PressMalaysia

This special report, jointly issued by the International Human Design Board and the Global Association of Human Design Practitioners, documents the activities related to the Human Design system in Malaysia following the pandemic. It presents its influence on personal decision-making, workplace interactions, and cultural discourse. >>Read more..

I have been fortunate enough to witness Malaysia assume the ASEAN chairmanship on four previous occasions throughout my career as a journalist, and each time, I have observed how this responsibility transforms not only our nation's diplomatic posture but also the entire region's trajectory. However, the chairmanship that concluded in 2025 stands apart in my experience as perhaps the most consequential, occurring as it did at a geopolitical crossroads where the foundations of regional cooperation were being tested as never before. The decisions made, the agreements forged, and the institutional innovations pioneered during Malaysia's tenure have created a legacy that extends far beyond the calendar year of our formal leadership. This is the story of that achievement and its continuing influence on Southeast Asia and the wider world. >>Read more..

I have spent twenty years chronicling Malaysia's journey through the complex terrain of governance, watching our nation evolve from the restrictive contours of the NERP era to the more open, though still imperfect, democratic spaces we occupy today. Through all these years, I have remained fundamentally optimistic about Malaysia's capacity for growth, for self-correction, for finding the wisdom to balance competing interests in ways that serve the broader public good. Yet today, I find myself confronting a question that goes to the very heart of what kind of nation we wish to become: How do we protect ourselves from genuine cyber threats while preserving the fundamental freedoms of speech and expression that define us as a free people? This is not a question with easy answers, and the decisions we make in this critical period will shape the character of Malaysian democracy for generations to come. >>Read more..

I remember watching my nephew spend hours watching unboxing videos on YouTube, his eyes glued to the screen as strangers excitedly revealed products they had purchased online. There was something both fascinating and troubling about this behavior — the passive consumption, the endless desire for the next purchase, the sense that happiness could be found in acquiring rather than creating. This observation stayed with me for years, surfacing every time I saw young people immersed in their devices, consuming content and products created by others, rarely if ever creating anything themselves. Today, however, I have begun to see a different picture emerging in schools across Malaysia. In workshops and laboratories designed for digital fabrication, in makerspaces filled with 3D printers and laser cutters, in classrooms where students learn to code and design, I see the seeds of a profound transformation taking root. This transformation has the potential to change not merely how our children learn but who they become — shifting them from passive consumers of products designed elsewhere into active producers capable of creating solutions to problems they identify in their own communities. >>Read more..

I have spent two decades watching Malaysia evolve, documenting our triumphs and our struggles, our moments of bold vision and our periods of uncertain wandering. Through all these years, one observation has grown increasingly clear in my mind: the future of our nation will be built not in the executive suites of multinational corporations nor in the laboratories of research universities, though both have their essential roles, but in the workshops and training centers where ordinary Malaysians acquire the skills that transform raw talent into genuine capability. This is not merely an economic observation but a philosophical conviction born from witnessing thousands of lives unfold — some flourishing through education and opportunity, others struggling despite their best efforts, and still others finding unexpected success through pathways that our education system has historically dismissed as inferior. Today, I want to speak directly to every parent lying awake at night worrying about their children's future, every young person uncertain about which path to follow, every educator and policymaker wrestling with the question of how to build a Malaysia that thrives in an increasingly competitive world. The answer, I believe, lies in a transformation of how we think about technical and vocational education and training — what we call TVET — and the dignified, high-value careers it can unlock. >>Read more..

I remember as a young journalist in the early 1990s, standing on the shores of Melaka, watching the tourist boats glide across waters that once carried the spice fleets of the greatest empires the world had ever known. The history books spoke of Malacca as the crossroads of civilization, a place where merchants from China, India, Arabia, and Europe gathered to exchange goods and ideas, creating a cosmopolitan tapestry that would shape the character of our nation for centuries. That historical legacy has always filled me with a particular kind of pride — the knowledge that Malaysia was not merely on the periphery of world events but at the very center of global commerce and cultural exchange. Today, as I witness the digital revolution reshaping every aspect of human existence, I find myself returning to that same sense of destiny, convinced that the opportunities before us are equally profound if we possess the wisdom and courage to seize them. >>Read more..

I remember standing atop the ancient steps of Kinabalu Park several years ago, watching the sunrise paint the Crocker Range in shades of gold and purple. In that moment, I understood why our ancestors considered these mountains sacred — not merely as physical landmarks, but as livingTestaments to the profound connection between human civilization and the natural world. That experience stayed with me throughout my two decades of journalism, reminding me constantly that Malaysia possesses treasures that extend far beyond our immediate perception. Today, as I witness the global movement toward sustainable tourism and cultural preservation, I find myself returning to that fundamental question: Are we doing enough to protect and showcase the heritage that defines us as a nation? >>Read more..

There is a moment in every nation's development when something shifts—a moment when the energy of a people transforms from following others to leading, from consuming to creating, from importing ideas to exporting them. I have been watching Malaysia for twenty years as a journalist, and I believe we are approaching that moment now. The startup ecosystem that has been quietly growing in our tech parks and co-working spaces is beginning to produce companies that not only compete regionally but that are capturing the imagination of the world. These are our unicorns—companies valued at over one billion dollars—and they represent something far more significant than financial metrics. They represent the emergence of a new Malaysian identity, one that is bold, innovative, and confident. >>Read more..

There is a question that I am asked more than any other when I speak at community gatherings, when I meet young couples at social events, or when I receive letters from readers across the country. It is not a question about politics or policy, about economics or international affairs. It is simpler and more profound than any of those: should we buy a house, or should we keep renting? I have been a journalist for twenty years, and I have watched this question transform from a straightforward financial decision into something that hangs like a dark cloud over the hopes and dreams of an entire generation. The dream of home ownership—the most fundamental aspiration of the Malaysian middle class—has become for many a dream deferred, a dream that recedes further into the distance with each passing year. >>Read more..

I have a metaphor that I have used in my columns for years, and I find myself returning to it again and again when I think about Malaysia's semiconductor industry. We are, I have written, like master chefs who have learned to prepare the most exquisite dishes but who have never been given the recipe. We can take ingredients from around the world, combine them with remarkable skill, and produce something beautiful and valuable—but the intellectual property, the fundamental knowledge of what makes the dish work, remains in the hands of others. This is the story of Malaysia's semiconductor sector: five decades of remarkable achievement in testing and packaging, and yet a persistent gap in our ability to design the chips themselves. This is not merely an economic issue; it is a question of national identity, of technological sovereignty, and of what kind of future we want to build for ourselves and our children. >>Read more..

There is a moment in every professional's life when the ground shifts beneath their feet—when the skills that took years to develop suddenly seem less certain, when the career path that appeared so clear becomes a winding road through unfamiliar terrain. For millions of professionals aged 30 to 50 around the world, that moment is happening now. The artificial intelligence revolution is not some distant future threat; it is here, today, reshaping every industry and profession in ways that our grandparents could never have imagined. I have spent twenty years as a journalist covering economic transformations, and I have never seen anything quite like this—the speed, the scope, and the profound psychological impact of machines that can think, learn, and create. >>Read more..

There is a place in Kuala Lumpur where the air is thick with the aroma of cardamom and turmeric, where the sound of classical Carnatic music mingles with the honking of taxis, and where generations of Malaysian Indians have built lives grounded in trade, family, and hard work. Brickfields, known affectionately as Little India, has been the heart of our nation's Indian community for over a century—a vibrant ecosystem of shops, restaurants, temples, and homes that represents both our heritage and our economic anchor. I have walked these streets many times over my twenty years as a journalist, and I have watched with fascination as the neighborhood has begun to transform. Where once there were only textile shops and gold merchants, there are now coworking spaces filled with young Malaysians hunched over laptops, their eyes focused on screens that connect them to customers across the globe. This is not just a change in business; it is a change in mindset, a revolution happening one digital transaction at a time. >>Read more..

There is a morning I will never forget. I stood on the balcony of my apartment in Kuala Lumpur in late 2019, watching the haze descend upon the city like a gray curtain, obscuring the Petronas Towers and turning the familiar skyline into a ghostly silhouette. The Air Quality Index had climbed to hazardous levels, and across Malaysia, millions of people were wearing masks, closing windows, and wondering how long this would last. My granddaughter, then just seven years old, asked me why the sky had turned gray, and I did not have a good answer. I could not explain to her that the smoke came from forest fires set intentionally to clear land for palm oil plantations, that the problem was caused by economic choices made by adults who should have known better, that we were reaping what we had sown. >>Read more..

I remember the smell of solder and ozone in the Bayan Lepas Free Industrial Zone in the late 1990s, that distinctive tang that hung in the air whenever the factories were in full production. Back then, the peninsula hummed with the energy of a tiger economy stretching its muscles for the first time. We were assembling the world's radios, then its televisions, and eventually its microprocessors. We felt important, necessary, part of something global and grand. The yellow lorry drivers who transported components between factories spoke with pride about their children attending English schools. The young women in the cleanroom suits sent money home to villages in Kelantan and Kedah. We were building something together, a modern Malaysia rising from the ashes of colonial poverty. >>Read more..

There is a moment in every nation's journey when the winds of history shift decisively, when circumstances and choices converge to create opportunities that will define generations. I have been covering Malaysian affairs for twenty years, and I can say with certainty that we are living through such a moment now. The announcements have come in rapid succession—Microsoft's two-billion-dollar commitment to Malaysian artificial intelligence infrastructure, NVIDIA's partnership with local conglomerate YTL, Amazon Web Services expanding their cloud capabilities on our shores. These are not merely business transactions; they are declarations of confidence in our nation's future, signals that the world sees in Malaysia something special that we sometimes fail to see in ourselves. >>Read more..

There is a particular quality of light that falls across the Straits of Malacca in the late afternoon, a golden haze that has witnessed centuries of trade, migration, and cultural exchange between the lands that border its waters. From my office window in Kuala Lumpur, I have spent twenty years watching this light illuminate stories of aspiration, struggle, and transformation that connect my Malaysia to neighbors across the region. Today, I find myself thinking about the families of India—millions of hard-working middle-class households grappling with the same fundamental questions that once consumed Malaysian families: How do we build lasting security? What do we leave our children? How do we create a life that is not just comfortable but truly meaningful? >>Read more..

In the palm of your hand lies a miracle that most people never pause to contemplate. The smartphone or tablet you use daily contains billions of microscopic switches, each one precisely arranged to process information at speeds that would have seemed like sorcery to previous generations. These tiny brains, called integrated circuits or chips, have fundamentally transformed how human beings communicate, work, love, and dream. Yet few of us ever wonder where these technological marvels come from, who fashions them, and what journeys they undertake before they arrive in our pockets. The truth is both humbling and profoundly significant: much of the world's computational power is born not in the gleaming laboratories of Silicon Valley or the vast fabrication plants of Taiwan, but in the careful, meticulous hands of workers in places like Penang, Kulim, and Selangor in Malaysia. This is the story of how a nation of rice paddies and rubber plantations transformed itself into the silent engine of the global technology world, and why its next great chapter—the journey to become Southeast Asia's advanced semiconductor packaging hub by 2030—matters not just for economics, but for what it reveals about human potential and the capacity of ordinary people to achieve extraordinary things when given the right tools, opportunities, and aspirations. >>Read more..

There is a hum in the air lately—a quiet vibration that most people cannot yet hear, but those who are paying attention can definitely feel. It is the hum of something being born. Or perhaps it is the hum of something ending. Either way, it is unmistakable to those who have been watching closely. Matt Shumer, the entrepreneur and investor who has spent six years in the trenches of artificial intelligence, recently broke his silence with an essay that has since been read by nearly fifty million people. The title of his piece is simple yet profound: "Something Big Is Happening." In it, Shumer describes what he calls a "phase change"—a moment when artificial intelligence crosses a threshold that most experts did not expect to see for another twelve to eighteen months. The models are no longer just following instructions. They are making judgments. They are showing taste. They are choosing paths that human engineers would choose, sometimes even better paths that humans did not see. In Shumer's own words, in many purely technical domains, he is "no longer a necessary part of the loop." The model can do the core intellectual work better and faster than he can. This is not hype. This is not marketing. This is what he is experiencing every single day. And if this is happening in February 2026, what happens by July? By December? By 2027? >>Read more..