A Family Divide

Uncle Alex's transition to the care center was a meticulously orchestrated affair, cloaked in secrecy. His daughter, asserting herself as his only child, facilitated the move with a narrative that left no room for questioning. With this declaration, Uncle Alex became a resident, his connections to his past and wider family seemingly severed by the stroke of a pen and the weight of unspoken words.

But tranquility is often fleeting.

Like a sudden gust of wind disrupting a calm sea, three unexpected visitors stormed into the center, their presence charged with emotion and urgency. They asserted themselves as Uncle Alex’s true children, voices quivering with a mix of anger and desperation. They accused their sister of duplicitous actions—of orchestrating their father’s quiet departure from the hospital and siphoning his finances without their knowledge or consent.

The center, usually a haven of calm and care, found itself ensnared in the throes of a bitter family feud. Accusations flew like arrows, each one piercing the fragile peace that had enveloped Uncle Alex’s new home. Legal threats loomed ominously in the air, casting a shadow over the center's serene corridors.

Yet amidst the chaos, the director stood resolute. With a calm demeanor and a steady voice, he asserted that the center’s role was to provide care and support, not to mediate familial disputes. "This is a matter for the family to resolve," she stated firmly, her eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and determination.

Caught in the eye of the storm, the center maintained its focus on what it did best—caring for its residents. Uncle Alex, a figure now caught between past and present, continued his days under the center’s attentive care, while the battle for his future raged on beyond its walls.

The story of Uncle Alex and his divided family served as a poignant reminder of the complexities that often accompany the decisions around aged care. It underscored the importance of clarity, communication, and, above all, the need to navigate such transitions with both compassion and integrity.

In the end, while the center could not untangle the knots of familial discord, it remained steadfast in its mission: to be a sanctuary for those in need, offering care and comfort amidst life's inevitable storms.

The Betrayal of the Only Son

 Uncle Lim had been a familiar presence at the center for years. Everyone knew him as a kind and gentle soul, always ready with a smile and a kind word for those around him. In the early 2000s, Uncle Lim, a sprightly man in his sixties, would make his monthly trips to the bank with the assistance of the nurse manager. These outings were more than just a routine; they were a small adventure and a testament to his independence. Uncle Lim would dress in his best clothes, his eyes twinkling with a sense of purpose as he withdrew money for his expenses, carefully managing his finances with a meticulous hand.

As the years went by, age and health began to take their toll. Uncle Lim's once robust frame grew frail, and the simple act of going to the bank became an insurmountable challenge. His legs, once steady, now trembled with the weight of his years. Recognizing his limitations, Uncle Lim made a difficult decision. He entrusted his only son with his savings, believing that his son would care for him as he had cared for him in his youth. With a heavy heart but unwavering trust, Uncle Lim sold his beloved home, the place where countless memories were made, and handed over the proceeds to his son.

The son, who Uncle Lim had raised with love and sacrifice, took the money with promises of ensuring his father's comfort and security. But those promises were as fleeting as the autumn leaves. Instead of using the money for his father's care, the son disappeared without a trace, leaving Uncle Lim with nothing but heartache and betrayal. The news spread quickly through the center, a shocking tale of trust shattered and hope lost.

With his savings gone and no means to support himself, Uncle Lim faced a harsh reality. He was reluctantly transferred to a government-run NGO home, a place where the elderly and destitute found refuge. The transition was not easy. The government home, though providing the basic necessities, lacked the warmth and familiarity of his old life. The vibrant community he once enjoyed was replaced with the quiet, somber halls of the NGO home. 

In this new environment, Uncle Lim found himself surrounded by others who had also faced hardship and betrayal. The rooms were sparsely furnished, a stark contrast to the comfort he once knew. Meals were simple, and the staff, though kind, were overworked and often unable to provide the personal attention that Uncle Lim had grown accustomed to in the private center.

Uncle Lim's once bright future, filled with dreams of spending his golden years surrounded by family, now lay shattered. The betrayal by his only son was a wound that cut deep, leaving scars that no amount of time could heal. Trust, once the foundation of his relationships, was now a painful reminder of what he had lost. Uncle Lim's days were now filled with quiet resignation, his spirit dimmed but not entirely extinguished.

Despite the pain and sense of abandonment, Uncle Lim found a way to cope with his new reality. He spent his days reminiscing about the past, finding solace in the memories of better times. He often thought about his home, the laughter of family gatherings, and the simple joy of tending to his garden. These memories were his refuge, a way to escape the stark reality of his current life.

Uncle Lim found small comforts in the routine of the NGO home. He made friends with other residents, sharing stories and finding common ground in their shared experiences. The staff, though busy, showed genuine care and compassion, and Uncle Lim came to appreciate their efforts. His resilience was a testament to the human spirit's ability to endure, even in the face of profound betrayal. Uncle Lim accepted the hand fate had dealt him with a quiet dignity, his heart heavy but his will unbroken.

In the end, Uncle Lim's story was a poignant reminder of the fragile nature of trust and the enduring strength of the human spirit. Though his dreams had been dashed and his trust betrayed, Uncle Lim continued to live with grace and acceptance, finding peace in the simple act of surviving each day.

ECONOMIC VIABILITY OF CARE SECTOR

Since the establishment of Agecope in 2019, we've made several attempts, both at the national and state levels (specifically in Penang), to address the persistent issue of labor shortages. Ministries such as KPWKM, MOH, and the Home Ministry were approached, with four national-level attempts and two at the state level. This challenge has been a longstanding issue, tracing its roots back through time.

The closest we came to a meaningful discussion on this matter was during Hannah Yeoh's tenure as the deputy of KPWKM. Unfortunately, her time was cut short due to the Sheraton Move, and since then, changing governments has become a frequent occurrence. The onset of Covid-19 brought about a halt to economic activities, further complicating the labor shortage predicament.

Our National committee, consisting of the National Secretary, President, and Committee members, faced challenges during visits to Putrajaya. We found ourselves belittled by various MOH ministers, regardless of political affiliations. There was a prevailing perception that we were opportunistic, utilizing the association for personal financial gains, albeit implicitly.

Upon reflection, it became clear to me that our approach to the ministries was flawed. We presented our labor issues from a CARE perspective, relying on emotional appeals that lacked tangible benefits for the government or the country from a financial standpoint.

It's evident that we, along with other NGOs focused on the elderly, approached the government with a self-interest perspective, which isn't inherently wrong. However, we lacked the economic finesse needed for considerations by the various ministries. Our plea for support resembled the way we approached our parents to buy us a pair of Nike, and we need to acknowledge that our strategy needs a fundamental shift.

In the context of foreign labor for care centers, we've been seen as a cost sector. In conferences and meetings, terms like 'sustainability,' 'rising costs,' and 'financial aid' are recurrent, flowing like the Solo River – one-way, alone, and without reciprocation from authorities.

It's time for a paradigm shift. We must reconsider, reposition, and retell the care narratives from a business perspective. Care is not just a service; it's a vibrant and profitable business that significantly contributes to our society, community, and country. Care operators should be recognized as tax-paying entities, job creators, and economic supporters for local business communities.

There's a multiplier effect within the care industry, and we should be acknowledged as an essential part of nation-building. When care operators provide mental, emotional, and stress relief for family members, it enables them to concentrate on their businesses, becoming effective economic generators in their respective industries.

The entire care industry is built on the foundation of providing peace of mind for caregivers and family members, allowing them to continue their livelihood activities. Therefore, if we are a business that requires labor, there should be a designated sector or sub-sector for all operators to hire foreign labor.

FONG MUNTOH-NATIONAL SECRETARY AGECOPE

GOODNESS OF PAIN

 Recently, I found myself at Old Town Coffee in Bandar Bukit Tinggi, engaged in a heartfelt conversation with my dear friend, Pastor Tan Sin Guan. The weariness etched across his face during his sermon had caught my attention, prompting me to reach out for a chat. I was aware that he had just triumphed over a challenging battle with Covid, an ordeal he candidly admitted he once believed might claim his life.

As we settled into our conversation amidst the cozy ambiance of the coffee place, a heavy yet unspoken nuance lingered in the air. I had summoned Pastor Tan not only to inquire about his well-being but, in a way, to share a possible farewell – a last meeting, a goodbye. I expressed my desire to exchange both a hello and a potential goodbye, acknowledging that it could also serve as a farewell to me.

Our dialogue meandered through various topics, touching upon his frequent hospital visits and my struggles with gout. However, it was the exploration of pain that became the focal point of our conversation. Throughout my years in seminary, discussions on pain and the fear it invokes emerged frequently, often addressed indirectly or skirted around. People, it seemed, were hesitant to reveal their own pains.

In my own experiences, sharing my pains would inevitably awaken the latent healer in those around me. Everyone became an amateur Sinseh, offering recipes and remedies. While well-intentioned, the inundation of supplement pitches and miracle cures via WhatsApp and through friends who had been silent for years became a stark reality.

Here's what I've come to realize: pain is not the adversary we often perceive it to be. Despite its excruciating physical and emotional toll, pain serves a purpose. The perennial question of why a benevolent God allows or creates pain looms large. Pain, I believe, has two fundamental purposes.

Firstly, it serves as a guardian, protecting us from harm. We instinctively avoid actions that cause pain, whether it's cutting ourselves or exposing ourselves to fire. Pain is a guide, preventing us from repeating thoughtless acts.

Secondly, the pain that accompanies injuries or wounds is a testament to our resilience. It communicates that recovery is possible and that pain is not eternal; it can subside with time.

Yet, what about instances where pain persists, refusing to relinquish its grip? This is the profound challenge. Prolonged suffering prompts us to confront our mortality, forcing us to weigh the value of continuing to live amidst relentless pain versus the allure of release through death. I've heard the pleas of the elderly and friends suffering from chronic pain, crying out for release. When death finally arrives, there is a collective sense of relief – for them and for those who stood by in helpless empathy.

The absence of pain can also sow emotional confusion, especially when dealing with a loved one in a coma. The silence of a comatose individual offers no indication of their pain, leaving loved ones torn between the hope for recovery and the difficult decision of letting go. The uncertainty surrounding the duration and conditions of awakening adds to the emotional turmoil.

In sharing these reflections and conversations, I acknowledge that many among us bear burdens in ways that elude understanding. Let me assure you that not all seemingly negative experiences are devoid of purpose. Perhaps, in some small way, this article can provide solace and understanding to those navigating the complex landscape of pain.

Muntoh.

7 HABITS OF HIGHLY AFFABLE SENIORS

This heartfelt dedication is not just a celebration of my parents, especially my dad, who serves as an outstanding example of how to gracefully navigate the senior years while being an affable presence for others.

Entering the realm of seniors, retirees, or the elderly often comes with unfair stereotypes. Seniors are sometimes perceived as long-winded, technologically challenged, fixated on the past, and critical of the youth. I want to challenge these stereotypes and share habits that can help us age gracefully, becoming highly affable and cherished seniors for both outsiders and immediate families.

Habit #1 – Always Have Something Nice to Say:

Taking a page from my dad's book, I've learned the power of a kind word. Whether addressing a former Member of Parliament or interacting with individuals of all ages and appearances, my dad taught me to use endearing terms like "sister" for older ladies and "pretty girl" for ladies of any age. The intention is not to deceive but to bring a moment of joy to their lives.

Habit #2 – Never Deny a Good Offer, Always Say Yes:

My dad's philosophy on accepting invitations, especially those involving food, is a valuable lesson. He taught us never to refuse our children's invitations, even if the food or place isn't our preference. Saying yes to these invitations builds connections and creates cherished memories.

Habit #3 – Be a Contributor and Helper:

A generous spirit defines my dad. His knack for farming and sharing the produce with friends exemplifies the importance of contributing to the well-being of others, both within the family and the community.

Habit #4 – Be a Happy Person:

Grumpiness repels, and my dad's cheerful demeanor, coupled with his knack for humor, made him a joy to be around. Choosing happiness over complaints is a habit that not only benefits oneself but also radiates positivity to those around.

Habit #5 – Always Make Yourself Happy:

Indulging in personal pleasures, like my dad's secret morning prawn treat, is a reminder to prioritize one's happiness. Balancing self-care with familial responsibilities is a key to contentment.

Habit #6 – Have Hobbies Just for Yourself:

Cultivating personal hobbies, whether it's reading, gardening, or cooking, ensures a fulfilling life even when friends are no longer present. My dad's love for solitary activities like reading the newspaper and tending to his garden reflects this principle.

Habit #7 – Be Contented:

Having experienced both financial highs and lows, my dad's contentment in any circumstance taught me the value of finding joy in the present moment. Regardless of external circumstances, a contented heart is a source of lasting happiness.

In their journey together, my mom and dad were an affable couple, embodying a legacy of love. As I strive to emulate their example, I'm reminded that the key to being a cherished senior lies in embracing these habits of kindness, gratitude, and contentment

IS MALAYSIA THE NEW PHILIPINES & INDONESIA?

Now we start to worry.

Recently, a viral picture featuring screenshots from Free Malaysia Today highlighted Johor's struggle with a shortage of 15,000 nurses. The reported reason? Many nurses are lured to work in Singapore due to higher pay and favorable exchange rates.

The immediate thought that crosses my mind is, "What's wrong if nurses seek higher earnings?" In fact, why should Malaysians not aspire to increase their income? The depreciation of the Ringgit against the Singapore Dollar since independence raises questions about the government's sincere efforts to boost the economy. Often, economic initiatives lead to projects benefiting cronies rather than addressing the root issues.

As the nursing shortage raises concerns, we must ponder: Is it so terrible if Malaysia becomes an exporter of skilled and unskilled labor? Migration for economic opportunities is not a new phenomenon. Malaysian nurses have sought better prospects in the Middle East, Australia, and the United Kingdom, while unskilled workers have ventured to the UK, Japan, Taiwan, and the US since the 70s.

In Malaysia, the ongoing debate on minimum wage reveals a lack of resolve from the Human Resource Minister. Flip-flopping in response to employer and trade association concerns undermines efforts to address the rising cost of living. Claims that RM1,500 is a good wage overlook the challenges of responsibilities, burdens, and children's needs in today's economic climate.

Our purported low inflation rate may be a misleading statistic. Outdated methodologies mask the true impact of inflation, creating a facade of economic stability. The closure of nursing colleges in the past decade has further limited the supply of nurses, with many former students burdened by PTPN loans.

It's disheartening to witness power-holders prioritizing personal gain over the well-being of the nation. Scandals and abuses across ministries paint a grim picture. As Malaysians seek opportunities abroad for a decent living, it raises concerns about the nation's future. While this situation is worrying, it is the leaders, not the people, who bear responsibility for the consequences.

If we are not careful, Malaysia may follow in the footsteps of the Philippines or Indonesia. It's a stark reality that Malaysians might become overseas workers, a fate none deserve but one that may become inevitable if meaningful changes are not implemented

IS CARING WITHOUT COMPASSION POSSIBLE?

"Balancing Compassion and Business in Aged Care Centers: A Reflection on Caregiver Dynamics"

In the realm of aged care, it's not uncommon to encounter caregivers who, while providing essential services, may lack a deep sense of compassion. These individuals, whom I refer to as 'Incidental Carers and Professionals,' are not inherently bad people, and their motivations often stem from pragmatic reasons rather than malice. Understanding the reasons behind this phenomenon can shed light on potential solutions for fostering a more compassionate care environment.

Reasons for Care Without Compassion:

1. Need to Put Food on the Table:
   Many caregivers fall into the caregiving profession out of economic necessity. Foreign maids, constrained by their job descriptions, and individuals bound by socio-economic constraints often find themselves in caregiving roles. These circumstances limit their choices and job options.

2. Limited Job Options:
   Some individuals, especially those not academically inclined or seeking higher education opportunities, may enter the aged care industry due to limited job options or parental influence.

Solving the Compassion Issue:

Building Systemic Compassion Structure:

1. Build Systems with Compassion as a Foundation:
   Integrate compassion into the core of caregiving systems. Establish schedules ensuring care activities are performed, and implement Well-Being programs for residents. Recognize that compassion and systematic care are interconnected; both must be prioritized for an effective caregiving environment.

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3. Build Your Business on the Foundation of Love:
   Business owners of care centers must infuse compassion into their core beliefs. While profits are essential, prioritizing the greater good and genuinely believing in the positive impact on the community is paramount. Aged care is an embodiment of economics, love, and compassion.

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5. Build Your System on a Higher Moral Ground:
   Make decisions and establish processes on a higher moral ground. Ask the question, "Do I have no regrets?" and ensure that your actions align with sound philosophies and solid moral values. Strive to do your best, even in challenging circumstances.

In Conclusion:

While caring without compassion may be possible, it is often stressful for caregivers and may not be a sustainable approach. Those who endure likely face personal challenges, making it crucial to acknowledge their circumstances. Balancing compassion and business in aged care requires building systemic structures infused with compassion, establishing businesses on the foundation of love, and adhering to higher moral values. By doing so, we create a holistic and sustainable approach to caregiving, ensuring both the well-being of caregivers and the quality of care provided to the elderly.