during his time at Utusan Malaysia — made him a trusted reference point on regional matters, particularly those involving Indonesia.
“Every time during National Press Day in Indonesia, he would play the leading role in bringing Malaysian journalists there, and he was also the one who coordinated visits by Indonesian journalists to Malaysia,” he added.
Meanwhile, veteran TV3 journalist Muhammad Fairuz Mansor, 57, said Sabaruddin’s passing was a major loss to Malaysia’s journalism fraternity.
“He was not only disciplined, but also a unifying figure who strengthened ties among media practitioners across organisations and borders,” he said, adding that Sabaruddin was widely known for his calm demeanour and his ability to defuse tense situations.
Muhammad Fairuz also shared that they had planned to produce a journalism podcast this year — with the aim of passing on the values of integrity and accountability to the younger generation.
An Indonesian veteran journalist and former Antara Editor-in-Chief, Kama Asro Rokan, described Sabaruddin as a respected figure in regional journalism who played an important role in strengthening Malaysia–Indonesia relations through media diplomacy.
“To Saba, the two nations were siblings born of the same mother — the Malay world. He was a familiar presence at Indonesia’s National Press Day, including in Solo in 2018, where he was remembered with a smile, proudly wearing a Javanese blangkon.
Pak Saba has now gone ahead, joining dear friends who have departed before him. And one day, we too will follow — if not today, then tomorrow, or the day after. We accept this with sincerity, like trees that gently release their leaves when the time comes.
Farewell, my friend. This morning, rain continues to fall over Jakarta.May he be granted peace in the hereafter. Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi rojiun. (Jakarta, Jan 12, 2026)”
His wife, Suzrina Shamsuddin, said Sabaruddin died at 5.28 am after nearly two weeks of treatment for a lung infection. His remains were brought to Masjid Jamek FRIM for funeral prayers after Zuhur, before being laid to rest at Bukit Lagong Muslim Cemetery, Taman Ehsan, Kepong, Selangor. He is survived by his wife and five children.
Sabaruddin began his journalism career at Bernama Economic Service (BES) in 1985, before moving on to Utusan Malaysia. At BES, most assignments were conducted in English — from press releases and press conferences to major international and corporate events. Reporters were expected to cover everything from AGMs and EGMs to product launches and business briefings.
I remember Saba as cheerful and easygoing. I cannot recall a moment when he was grumpy or complained. He was hardworking and sharp, producing numerous exclusives — perhaps the very reason Utusan later sought him out.
After his time in print journalism, Sabaruddin ventured into the corporate sector, including a stint at Bridgecon Holdings Bhd, before joining Radio Televisyen Malaysia (RTM), where he gained national recognition as the host of Selamat Pagi Malaysia. He also served as a special officer to the late Information Minister, Zainuddin Maidin (ZAM).
Beyond the newsroom, Saba was deeply committed to strengthening regional media ties. He was actively involved in establishing the Malaysia–Indonesia Journalists Association (ISWAMI), helping foster professional bonds and friendships between journalists from both countries.
He was also passionate about sports, especially hockey, and played a key role in forming Bernama’s hockey team in the late 1980s, which regularly competed in media and government tournaments.
Sabaruddin spent the final phase of his career in the private sector and retired last year from Alam Flora Sdn Bhd.
Tributes poured in following his passing. Former Bernama Editor-in-Chief Datuk Yong Soo Heong described him as jovial and recalled the many light-hearted moments they shared at BES.
Bernama Special Projects Editor Govind Nair said Saba would be dearly missed, while former Bernama Editor Kuah Guan Oo remembered him for his warm personality and prayed for blessings upon him.Friends — myself included — fondly recall receiving doa and gentle reminders every Friday from Saba.
Many former colleagues from Bernama, Utusan, RTM, NST and other media organisations gathered at Masjid Jamek FRIM to pay their last respects.
A close friend, Norazli Noh, 62, described Sabaruddin as someone who truly lived up to the meaning of his name — “Sabar”, a man marked by patience, courtesy and dedication.
“If he started a task, he would make sure it was completed to the best of his ability,” said Norazli, a former RTM presenter. Norazli also recalled their memorable involvement in ISWAMI, under the leadership of Tan Sri Rais Yatim, an initiative aimed at strengthening ties between journalists from Malaysia and Indonesia.
“At the grassroots level, we worked to foster understanding between Malaysians and Indonesians. Sabaruddin played a key role as a bridge between both sides — a contribution that will not be forgotten,” he said.
Norazli noted that Sabaruddin’s experience as an economics journalist, coupled with his extensive network among corporate leaders and media colleagues — including during his time at Utusan Malaysia — made him a trusted reference point on regional matters, particularly those involving Indonesia.
“Every time during National Press Day in Indonesia, he would play the leading role in bringing Malaysian journalists there, and he was also the one who coordinated visits by Indonesian journalists to Malaysia,” he added.
Meanwhile, veteran TV3 journalist Muhammad Fairuz Mansor, 57, said Sabaruddin’s passing was a major loss to Malaysia’s journalism fraternity.
“He was not only disciplined, but also a unifying figure who strengthened ties among media practitioners across organisations and borders,” he said, adding that Sabaruddin was widely known for his calm demeanour and his ability to defuse tense situations.
Muhammad Fairuz also shared that they had planned to produce a journalism podcast this year — with the aim of passing on the values of integrity and accountability to the younger generation.
An Indonesian veteran journalist and former Antara Editor-in-Chief, Kama Asro Rokan, described Sabaruddin as a respected figure in regional journalism who played an important role in strengthening Malaysia–Indonesia relations through media diplomacy.
“To Saba, the two nations were siblings born of the same mother — the Malay world. He was a familiar presence at Indonesia’s National Press Day, including in Solo in 2018, where he was remembered with a smile, proudly wearing a Javanese blangkon.
Pak Saba has now gone ahead, joining dear friends who have departed before him. And one day, we too will follow — if not today, then tomorrow, or the day after. We accept this with sincerity, like trees that gently release their leaves when the time comes.
Farewell, my friend. This morning, rain continues to fall over Jakarta.May he be granted peace in the hereafter. Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi rojiun. (Jakarta, Jan 12, 2026)”
Thursday, December 25, 2025
Pet-Friendly Malls? First, Let’s Fix Our Civic Habits
KUALA LUMPUR, Dec 26, 2025:
Recent incidents once again highlight the careless and non–civic-minded attitudes that still persist among Malaysians. The piles of rubbish left behind after the Christmas Eve celebrations in Bukit Bintang are just one glaring example.
If we are honest with ourselves, Malaysia is still not ready to call itself a developed nation when it comes to environmental awareness. Many families who dine at fast-food outlets still leave behind trays of unfinished food and trash on their tables, assuming it is the staff’s responsibility to pick up after them. The mindset is simple: “I paid, so someone else will clean up.”
This attitude also raises a question — are Malaysians truly ready for pet-friendly malls?
For now, the answer seems to be no. Some pet owners bring their dogs to public spaces but ignore their responsibilities when their pets urinate or defecate. Instead of cleaning up, they assume the mall cleaners will handle it. This is very different from what we see overseas, where dog owners are expected — and willing — to clean up after their pets.
Public toilets tell a similar story. Used tissues, sanitary products and even dirty diapers are often left behind, as if basic hygiene and respect for the next user are optional.
The debate over pet-friendly malls recently intensified after a newly opened shopping centre in Petaling Jaya reversed its policy within a week. Sunway Square Mall initially welcomed pets when it opened on Dec 11, but backlash from Muslim groups — along with intervention from the Selangor state government — led to an immediate policy change. The mall later announced that pets would no longer be allowed inside enclosed indoor areas to ensure a safe and hygienic environment for all visitors.
Pet ownership in Malaysia has increased significantly since the Covid-19 pandemic, with a 2024 survey showing more than six in ten households now owning a pet. Most of these are cats, while around 15 per cent are dogs. However, dogs remain sensitive within the Malay-Muslim community — which makes up over 63 per cent of Malaysia’s population — as contact with dogs requires ritual cleansing.
The Muslim Consumer Association of Malaysia (PPIM) has since called for a boycott of pet-friendly malls, saying the presence of dogs shows disrespect towards Muslims. Its leader, Datuk Nadzim Johan, said a coordinated boycott could impact traders due to the strong purchasing power of Muslim consumers.
All of this points to one uncomfortable truth: before debating policies and lifestyle choices, Malaysians must first confront a deeper issue — our collective civic responsibility. Cleanliness, respect for shared spaces and consideration for others are not just rules; they are reflections of who we are as a society.
Until our attitudes change, the path to becoming a truly developed nation will remain unfinished.
If we are honest with ourselves, Malaysia is still not ready to call itself a developed nation when it comes to environmental awareness. Many families who dine at fast-food outlets still leave behind trays of unfinished food and trash on their tables, assuming it is the staff’s responsibility to pick up after them. The mindset is simple: “I paid, so someone else will clean up.”
This attitude also raises a question — are Malaysians truly ready for pet-friendly malls?
For now, the answer seems to be no. Some pet owners bring their dogs to public spaces but ignore their responsibilities when their pets urinate or defecate. Instead of cleaning up, they assume the mall cleaners will handle it. This is very different from what we see overseas, where dog owners are expected — and willing — to clean up after their pets.
Public toilets tell a similar story. Used tissues, sanitary products and even dirty diapers are often left behind, as if basic hygiene and respect for the next user are optional.
The debate over pet-friendly malls recently intensified after a newly opened shopping centre in Petaling Jaya reversed its policy within a week. Sunway Square Mall initially welcomed pets when it opened on Dec 11, but backlash from Muslim groups — along with intervention from the Selangor state government — led to an immediate policy change. The mall later announced that pets would no longer be allowed inside enclosed indoor areas to ensure a safe and hygienic environment for all visitors.
Pet ownership in Malaysia has increased significantly since the Covid-19 pandemic, with a 2024 survey showing more than six in ten households now owning a pet. Most of these are cats, while around 15 per cent are dogs. However, dogs remain sensitive within the Malay-Muslim community — which makes up over 63 per cent of Malaysia’s population — as contact with dogs requires ritual cleansing.
The Muslim Consumer Association of Malaysia (PPIM) has since called for a boycott of pet-friendly malls, saying the presence of dogs shows disrespect towards Muslims. Its leader, Datuk Nadzim Johan, said a coordinated boycott could impact traders due to the strong purchasing power of Muslim consumers.
All of this points to one uncomfortable truth: before debating policies and lifestyle choices, Malaysians must first confront a deeper issue — our collective civic responsibility. Cleanliness, respect for shared spaces and consideration for others are not just rules; they are reflections of who we are as a society.
Until our attitudes change, the path to becoming a truly developed nation will remain unfinished.
Grow Up — The City Isn’t Your Dustbin
KUALA LUMPUR, Dec 26, 2025: If at night you can dress beautifully, find a nice spot, and record beautiful videos, then you can also keep the place beautiful.
The photos of Bukit Bintang on Christmas Eve are already enough to serve as a “mirror”. It’s not that people can’t celebrate. We want it festive too. But when everyone leaves and the floor is strewn with bottles, cups, cans, tissues and cigarette butts — that’s not “party culture”. That’s the culture of “I don’t care, someone else will clean it”.
What’s sad is that the ones picking it up aren’t robots. Cleaning workers have to work until dawn; others may step on broken glass, slip, and after rain, leftover drink containers collect stagnant water. We celebrate one night, the city bears it for days.
For New Year’s Eve 2026, let’s make a simple upgrade that looks classy. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being ashamed to let others clean up our mess.
Five things Malaysians should bring or do on New Year’s Eve 2026:
• Bring a small garbage bag
One group, one bag. All rubbish goes inside. Afterward, throw it away. Done. • Bring your own water bottle
Buy fewer single-use drinks. Less trash at the end. • Choose a spot with rubbish bins
If an area has no bins and is too crowded, don’t make it your “lepak spot” and leave it messy. • If something spills, clean it immediately Spills happen. Leaving it there is what annoys people. • Appoint a “group guardian”
One person is enough. Before moving: “Okay everyone, check your trash first.” This small act differentiates a considerate group from a careless one.
This New Year’s Eve 2026, let’s make sure what goes viral is not “floors full of rubbish”, but Malaysians celebrating with class — without leaving the dirty work to others.(Source: Public Health Malaysia)
The photos of Bukit Bintang on Christmas Eve are already enough to serve as a “mirror”. It’s not that people can’t celebrate. We want it festive too. But when everyone leaves and the floor is strewn with bottles, cups, cans, tissues and cigarette butts — that’s not “party culture”. That’s the culture of “I don’t care, someone else will clean it”.
What’s sad is that the ones picking it up aren’t robots. Cleaning workers have to work until dawn; others may step on broken glass, slip, and after rain, leftover drink containers collect stagnant water. We celebrate one night, the city bears it for days.
For New Year’s Eve 2026, let’s make a simple upgrade that looks classy. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being ashamed to let others clean up our mess.
Five things Malaysians should bring or do on New Year’s Eve 2026:
• Bring a small garbage bag
One group, one bag. All rubbish goes inside. Afterward, throw it away. Done. • Bring your own water bottle
Buy fewer single-use drinks. Less trash at the end. • Choose a spot with rubbish bins
If an area has no bins and is too crowded, don’t make it your “lepak spot” and leave it messy. • If something spills, clean it immediately Spills happen. Leaving it there is what annoys people. • Appoint a “group guardian”
One person is enough. Before moving: “Okay everyone, check your trash first.” This small act differentiates a considerate group from a careless one.
This New Year’s Eve 2026, let’s make sure what goes viral is not “floors full of rubbish”, but Malaysians celebrating with class — without leaving the dirty work to others.(Source: Public Health Malaysia)
Wednesday, December 24, 2025
Thank You, Malaysia Airlines
KUALA LUMPUR, Dec 24, 2025: Last year, I fractured my left leg—more accurately, my foot—after missing a few steps on the stairs at home. A year has passed, and while I can walk again, my steps are still unsteady. The pain returns whenever I stand or walk for long periods, and I now rely on a walking stick whenever I leave the house.
Despite this, I recently decided to go on a short package holiday with my niece to Jakarta and Bandung, organised by Jawahir Travel & Tours, from Dec 9 to Dec 12. Our flight with Malaysia Airlines was smooth and pleasant.
However, the trip did not get off to the best start upon our arrival at Soekarno-Hatta International Airport (CGK). The airport has implemented a biometric screening system, and a few days before departure, all visitors were required to complete the All Indonesia form online—which we duly did. Everything should have gone smoothly, but it didn’t.
My passport repeatedly failed to clear the biometric checkpoints, no matter how many times it was tried. The security personnel explained that the system could not recognise one digit on my passport. Panic set in, especially as my niece and several others in our tour group—except for our tour leader Naquib and another member, Mustapha—encountered similar issues. After some back and forth, I was directed to the ‘All Passports’ to be manually checked by an immigration officer. Thankfully, everything was cleared. Strangely enough, my passport posed no problem at the next checkpoint.
What truly took its toll, though, was the walking. CGK is Indonesia’s largest and busiest airport, and the distances between points are considerable. Terminal 1, opened in 1985, mainly serves domestic flights; Terminal 2, opened in 1991, handles international flights; while Terminal 3, opened in 2011 and expanded in 2016, caters to both domestic and international travellers. The long walks through the airport were punishing on my already fragile foot.
It was then that I realised I should have requested a wheelchair. I later learned that Malaysia Airlines does provide this service. After my difficult experience at Jakarta airport, I requested wheelchair assistance for my return journey from CGK to Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA).
To my surprise—and gratitude—after checking in at the Malaysia Airlines counter at CGK, with help from Naquib, the airline arranged for a staff member, a young lady, to assist me. She wheeled me comfortably all the way to the boarding gate. Even better, upon landing in KLIA, another staff member was already waiting with a wheelchair. A young man then wheeled me all the way to the baggage claim area and right up to the point where I could book my Grab ride home.
The service was seamless, thoughtful, and deeply appreciated.
Thank you, Malaysia Airlines.
Despite this, I recently decided to go on a short package holiday with my niece to Jakarta and Bandung, organised by Jawahir Travel & Tours, from Dec 9 to Dec 12. Our flight with Malaysia Airlines was smooth and pleasant.
However, the trip did not get off to the best start upon our arrival at Soekarno-Hatta International Airport (CGK). The airport has implemented a biometric screening system, and a few days before departure, all visitors were required to complete the All Indonesia form online—which we duly did. Everything should have gone smoothly, but it didn’t.
My passport repeatedly failed to clear the biometric checkpoints, no matter how many times it was tried. The security personnel explained that the system could not recognise one digit on my passport. Panic set in, especially as my niece and several others in our tour group—except for our tour leader Naquib and another member, Mustapha—encountered similar issues. After some back and forth, I was directed to the ‘All Passports’ to be manually checked by an immigration officer. Thankfully, everything was cleared. Strangely enough, my passport posed no problem at the next checkpoint.
What truly took its toll, though, was the walking. CGK is Indonesia’s largest and busiest airport, and the distances between points are considerable. Terminal 1, opened in 1985, mainly serves domestic flights; Terminal 2, opened in 1991, handles international flights; while Terminal 3, opened in 2011 and expanded in 2016, caters to both domestic and international travellers. The long walks through the airport were punishing on my already fragile foot.
It was then that I realised I should have requested a wheelchair. I later learned that Malaysia Airlines does provide this service. After my difficult experience at Jakarta airport, I requested wheelchair assistance for my return journey from CGK to Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA).
To my surprise—and gratitude—after checking in at the Malaysia Airlines counter at CGK, with help from Naquib, the airline arranged for a staff member, a young lady, to assist me. She wheeled me comfortably all the way to the boarding gate. Even better, upon landing in KLIA, another staff member was already waiting with a wheelchair. A young man then wheeled me all the way to the baggage claim area and right up to the point where I could book my Grab ride home.
The service was seamless, thoughtful, and deeply appreciated.
Thank you, Malaysia Airlines.
Wednesday, November 19, 2025
Two Heads in One Classroom: A Step Forward
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 19, 2025: “Two heads are better than one,” as the saying goes — and soon, this may become a familiar sight in Malaysian classrooms. The Ministry of Education (KPM) plans to introduce the team-teaching, or co-teaching, approach beginning in 2027.
Experts have already called it a timely move to strengthen teaching and learning (PdP), especially as classrooms today are more diverse than ever.
Under this approach, two teachers work together in the same classroom to support students with different needs, strengths, and learning styles. While some have questioned the necessity of this model, it is by no means new. Countries like Japan, Thailand and South Korea have long adopted co-teaching for selected subjects — and with positive outcomes.
Here at home, the method will be introduced specifically for a new subject, Alam dan Manusia: Pembelajaran Bersepadu (Nature and Humanity: Integrated Learning), for Year One students under the 2027 School Curriculum. The goal is clear: to nurture well-rounded young Malaysians who are academically capable, morally grounded and secure in their identity.
Personally, I welcome this move. Having practised a similar co-teaching method during my years as a media trainer, I’ve seen its benefits firsthand.
Although I have paused training work in recent years, many of my two- or three-day workshops relied on the strength of two facilitators. I’ve conducted solo one-day sessions before — and they were exhausting. One person managing the entire flow, from delivering content to guiding practical exercises, is undeniably draining.
But with a co-trainer, everything becomes more dynamic. My sessions were bilingual: I handled the English segments while my partner led the Malay portions. Participants gained more than just theoretical knowledge — they listened, discussed, and worked in groups while both of us had the time and energy to support them. Topics ranged from writing news and press releases to handling the media and navigating press conferences.
If co-teaching can enrich adult learners in a workshop setting, imagine what it could do for young children beginning their formal education.
Of course, the real test will come in implementation. Will teachers receive proper training? Will timetables allow genuine collaboration? Will classrooms be equipped for shared facilitation?
So, what do you think? Is Malaysia ready for this two-teacher model? What are the pros and cons you foresee?
Experts have already called it a timely move to strengthen teaching and learning (PdP), especially as classrooms today are more diverse than ever.
Under this approach, two teachers work together in the same classroom to support students with different needs, strengths, and learning styles. While some have questioned the necessity of this model, it is by no means new. Countries like Japan, Thailand and South Korea have long adopted co-teaching for selected subjects — and with positive outcomes.
Here at home, the method will be introduced specifically for a new subject, Alam dan Manusia: Pembelajaran Bersepadu (Nature and Humanity: Integrated Learning), for Year One students under the 2027 School Curriculum. The goal is clear: to nurture well-rounded young Malaysians who are academically capable, morally grounded and secure in their identity.
Personally, I welcome this move. Having practised a similar co-teaching method during my years as a media trainer, I’ve seen its benefits firsthand.
Although I have paused training work in recent years, many of my two- or three-day workshops relied on the strength of two facilitators. I’ve conducted solo one-day sessions before — and they were exhausting. One person managing the entire flow, from delivering content to guiding practical exercises, is undeniably draining.
But with a co-trainer, everything becomes more dynamic. My sessions were bilingual: I handled the English segments while my partner led the Malay portions. Participants gained more than just theoretical knowledge — they listened, discussed, and worked in groups while both of us had the time and energy to support them. Topics ranged from writing news and press releases to handling the media and navigating press conferences.
If co-teaching can enrich adult learners in a workshop setting, imagine what it could do for young children beginning their formal education.
Of course, the real test will come in implementation. Will teachers receive proper training? Will timetables allow genuine collaboration? Will classrooms be equipped for shared facilitation?
So, what do you think? Is Malaysia ready for this two-teacher model? What are the pros and cons you foresee?
Sunday, November 16, 2025
A Little Caution At Bangkok Airport Goes A Long Way
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 17, 2025: As Malaysians, Bangkok is one of our favourite short-getaway destinations — a place of food, colour, and effortless joy. But before you breeze through Suvarnabhumi Airport on your next trip, it’s worth pausing for a small reminder shared recently in my neighbourhood group.
A few travellers from across Asia have recounted unsettling experiences at airport duty-free shops. The stories may vary, but the pattern is familiar: someone pays for chocolates or perfume, the cashier quietly slips an extra item into the bag, and moments later security steps in and accuses the traveller of theft. What follows is frightening — detentions, hefty “fines”, and little support from authorities.
Whether every detail circulating online is fully accurate or not, one thing is certain: tourist scams evolve, and even major airports aren’t immune.
So if you’re heading to Bangkok, or anywhere really, take a moment to protect yourself:
• Watch every item being scanned at the counter.
• Check your receipt before you walk away.
• Keep an eye on how your purchases are packed.
• If you’re given a free gift, ask for it to be listed or acknowledged.
• And above all, don’t rush — airports thrive on our haste.
Travelling is meant to be joyful, not intimidating. A few extra seconds at the duty-free counter might spare you a distressing incident you never saw coming.
Stay safe, travel light, and may your next Bangkok adventure be filled with the kind of memories worth keeping.
A few travellers from across Asia have recounted unsettling experiences at airport duty-free shops. The stories may vary, but the pattern is familiar: someone pays for chocolates or perfume, the cashier quietly slips an extra item into the bag, and moments later security steps in and accuses the traveller of theft. What follows is frightening — detentions, hefty “fines”, and little support from authorities.
Whether every detail circulating online is fully accurate or not, one thing is certain: tourist scams evolve, and even major airports aren’t immune.
So if you’re heading to Bangkok, or anywhere really, take a moment to protect yourself:
• Watch every item being scanned at the counter.
• Check your receipt before you walk away.
• Keep an eye on how your purchases are packed.
• If you’re given a free gift, ask for it to be listed or acknowledged.
• And above all, don’t rush — airports thrive on our haste.
Travelling is meant to be joyful, not intimidating. A few extra seconds at the duty-free counter might spare you a distressing incident you never saw coming.
Stay safe, travel light, and may your next Bangkok adventure be filled with the kind of memories worth keeping.
Wednesday, November 12, 2025
Siva, Forever in Our Hearts
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 12, 2025: “Girl, if there’s nothing newsworthy, you can go home now.”
It was nearly 9pm. I had spent the whole afternoon poring over dry, technical papers while Siva watched in silence. Only later did I realise — he was teaching resilience, patience, and the discipline every journalist needs. That quiet nod to go home felt like a small victory, one I still remember.
Siva, his full name S. Sivaselvam never raised his voice – at least not with me. He guided with calm firmness — shaping my questions, sharpening my intros, polishing my copy. He pushed without scolding, and celebrated quietly when my work was good. When my exclusive finally made the papers, his early congratulations meant everything.
“A good man and a great journalist. Gone but never forgotten,” Govind said — and it’s true.
Siva, 77, passed away at 3am today, a month after being diagnosed with Stage 4 inoperable stomach cancer. He spent his final days in the comfort of home under hospice care, choosing peace over chemotherapy.
A steady hand, a gentle mentor — his lessons will echo long after his voice has fallen silent.
Meanwhile, tributes kept pouring in. Among them from ex Bernama journalist, P. Parameswaran:
“So sad to hear about Siva’s passing. He’ll be deeply missed. Looking back at the Bernama newsroom he led then, in the late 1970s, Siva was a firm but fair boss who set high standards. Yet he was always ready to lend a steady, guiding hand when we were stuck on an intro or struggling to find the perfect angle for a story.
He had a remarkable knack for mentoring young reporters, steering us through early newsroom challenges and reminding us to keep his editorial tips at the back of our heads. And if we turned to him again with the same questions, Siva would raise his voice just enough for the entire newsdesk to hear — a momentary embarrassment that ensured the lesson stayed with us.
Siva’s editing skills were legendary - thanks his sharp eye and instinct for clean, compelling copy. In fact, when his trademark initial — a bold, unmistakable “S” — appeared on an edited story, the subs desk would give it just a cursory glance before slipping the physical copy into the traditional boxes for the teleprinter operators to dispatch the stories to clients.
His edits carried quiet authority — everyone trusted his judgment. I still recall some of the crisp, catchy intros he suggested that instantly lifted my stories. At times, he would rewrite our copy so thoroughly that we could barely recognize our own work — but his versions always read better, infused with clarity, rhythm, and impact. Each rewrite was a masterclass in good journalism.
Beyond his editorial sharpness, Siva was a deeply caring mentor. He took a genuine interest in our personal lives too, often checking in, offering quiet encouragement. Siva helped lay the bedrock of discipline and editorial integrity that shaped many of our careers. He will be fondly remembered and deeply missed — as a mentor, colleague, and friend who helped many of us find our journalistic voice."
It was nearly 9pm. I had spent the whole afternoon poring over dry, technical papers while Siva watched in silence. Only later did I realise — he was teaching resilience, patience, and the discipline every journalist needs. That quiet nod to go home felt like a small victory, one I still remember.
Siva, his full name S. Sivaselvam never raised his voice – at least not with me. He guided with calm firmness — shaping my questions, sharpening my intros, polishing my copy. He pushed without scolding, and celebrated quietly when my work was good. When my exclusive finally made the papers, his early congratulations meant everything.
“A good man and a great journalist. Gone but never forgotten,” Govind said — and it’s true.
Siva, 77, passed away at 3am today, a month after being diagnosed with Stage 4 inoperable stomach cancer. He spent his final days in the comfort of home under hospice care, choosing peace over chemotherapy.
A steady hand, a gentle mentor — his lessons will echo long after his voice has fallen silent.
Meanwhile, tributes kept pouring in. Among them from ex Bernama journalist, P. Parameswaran:
“So sad to hear about Siva’s passing. He’ll be deeply missed. Looking back at the Bernama newsroom he led then, in the late 1970s, Siva was a firm but fair boss who set high standards. Yet he was always ready to lend a steady, guiding hand when we were stuck on an intro or struggling to find the perfect angle for a story.
He had a remarkable knack for mentoring young reporters, steering us through early newsroom challenges and reminding us to keep his editorial tips at the back of our heads. And if we turned to him again with the same questions, Siva would raise his voice just enough for the entire newsdesk to hear — a momentary embarrassment that ensured the lesson stayed with us.
Siva’s editing skills were legendary - thanks his sharp eye and instinct for clean, compelling copy. In fact, when his trademark initial — a bold, unmistakable “S” — appeared on an edited story, the subs desk would give it just a cursory glance before slipping the physical copy into the traditional boxes for the teleprinter operators to dispatch the stories to clients.
His edits carried quiet authority — everyone trusted his judgment. I still recall some of the crisp, catchy intros he suggested that instantly lifted my stories. At times, he would rewrite our copy so thoroughly that we could barely recognize our own work — but his versions always read better, infused with clarity, rhythm, and impact. Each rewrite was a masterclass in good journalism.
Beyond his editorial sharpness, Siva was a deeply caring mentor. He took a genuine interest in our personal lives too, often checking in, offering quiet encouragement. Siva helped lay the bedrock of discipline and editorial integrity that shaped many of our careers. He will be fondly remembered and deeply missed — as a mentor, colleague, and friend who helped many of us find our journalistic voice."
Monday, November 10, 2025
When the Customer Crosses the Line
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 11, 2025: For decades, the saying “the customer is always right” has been treated like sacred law in the service industry. It’s been drilled into employees as a symbol of professionalism — the idea that no matter how unreasonable the demand, the customer’s word reigns supreme.
But the recent ZUS Coffee incident, where a barista was verbally abused and splashed with hot coffee by a customer, forces us to confront an uncomfortable truth: sometimes, the customer is wrong — terribly wrong.
The viral video sparked national outrage. In it, a customer, reportedly from China, hurled insults and a cup of coffee at a young barista after being asked to leave the store.
ZUS Coffee responded swiftly, standing by its employee and condemning the behaviour. The company’s statement — “We stand with our Zurista” — was both compassionate and courageous, sending a clear message: respect is not optional.
And that’s precisely the shift we need to see in customer service culture. The phrase “the customer is king” was never meant to justify abuse. It was meant to encourage attentiveness and quality service. But too often, it’s been twisted into a shield for entitlement and bad behaviour.
Behind every counter, every café register, every delivery app chat — there’s a human being. Many of them are young Malaysians working long hours, often for modest pay, trying to serve politely even in the face of rudeness. They deserve dignity, not degradation.
Yes, businesses should prioritise customer satisfaction. But customer service does not mean customer submission. When a line is crossed — especially one involving aggression or humiliation — companies must act firmly, as ZUS Coffee did. Protecting staff is not only a moral obligation, it’s good business. A healthy workplace culture builds loyalty, both from employees and from customers who value fairness.
This case also highlights something broader about our social conduct. Courtesy is a two-way street. Malaysians pride themselves on being friendly and respectful — traits that should extend beyond slogans and social media posts. In every café, restaurant, or retail outlet, respect must be mutual.
At the end of the day, coffee can be remade. A bruised ego can heal. But when humanity and empathy are thrown out the window — that’s when society truly loses its flavour.
But the recent ZUS Coffee incident, where a barista was verbally abused and splashed with hot coffee by a customer, forces us to confront an uncomfortable truth: sometimes, the customer is wrong — terribly wrong.
The viral video sparked national outrage. In it, a customer, reportedly from China, hurled insults and a cup of coffee at a young barista after being asked to leave the store.
ZUS Coffee responded swiftly, standing by its employee and condemning the behaviour. The company’s statement — “We stand with our Zurista” — was both compassionate and courageous, sending a clear message: respect is not optional.
And that’s precisely the shift we need to see in customer service culture. The phrase “the customer is king” was never meant to justify abuse. It was meant to encourage attentiveness and quality service. But too often, it’s been twisted into a shield for entitlement and bad behaviour.
Behind every counter, every café register, every delivery app chat — there’s a human being. Many of them are young Malaysians working long hours, often for modest pay, trying to serve politely even in the face of rudeness. They deserve dignity, not degradation.
Yes, businesses should prioritise customer satisfaction. But customer service does not mean customer submission. When a line is crossed — especially one involving aggression or humiliation — companies must act firmly, as ZUS Coffee did. Protecting staff is not only a moral obligation, it’s good business. A healthy workplace culture builds loyalty, both from employees and from customers who value fairness.
This case also highlights something broader about our social conduct. Courtesy is a two-way street. Malaysians pride themselves on being friendly and respectful — traits that should extend beyond slogans and social media posts. In every café, restaurant, or retail outlet, respect must be mutual.
At the end of the day, coffee can be remade. A bruised ego can heal. But when humanity and empathy are thrown out the window — that’s when society truly loses its flavour.
Road Accidents: It’s Time We Admit the Real Problem
KUALA LUMPUR,Nov 11, 2025: Another week, another tragedy on Malaysian roads. The crash involving a Sultan Idris Education University (UPSI) bus and a Perodua Alza near Tasik Banding, Gerik on June 9, which claimed at least 15 lives and injured dozens more, is yet another grim reminder of how dangerous our roads have become.
Each time such accidents occur, the familiar debate resurfaces — was it the road, the vehicle, or the weather? But Works Minister Datuk Seri Alexander Nanta Linggi’s recent statement cuts through the noise: over 80 per cent of road accidents in Malaysia are caused by driver behaviour, not road conditions.
According to the Malaysian Institute of Road Safety Research (MIROS), of more than half a million accident cases recorded, 12,000 involved serious injuries and 6,000 resulted in deaths — 4,000 of which were motorcyclists. Only about 12 to 13 per cent of these were linked to road factors like potholes or poor weather. The rest, as the data shows, came down to human behaviour — speeding, distraction, recklessness, and a culture of complacency behind the wheel.
Yet, whenever tragedy strikes, many Malaysians are quick to point fingers at the authorities. We blame the roads, the government, or the system. But as Nanta rightly said, “Many are still inclined to blame others and won’t admit their own mistakes.” It’s a hard truth — but one that must be confronted.
Take the Gerik bus crash, for instance. The Transport Ministry’s investigation, backed by viral dashcam footage, found that the bus was travelling at 117 km/h in a 60 km/h zone. That’s not an infrastructure problem. That’s human negligence — pure and simple.
The Works Ministry continues to repair, resurface, and monitor roads nationwide. But no amount of asphalt or signage can fix what’s broken in our driving culture. What Malaysia needs now is not just better roads, but better drivers.
This means stricter enforcement on reckless motorists, mandatory driving refreshers for repeat offenders, and serious consideration of telematics technology — devices that track vehicle speed and driving patterns — especially for commercial and public transport operators. The technology exists. What’s missing is the political will and public discipline to embrace it.
Road safety advocacy must also go beyond campaigns and slogans. It has to start with accountability — from drivers, passengers, and companies alike. Because every time we shrug off responsibility or justify our own bad habits, we’re setting the stage for the next tragedy.
Malaysia’s roads are not the main killers. Our attitudes are. Until that changes, the statistics will continue to climb — and no amount of finger-pointing will bring back the lives already lost.
Each time such accidents occur, the familiar debate resurfaces — was it the road, the vehicle, or the weather? But Works Minister Datuk Seri Alexander Nanta Linggi’s recent statement cuts through the noise: over 80 per cent of road accidents in Malaysia are caused by driver behaviour, not road conditions.
According to the Malaysian Institute of Road Safety Research (MIROS), of more than half a million accident cases recorded, 12,000 involved serious injuries and 6,000 resulted in deaths — 4,000 of which were motorcyclists. Only about 12 to 13 per cent of these were linked to road factors like potholes or poor weather. The rest, as the data shows, came down to human behaviour — speeding, distraction, recklessness, and a culture of complacency behind the wheel.
Yet, whenever tragedy strikes, many Malaysians are quick to point fingers at the authorities. We blame the roads, the government, or the system. But as Nanta rightly said, “Many are still inclined to blame others and won’t admit their own mistakes.” It’s a hard truth — but one that must be confronted.
Take the Gerik bus crash, for instance. The Transport Ministry’s investigation, backed by viral dashcam footage, found that the bus was travelling at 117 km/h in a 60 km/h zone. That’s not an infrastructure problem. That’s human negligence — pure and simple.
The Works Ministry continues to repair, resurface, and monitor roads nationwide. But no amount of asphalt or signage can fix what’s broken in our driving culture. What Malaysia needs now is not just better roads, but better drivers.
This means stricter enforcement on reckless motorists, mandatory driving refreshers for repeat offenders, and serious consideration of telematics technology — devices that track vehicle speed and driving patterns — especially for commercial and public transport operators. The technology exists. What’s missing is the political will and public discipline to embrace it.
Road safety advocacy must also go beyond campaigns and slogans. It has to start with accountability — from drivers, passengers, and companies alike. Because every time we shrug off responsibility or justify our own bad habits, we’re setting the stage for the next tragedy.
Malaysia’s roads are not the main killers. Our attitudes are. Until that changes, the statistics will continue to climb — and no amount of finger-pointing will bring back the lives already lost.
Influencer’s Behaviour Reflects a Deep Lack of Respect
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 10, 2025: The recent case of a social media influencer making lewd comments about a woman during a livestream is yet another reminder of how easily decency is discarded for attention.
Despite his public apology, such behaviour cannot — and should not — be excused. His conduct was not a careless joke; it was a blatant act of disrespect and humiliation towards another person.
Equally troubling was the reaction of his wife - also an influencer - who was seen laughing it off. By doing so, she became complicit in normalising this kind of verbal abuse.
Both should feel ashamed — not only for their actions, but for what their behaviour teaches their followers about empathy and accountability.
The woman, 26-year-old Russian model Alisa Kasimova, said she filed the report after discovering that she had been recorded without her knowledge while dining at a restaurant in Bukit Bintang. .
During the livestream, the influencer had allegedly made several obscene remarks about her, sparking public backlash online.
Alisa said she decided to take action after receiving advice and concern from others regarding her safety.
"[Many have] told me to go to the police, and I did. I did it not out of anger, but because silence only protects those who hurt others," she wrote on Threads.
Under Section 509 of the Penal Code, it is an offence to use any word or gesture intended to insult the modesty of a person. This section covers acts such as making obscene remarks, gestures, or comments that violate a person’s dignity. Conviction can lead to imprisonment for up to five years, a fine, or both.
Meanwhile, Section 233 of the Communications and Multimedia Act 1998 criminalises the improper use of network facilities — including the sharing or transmission of any communication that is obscene, indecent, false, menacing, or offensive with the intent to annoy, abuse, threaten, or harass others. Offenders may face a fine of up to RM50,000, imprisonment of up to one year, or both.
This incident highlights a worrying trend where some influencers exploit their platforms for shock value, disregarding the real harm they cause. Social media fame is not a shield against the law — nor should it be a licence to demean others.
Despite his public apology, such behaviour cannot — and should not — be excused. His conduct was not a careless joke; it was a blatant act of disrespect and humiliation towards another person.
Equally troubling was the reaction of his wife - also an influencer - who was seen laughing it off. By doing so, she became complicit in normalising this kind of verbal abuse.
Both should feel ashamed — not only for their actions, but for what their behaviour teaches their followers about empathy and accountability.
The woman, 26-year-old Russian model Alisa Kasimova, said she filed the report after discovering that she had been recorded without her knowledge while dining at a restaurant in Bukit Bintang. .
During the livestream, the influencer had allegedly made several obscene remarks about her, sparking public backlash online.
Alisa said she decided to take action after receiving advice and concern from others regarding her safety.
"[Many have] told me to go to the police, and I did. I did it not out of anger, but because silence only protects those who hurt others," she wrote on Threads.
Under Section 509 of the Penal Code, it is an offence to use any word or gesture intended to insult the modesty of a person. This section covers acts such as making obscene remarks, gestures, or comments that violate a person’s dignity. Conviction can lead to imprisonment for up to five years, a fine, or both.
Meanwhile, Section 233 of the Communications and Multimedia Act 1998 criminalises the improper use of network facilities — including the sharing or transmission of any communication that is obscene, indecent, false, menacing, or offensive with the intent to annoy, abuse, threaten, or harass others. Offenders may face a fine of up to RM50,000, imprisonment of up to one year, or both.
This incident highlights a worrying trend where some influencers exploit their platforms for shock value, disregarding the real harm they cause. Social media fame is not a shield against the law — nor should it be a licence to demean others.
Saturday, November 8, 2025
Siti Nurhaliza Brings Real-World Insight To UiTM
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 9, 2025 : When Universiti Teknologi MARA (UiTM) announced Datuk Seri Siti Nurhaliza Tarudin’s appointment as an Adjunct Professor, social media buzzed with mixed reactions.
Some applauded the move as visionary, others questioned whether a superstar belongs in academia.
But perhaps it’s time we rethink what being a professor — particularly an Adjunct Professor — really means.
In today’s world, universities are no longer ivory towers detached from real life. The best learning happens when theory meets experience — and that’s exactly what an Adjunct Professor brings to the table.
This title isn’t about tenure or publishing academic papers. It’s an honorary position given to individuals who have demonstrated excellence and impact in their fields — be it in business, the arts, or science. They serve as part-time lecturers or mentors, sharing hard-earned insights that can’t be found in textbooks.
In short, they are bridges — connecting classrooms with the real world.
And who better to play that role than Siti Nurhaliza?
For over two decades, she has built an empire that extends far beyond music. From brand-building and entrepreneurship to philanthropy and creative innovation, Siti embodies the very qualities UiTM hopes to instil in its students — resilience, excellence, and authenticity.
As an Adjunct Professor of Entrepreneurship at UiTM’s Faculty of Management and Business, Siti is expected to conduct masterclasses, participate in entrepreneurship forums, and mentor aspiring young talents. More importantly, she brings a living example of how creativity and commerce can coexist with integrity and purpose.
Her appointment also signals something bigger — a recognition that experience and academic achievement are not mutually exclusive. It’s an acknowledgment that success stories from the real world have a place in the lecture hall, too.
So, rather than questioning her credentials, perhaps we should celebrate what this means for education in Malaysia: a step toward inclusivity, relevance, and forward-thinking.
Congratulations, Biduanita Negara. The honour is well-deserved. The title suits you — not just for your voice that has inspired millions, but for the lessons your journey continues to teach.
Because at the end of the day, academia and industry are not rivals. They are partners in progress — and it takes both to create the next generation of dreamers and doers.
Some applauded the move as visionary, others questioned whether a superstar belongs in academia.
But perhaps it’s time we rethink what being a professor — particularly an Adjunct Professor — really means.
In today’s world, universities are no longer ivory towers detached from real life. The best learning happens when theory meets experience — and that’s exactly what an Adjunct Professor brings to the table.
This title isn’t about tenure or publishing academic papers. It’s an honorary position given to individuals who have demonstrated excellence and impact in their fields — be it in business, the arts, or science. They serve as part-time lecturers or mentors, sharing hard-earned insights that can’t be found in textbooks.
In short, they are bridges — connecting classrooms with the real world.
And who better to play that role than Siti Nurhaliza?
For over two decades, she has built an empire that extends far beyond music. From brand-building and entrepreneurship to philanthropy and creative innovation, Siti embodies the very qualities UiTM hopes to instil in its students — resilience, excellence, and authenticity.
As an Adjunct Professor of Entrepreneurship at UiTM’s Faculty of Management and Business, Siti is expected to conduct masterclasses, participate in entrepreneurship forums, and mentor aspiring young talents. More importantly, she brings a living example of how creativity and commerce can coexist with integrity and purpose.
Her appointment also signals something bigger — a recognition that experience and academic achievement are not mutually exclusive. It’s an acknowledgment that success stories from the real world have a place in the lecture hall, too.
So, rather than questioning her credentials, perhaps we should celebrate what this means for education in Malaysia: a step toward inclusivity, relevance, and forward-thinking.
Congratulations, Biduanita Negara. The honour is well-deserved. The title suits you — not just for your voice that has inspired millions, but for the lessons your journey continues to teach.
Because at the end of the day, academia and industry are not rivals. They are partners in progress — and it takes both to create the next generation of dreamers and doers.
Monday, November 3, 2025
No Toques Mi Corazón Nears 400K Views!
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 4, 2025: No Toques Mi Corazón (Don't Touch My Heart) is approaching 400,000 views on TikTok.To be exact, the figures have touched 394.8k. Incredible! I still can’t believe it. Popular Malaysian drummer and vocalist Nur Amira Syahira has won hearts once again with her latest Spanish track, an upbeat Latin dance-pop number that’s clearly resonating with listeners.
For me personally, this is a milestone too — my TikTok has never gone this far. My previous highest view count was 25,000, from a video of a Deepavali high-tea celebration with friends at Sunway Putra Hotel.
Nur Amira wrote, composed, and sang this beautiful Spanish song herself.
And as I type this, my TikTok notifications are still buzzing. Everyone seems to love this catchy, energetic tune — and honestly, so do I!
This song tells the story of a confident, strong woman who refuses to get involved with someone who is already in a relationship. Even though he tries to win her over, she makes it clear she will not be “the other woman” or anyone’s distraction. Instead, she chooses her freedom — to dance, live her life, and avoid being fooled again. The message is one of empowerment, independence, and self-love: if it isn’t real, honest love, she would rather move on and shine on her own.
For me personally, this is a milestone too — my TikTok has never gone this far. My previous highest view count was 25,000, from a video of a Deepavali high-tea celebration with friends at Sunway Putra Hotel.
Nur Amira wrote, composed, and sang this beautiful Spanish song herself.
And as I type this, my TikTok notifications are still buzzing. Everyone seems to love this catchy, energetic tune — and honestly, so do I!
This song tells the story of a confident, strong woman who refuses to get involved with someone who is already in a relationship. Even though he tries to win her over, she makes it clear she will not be “the other woman” or anyone’s distraction. Instead, she chooses her freedom — to dance, live her life, and avoid being fooled again. The message is one of empowerment, independence, and self-love: if it isn’t real, honest love, she would rather move on and shine on her own.
After the Apology: Moving Forward Together
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 3, 2025: Utusan Malaysia has welcomed the end of the controversy following Housing and Local Government Minister Nga Kor Ming’s apology over his remarks against one of its reporters, which sparked backlash last week.
I must commend the response from Media Mulia group editor Mohamad Azlan Jaafar, who graciously accepted Nga’s apology and described it as a positive step forward.
Media Mulia is Utusan Malaysia’s publisher.
His tone and professionalism helped steer the situation toward resolution rather than prolonged friction — a reminder that leadership in the media can also set the tone for national discourse.
Nga had come under criticism after reprimanding an Utusan Malaysia journalist during the pre-launch of his ministry’s “I Lite U” project in Kuala Lumpur. The reporter had asked why the programme’s name was in English rather than Malay, a query that touched on sensitivities surrounding the use of the national language in official programmes.
In his clarification, Nga retracted any remarks that may have caused discomfort and emphasised the government’s commitment to media freedom. He also held an informal session with media representatives, signalling his intent to move forward constructively.
Mohamad Azlan noted that his organisation merely carries out its journalistic duties without prejudice, adding that “this is the only way we can build a respected media institution.” His calm stance allowed the issue to be put to rest and enabled all parties to continue their work without unnecessary distraction.
A Teachable Moment for All
So, what can we take away from this episode?
While Nga’s reaction was understandably criticised, there is also a lesson for the media fraternity. Journalists have every right — and responsibility — to ask challenging questions. But as in all communication, tone matters. A respectful approach does not weaken the question; it strengthens the professionalism behind it.
For instance, the query could have been framed like this:
“YB, considering the government’s emphasis on Bahasa Malaysia in official communication, would it be more appropriate for the Visit Malaysia Year 2026 slogan to be presented in the national language?”
A question phrased in this way remains direct and relevant, yet invites a constructive response rather than confrontation.
Perhaps this is a timely reminder for both sides — media organisations could consider strengthening their training in press-conference etiquette and questioning techniques in both Bahasa Malaysia and English. Likewise, ministers and public officials may benefit from ongoing crisis-communication and media-engagement briefings.
Call to Action
A healthy media environment thrives on mutual respect. Journalists should feel empowered to ask questions confidently and courteously, while leaders must respond with patience, openness and humility.
If we want a media landscape that promotes accountability, fairness and dignity, then we all have a role to play — journalists, leaders and readers alike
I must commend the response from Media Mulia group editor Mohamad Azlan Jaafar, who graciously accepted Nga’s apology and described it as a positive step forward.
Media Mulia is Utusan Malaysia’s publisher.
His tone and professionalism helped steer the situation toward resolution rather than prolonged friction — a reminder that leadership in the media can also set the tone for national discourse.
Nga had come under criticism after reprimanding an Utusan Malaysia journalist during the pre-launch of his ministry’s “I Lite U” project in Kuala Lumpur. The reporter had asked why the programme’s name was in English rather than Malay, a query that touched on sensitivities surrounding the use of the national language in official programmes.
In his clarification, Nga retracted any remarks that may have caused discomfort and emphasised the government’s commitment to media freedom. He also held an informal session with media representatives, signalling his intent to move forward constructively.
Mohamad Azlan noted that his organisation merely carries out its journalistic duties without prejudice, adding that “this is the only way we can build a respected media institution.” His calm stance allowed the issue to be put to rest and enabled all parties to continue their work without unnecessary distraction.
A Teachable Moment for All
So, what can we take away from this episode?
While Nga’s reaction was understandably criticised, there is also a lesson for the media fraternity. Journalists have every right — and responsibility — to ask challenging questions. But as in all communication, tone matters. A respectful approach does not weaken the question; it strengthens the professionalism behind it.
For instance, the query could have been framed like this:
“YB, considering the government’s emphasis on Bahasa Malaysia in official communication, would it be more appropriate for the Visit Malaysia Year 2026 slogan to be presented in the national language?”
A question phrased in this way remains direct and relevant, yet invites a constructive response rather than confrontation.
Perhaps this is a timely reminder for both sides — media organisations could consider strengthening their training in press-conference etiquette and questioning techniques in both Bahasa Malaysia and English. Likewise, ministers and public officials may benefit from ongoing crisis-communication and media-engagement briefings.
Call to Action
A healthy media environment thrives on mutual respect. Journalists should feel empowered to ask questions confidently and courteously, while leaders must respond with patience, openness and humility.
If we want a media landscape that promotes accountability, fairness and dignity, then we all have a role to play — journalists, leaders and readers alike
Saturday, November 1, 2025
Nga Kor Ming’s Outburst: A Lesson in Respect for the Media
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 1, 2025: Housing and Local Government Minister Nga Kor Ming has found himself in hot water after scolding a Utusan Malaysia journalist for asking why the “I Lite U” project — launched for Visit Malaysia Year 2026 — was named in English instead of Bahasa Malaysia.
Rather than giving a simple explanation, Nga demanded to know which media outlet the journalist represented and warned that he would be contacting Utusan’s chief editor. His comments, caught on video, spread quickly online — and not in a flattering way.
Critics, including UMNO Youth chief Datuk Dr Muhamad Akmal Saleh, accused Nga of hypocrisy, pointing out that when he was in the opposition, he spoke loudly about media freedom. Now, as a minister, he seemed easily offended by a fair question. PAS leaders also reminded Nga that a recent government circular requires the use of Bahasa Malaysia in all official communication.
Academician Prof Datuk Dr Ahmad Murad Merican of the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTAC), International Islamic University Malaysia, urged the Malaysian Media Council (MMC) to intervene.
“The MMC cannot ignore its duty to protect the journalism profession. Otherwise, it would be deemed negligent. The Council has moral authority in addressing intimidation against journalists. If it wishes to be firm — as it should — it must remind those involved of Section 503 of the Penal Code,” he said.
Meanwhile, two National Journalism Laureattes have joined the growing calls urging Nga to apologise for his conduct towards the journalist.
National Journalism Laureatte Datuk Kadir Jasin called on the journalist to lodge a complaint to the MMC. Kadir, who is former group editor-in-chief of the New Straits Times Press said disagreements between public figures - particularly politicians - and journalists are counterproductive and should be avoided.
He said the incident could have been avoided if Nga had acted professionally and refrained from threatening to complain about the Malay journalist to their editor.
"If you are afraid of being questioned by journalists, don't hold a press conference or grant interviews, especially with television reporters," he said in a Facebook post recently.
National Journalism Laureate Tan Sri Johan Jaaffar called on Nga to apologise to the journalist and the wider media fraternity, describing the minister’s reaction as 'regrettable' and reflected poorly on the government's relationship with the media.
"Journalists have the right to ask any question, and as a minister, Nga Koh Ming should have responded in a reasonable and respectable manner. The way he reacted to such a simple and non-provocative question was disappointing and unbecoming of a leader," he said.
"Ministers must not be seen using their power or position to bully or intimidate journalists. They should respect the institution of the press — not question or threaten it,” he said.
At its core, this incident goes beyond a mere language issue. It is about respect for the media and accountability in leadership. Journalists are simply doing their job when they ask tough questions — and true leaders are defined not by how they handle praise, but by how they respond to scrutiny.
Rather than giving a simple explanation, Nga demanded to know which media outlet the journalist represented and warned that he would be contacting Utusan’s chief editor. His comments, caught on video, spread quickly online — and not in a flattering way.
Critics, including UMNO Youth chief Datuk Dr Muhamad Akmal Saleh, accused Nga of hypocrisy, pointing out that when he was in the opposition, he spoke loudly about media freedom. Now, as a minister, he seemed easily offended by a fair question. PAS leaders also reminded Nga that a recent government circular requires the use of Bahasa Malaysia in all official communication.
Academician Prof Datuk Dr Ahmad Murad Merican of the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation (ISTAC), International Islamic University Malaysia, urged the Malaysian Media Council (MMC) to intervene.
“The MMC cannot ignore its duty to protect the journalism profession. Otherwise, it would be deemed negligent. The Council has moral authority in addressing intimidation against journalists. If it wishes to be firm — as it should — it must remind those involved of Section 503 of the Penal Code,” he said.
Meanwhile, two National Journalism Laureattes have joined the growing calls urging Nga to apologise for his conduct towards the journalist.
National Journalism Laureatte Datuk Kadir Jasin called on the journalist to lodge a complaint to the MMC. Kadir, who is former group editor-in-chief of the New Straits Times Press said disagreements between public figures - particularly politicians - and journalists are counterproductive and should be avoided.
He said the incident could have been avoided if Nga had acted professionally and refrained from threatening to complain about the Malay journalist to their editor.
"If you are afraid of being questioned by journalists, don't hold a press conference or grant interviews, especially with television reporters," he said in a Facebook post recently.
National Journalism Laureate Tan Sri Johan Jaaffar called on Nga to apologise to the journalist and the wider media fraternity, describing the minister’s reaction as 'regrettable' and reflected poorly on the government's relationship with the media.
"Journalists have the right to ask any question, and as a minister, Nga Koh Ming should have responded in a reasonable and respectable manner. The way he reacted to such a simple and non-provocative question was disappointing and unbecoming of a leader," he said.
"Ministers must not be seen using their power or position to bully or intimidate journalists. They should respect the institution of the press — not question or threaten it,” he said.
At its core, this incident goes beyond a mere language issue. It is about respect for the media and accountability in leadership. Journalists are simply doing their job when they ask tough questions — and true leaders are defined not by how they handle praise, but by how they respond to scrutiny.
Malaysia Needs More Than a Gimmick to Shine
KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 1, 2025: The controversy surrounding the “I LITE U” slogan for Visit Malaysia Year 2026 (VMY2026) has sparked debate far beyond the choice of language. While much of the public attention has centred on the minister’s overreaction to a journalist’s question, the deeper issue lies in what the slogan says — and doesn’t say — about how Malaysia wishes to present itself to the world.
At its core, “I LITE U” is not grammatically correct English. It borrows from the informal style of text messaging, replacing “light” with “lite” and “you” with “U.” This shorthand may sound playful or modern, but it also feels superficial. For a campaign that represents the entire nation, the message should resonate universally and clearly, without the need for explanation or translation.
According to Kuala Lumpur’s Mayor Datuk Seri Dr Maimunah Mohd Sharif, the name is a creative marketing gimmick derived from the words Innovative, Lighting, Infrastructure, Towards, Eco-Elegance and Urbanisation. She explained that it was chosen to spark curiosity and to symbolise the city’s ambition to become a vibrant, sustainable, and smart metropolis that dazzles after dark. There is no denying the cleverness behind the acronym — but cleverness alone is not communication.
Tourism branding is more than just a tagline; it is an emotional promise. “Malaysia Truly Asia”, launched in 1999, succeeded not because it was linguistically catchy, but because it carried truth and warmth. It told the world, in just three words, that Malaysia was the meeting point of Asia’s cultures — Malay, Chinese, Indian, and indigenous — and that this harmony was something to experience. It was rooted in identity, not trend.
“I LITE U,” in contrast, feels detached from Malaysia’s cultural core. Its appeal depends heavily on visuals — glowing lights, neon colours, cityscapes — which may work for promoting Kuala Lumpur’s nightlife, but not for the country’s broader tourism narrative. What about our lush rainforests, serene islands, traditional villages, and rich heritage? A slogan that fits the nation’s story should evoke the sense of discovery and hospitality that travellers feel when they meet Malaysians, not just the buzz of an LED-lit skyline.
Malaysia’s tourism brand must balance modernity with authenticity. There is room for creativity — but it must rest on substance. Alternatives such as “Light Up Your Journey – Terangi Perjalananmu” or “Experience Malaysia in a New Light – Alami Malaysia Dalam Cahaya Baharu” convey a similar visual theme while grounding it in emotional meaning. They speak of renewal, discovery, and personal connection — values that today’s travellers seek in a post-pandemic world.
A slogan like “Light Up Your Journey” invites the traveller to be part of Malaysia’s story. It positions the country not merely as a destination to visit, but as an experience that enriches and illuminates one’s own life. It is welcoming, poetic, and bilingual — a reflection of Malaysia’s linguistic and cultural inclusiveness.
Tourism Malaysia has long shown that campaigns rooted in genuine storytelling create lasting impact. Visitors do not come because of clever acronyms; they come because they feel something. In that sense, Malaysia doesn’t need to “lite” anyone. It already shines — through its people, its diversity, and its enduring warmth. What the world needs is simply a reminder of that light.
At its core, “I LITE U” is not grammatically correct English. It borrows from the informal style of text messaging, replacing “light” with “lite” and “you” with “U.” This shorthand may sound playful or modern, but it also feels superficial. For a campaign that represents the entire nation, the message should resonate universally and clearly, without the need for explanation or translation.
According to Kuala Lumpur’s Mayor Datuk Seri Dr Maimunah Mohd Sharif, the name is a creative marketing gimmick derived from the words Innovative, Lighting, Infrastructure, Towards, Eco-Elegance and Urbanisation. She explained that it was chosen to spark curiosity and to symbolise the city’s ambition to become a vibrant, sustainable, and smart metropolis that dazzles after dark. There is no denying the cleverness behind the acronym — but cleverness alone is not communication.
Tourism branding is more than just a tagline; it is an emotional promise. “Malaysia Truly Asia”, launched in 1999, succeeded not because it was linguistically catchy, but because it carried truth and warmth. It told the world, in just three words, that Malaysia was the meeting point of Asia’s cultures — Malay, Chinese, Indian, and indigenous — and that this harmony was something to experience. It was rooted in identity, not trend.
“I LITE U,” in contrast, feels detached from Malaysia’s cultural core. Its appeal depends heavily on visuals — glowing lights, neon colours, cityscapes — which may work for promoting Kuala Lumpur’s nightlife, but not for the country’s broader tourism narrative. What about our lush rainforests, serene islands, traditional villages, and rich heritage? A slogan that fits the nation’s story should evoke the sense of discovery and hospitality that travellers feel when they meet Malaysians, not just the buzz of an LED-lit skyline.
Malaysia’s tourism brand must balance modernity with authenticity. There is room for creativity — but it must rest on substance. Alternatives such as “Light Up Your Journey – Terangi Perjalananmu” or “Experience Malaysia in a New Light – Alami Malaysia Dalam Cahaya Baharu” convey a similar visual theme while grounding it in emotional meaning. They speak of renewal, discovery, and personal connection — values that today’s travellers seek in a post-pandemic world.
A slogan like “Light Up Your Journey” invites the traveller to be part of Malaysia’s story. It positions the country not merely as a destination to visit, but as an experience that enriches and illuminates one’s own life. It is welcoming, poetic, and bilingual — a reflection of Malaysia’s linguistic and cultural inclusiveness.
Tourism Malaysia has long shown that campaigns rooted in genuine storytelling create lasting impact. Visitors do not come because of clever acronyms; they come because they feel something. In that sense, Malaysia doesn’t need to “lite” anyone. It already shines — through its people, its diversity, and its enduring warmth. What the world needs is simply a reminder of that light.
Tuesday, October 28, 2025
Spanish Song Dominates My TikTok
KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 28, 2025: I’m honestly overwhelmed by the amazing response to my video featuring Amira Syahira’s latest song, No Toques Mi Corazon.
For a Malaysian to compose and perform a song entirely in Spanish — that’s no small feat. What a talent!
As of 1 p.m. on Tuesday, Oct 28, my video has hit 100,000 views — a personal record — with 4,600 likes.
I can’t believe it! Looks like I’m catching a little wave of TikTok fame myself, thanks to this beautifully captivating Spanish song.
The comments have been pouring in, and I’m honestly so touched. Some fans have even reposted my video, while others have turned Amira’s song into their ringtone. And yes, I’ve joined the fun too — No Toques Mi Corazon is now my ringtone!
What amazes me most is how far this “Spanish fever” has spread. I’ve seen groups using her song for exercise routines, sharing their videos with so much energy and joy. A few TikTokers even tried lip-syncing or singing the song themselves. It’s like the whole world’s dancing to the same beat!
I also found out that Amira has been polishing her Spanish with her Latin fans and friends — she even has a WhatsApp group with them! No wonder her pronunciation sounds so natural. One fan commented that her Spanish sounded just like a native speaker’s — and I couldn’t agree more.
Of course, there are always skeptics. Some Malaysians insisted that it couldn’t be her, that it must be AI. But come on — if it were AI, would her song really reach #18 on iTunes Malaysia? That’s pure talent, not technology.
A Little About Amira Syahira
Nur Amira Syahira Azizul Abidin, born on April 25, 2003, in Penang, is a talented drummer, musician, host, singer, and actress. She’s now making her mark on the international stage, especially through her achievements in the Hit Like A Girl Contest and her growing YouTube following.
What’s truly inspiring is how she started. Amira began playing drums at just eight years old — completely self-taught. She learned everything online, watching tutorials on YouTube without a teacher or formal music lessons.
From there, she began recording drum covers and sharing them online, picking up techniques from some of the best drummers around the world.
And now, years later, she’s evolved from a little girl with a drum kit to a confident young artiste breaking language and cultural barriers with her Spanish single, No Toques Mi Corazon.
Reflections
Every time I listen to this song, I feel a quiet sense of pride. Watching a Malaysian artiste like Amira push boundaries and captivate the world — it reminds me that passion knows no language.
As I scroll through the countless comments and videos inspired by her song, I realise that creativity connects us in ways we never expect.
Maybe that’s the magic of music — it speaks directly to the heart, no matter where you come from or what language you speak. ❤
For a Malaysian to compose and perform a song entirely in Spanish — that’s no small feat. What a talent!
As of 1 p.m. on Tuesday, Oct 28, my video has hit 100,000 views — a personal record — with 4,600 likes.
I can’t believe it! Looks like I’m catching a little wave of TikTok fame myself, thanks to this beautifully captivating Spanish song.
The comments have been pouring in, and I’m honestly so touched. Some fans have even reposted my video, while others have turned Amira’s song into their ringtone. And yes, I’ve joined the fun too — No Toques Mi Corazon is now my ringtone!
What amazes me most is how far this “Spanish fever” has spread. I’ve seen groups using her song for exercise routines, sharing their videos with so much energy and joy. A few TikTokers even tried lip-syncing or singing the song themselves. It’s like the whole world’s dancing to the same beat!
I also found out that Amira has been polishing her Spanish with her Latin fans and friends — she even has a WhatsApp group with them! No wonder her pronunciation sounds so natural. One fan commented that her Spanish sounded just like a native speaker’s — and I couldn’t agree more.
Of course, there are always skeptics. Some Malaysians insisted that it couldn’t be her, that it must be AI. But come on — if it were AI, would her song really reach #18 on iTunes Malaysia? That’s pure talent, not technology.
A Little About Amira Syahira
Nur Amira Syahira Azizul Abidin, born on April 25, 2003, in Penang, is a talented drummer, musician, host, singer, and actress. She’s now making her mark on the international stage, especially through her achievements in the Hit Like A Girl Contest and her growing YouTube following.
What’s truly inspiring is how she started. Amira began playing drums at just eight years old — completely self-taught. She learned everything online, watching tutorials on YouTube without a teacher or formal music lessons.
From there, she began recording drum covers and sharing them online, picking up techniques from some of the best drummers around the world.
And now, years later, she’s evolved from a little girl with a drum kit to a confident young artiste breaking language and cultural barriers with her Spanish single, No Toques Mi Corazon.
Reflections
Every time I listen to this song, I feel a quiet sense of pride. Watching a Malaysian artiste like Amira push boundaries and captivate the world — it reminds me that passion knows no language.
As I scroll through the countless comments and videos inspired by her song, I realise that creativity connects us in ways we never expect.
Maybe that’s the magic of music — it speaks directly to the heart, no matter where you come from or what language you speak. ❤
Saturday, October 25, 2025
Of Love, Loss, and a Cat Named Oyen
After losing so much, I found companionship in the gentlest soul — and he never once left my side.
KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 26, 2025: I’ve never really considered myself an active TikToker — I don’t go on Live, and I’m not chasing trends or fame. But I do enjoy creating little videos of my everyday life — my makan-makan outings with friends and family, and the beautiful places I’ve travelled to. My favourite clips are always about food — those irresistible dishes that make each trip memorable.
Recently, I reached the 1K follower mark since my first post in September 2024. I’m not sure if that’s something to be proud of, as it’s been a slow, steady climb — perhaps because I post for joy, not for numbers. For me, TikTok feels more like a personal diary — a space to capture memories that matter.
Among my videos are photos of my late siblings — all of whom have passed on. I was the third in a family of five, and now I’m the only one left. Maybe that’s why companionship feels even more precious these days.
And that brings me to Oyen.
It’s been almost three years since Oyen came into my life. He was only four months old when my former part-time maid brought him over, knowing how much I missed my previous cat, Putih — a beautiful white Persian who passed away at the age of ten due to health complications.
From the moment Oyen arrived, he brought warmth and laughter back into my home. With his thick golden-brown fur, hazel eyes, short chubby legs, and long tail, Oyen is truly one of a kind. He’s friendly with my guests, playful when in the mood, and adorably grumpy during his nap times.
Earlier this year, one of my TikTok videos of Oyen unexpectedly went viral — over 14.1K views! It was a lovely surprise and a reminder of how many cat lovers out there share the same affection and joy these furry friends bring.
Oyen is an indoor cat and was neutered shortly after I adopted him. Besides caring for him, I also feed stray and neighbourhood cats twice a day — and lately, two little kittens that have found shelter behind my house. I sometimes feel sorry that Oyen can’t join them outdoors, but for health reasons — and on my vet’s advice — he must stay inside, as he’s prone to flea allergies.
Still, Oyen never lets me feel alone. Every evening, he waits by the door when I return home — his eyes lighting up as if to say, “Welcome back.” In his quiet way, he fills my days with warmth and companionship.
Oyen isn’t just my pet — he’s family, my loyal companion, and truly, my best friend.
KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 26, 2025: I’ve never really considered myself an active TikToker — I don’t go on Live, and I’m not chasing trends or fame. But I do enjoy creating little videos of my everyday life — my makan-makan outings with friends and family, and the beautiful places I’ve travelled to. My favourite clips are always about food — those irresistible dishes that make each trip memorable.
Recently, I reached the 1K follower mark since my first post in September 2024. I’m not sure if that’s something to be proud of, as it’s been a slow, steady climb — perhaps because I post for joy, not for numbers. For me, TikTok feels more like a personal diary — a space to capture memories that matter.
Among my videos are photos of my late siblings — all of whom have passed on. I was the third in a family of five, and now I’m the only one left. Maybe that’s why companionship feels even more precious these days.
And that brings me to Oyen.
It’s been almost three years since Oyen came into my life. He was only four months old when my former part-time maid brought him over, knowing how much I missed my previous cat, Putih — a beautiful white Persian who passed away at the age of ten due to health complications.
From the moment Oyen arrived, he brought warmth and laughter back into my home. With his thick golden-brown fur, hazel eyes, short chubby legs, and long tail, Oyen is truly one of a kind. He’s friendly with my guests, playful when in the mood, and adorably grumpy during his nap times.
Earlier this year, one of my TikTok videos of Oyen unexpectedly went viral — over 14.1K views! It was a lovely surprise and a reminder of how many cat lovers out there share the same affection and joy these furry friends bring.
Oyen is an indoor cat and was neutered shortly after I adopted him. Besides caring for him, I also feed stray and neighbourhood cats twice a day — and lately, two little kittens that have found shelter behind my house. I sometimes feel sorry that Oyen can’t join them outdoors, but for health reasons — and on my vet’s advice — he must stay inside, as he’s prone to flea allergies.
Still, Oyen never lets me feel alone. Every evening, he waits by the door when I return home — his eyes lighting up as if to say, “Welcome back.” In his quiet way, he fills my days with warmth and companionship.
Oyen isn’t just my pet — he’s family, my loyal companion, and truly, my best friend.
Shut Out of Their Parents Children’s Lives
Time may age their hands, but it should never fade our love.
KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 26, 2025: There’s an old story about a couple who carried their frail, bedridden father into the forest — not to seek peace for him, but to leave him behind.
They placed him gently in a basket, their hearts heavy with guilt. As they turned to leave, their young son asked if he could bring the basket home. When they asked why, he replied softly, “So that I can use it to carry you here when you grow old.”
Shaken by the child’s innocent words, the couple quickly brought their father back home.
That story may sound like something from a distant past, yet its message still echoes in our world today. We may no longer leave our parents in the forest, but many are being left behind in quieter, more modern ways — in old folks’ homes, far from the warmth of family and the laughter they once lived for.
We tell ourselves it’s for their comfort — that professionals can care for them better, that they’ll have company among their peers. But deep down, we know what they truly long for: not comfort or luxury, but closeness. The sound of familiar voices, the laughter of grandchildren, the warmth of being needed and remembered.
Many of these parents have spent a lifetime working, providing, and sacrificing so that their children could live better lives.
Now, in their twilight years, all they ask for is to spend their remaining days surrounded by the love they once gave so freely. Yet modern life often moves too fast — chasing success, comfort, and convenience — leaving little room for tenderness or time.
Sending them away may ease our schedules, but it silently erodes something sacred: the bond that once made us who we are. True care is not measured by how comfortable their beds are, but by how often they feel our presence beside them.
Perhaps it’s time we remember that love is not about ease; it’s about effort. Visiting often, listening with patience, holding their hands — these are simple acts that carry the weight of gratitude. Because one day, the roles will change, and we, too, will wait for footsteps that may or may not come home.
Before time takes them from our sight, let love bring us back to their side.
KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 26, 2025: There’s an old story about a couple who carried their frail, bedridden father into the forest — not to seek peace for him, but to leave him behind.
They placed him gently in a basket, their hearts heavy with guilt. As they turned to leave, their young son asked if he could bring the basket home. When they asked why, he replied softly, “So that I can use it to carry you here when you grow old.”
Shaken by the child’s innocent words, the couple quickly brought their father back home.
That story may sound like something from a distant past, yet its message still echoes in our world today. We may no longer leave our parents in the forest, but many are being left behind in quieter, more modern ways — in old folks’ homes, far from the warmth of family and the laughter they once lived for.
We tell ourselves it’s for their comfort — that professionals can care for them better, that they’ll have company among their peers. But deep down, we know what they truly long for: not comfort or luxury, but closeness. The sound of familiar voices, the laughter of grandchildren, the warmth of being needed and remembered.
Many of these parents have spent a lifetime working, providing, and sacrificing so that their children could live better lives.
Now, in their twilight years, all they ask for is to spend their remaining days surrounded by the love they once gave so freely. Yet modern life often moves too fast — chasing success, comfort, and convenience — leaving little room for tenderness or time.
Sending them away may ease our schedules, but it silently erodes something sacred: the bond that once made us who we are. True care is not measured by how comfortable their beds are, but by how often they feel our presence beside them.
Perhaps it’s time we remember that love is not about ease; it’s about effort. Visiting often, listening with patience, holding their hands — these are simple acts that carry the weight of gratitude. Because one day, the roles will change, and we, too, will wait for footsteps that may or may not come home.
Before time takes them from our sight, let love bring us back to their side.
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