As Malaysia celebrates another year of independence, I find myself reflecting not only as a postgraduate anesthesiology student and a father to two young daughters, but also as a Malaysian who deeply believes that health and education are the true pillars of nation building.
These are the foundations that lift families out of poverty, that allow children to dream, and that sustain a nation’s strength. Yet too often, they are the very sectors where sacrifices are demanded, where budgets are trimmed, and where those serving at the frontlines are left to shoulder the heaviest burdens.
During my attachment at Tunku Azizah Hospital, I was humbled by the pediatric patients I met; children facing illnesses that would shake even the strongest adults. I saw a young patient with a brain tumor who, despite surgery, is now paralysed and dependent on a ventilator.
I met a toddler with retinoblastoma of the eye, who has already lost one eye, and whose remaining eye now faces the same fate. I saw children who could not swallow, fed only through tubes, and others surviving on long-term intravenous antibiotics and nutrition.
Yet what struck me most was not their suffering, but their strength. These children despite being fragile in body yet unbreakable in spirit, continue to smile, to laugh, and to hold on to hope.
Their parents and siblings, too, place their trust entirely in us, the health care workers and the system that serves them. It is a trust that carries immense weight, one that can only be fulfilled when our hospitals are staffed with enough doctors, nurses, medical assistants, and support teams to care for them.
But today, we are at a dangerous crossroads. Nurses who are the backbone of our health system are leaving in large numbers for better pay and fairer working hours abroad. Medical officers and even specialists are joining this wave.
Assistant medical officers (PPPs), who are vital in emergency care and specialist clinics, are in severe shortage, with thousands of vacancies unfilled. When the government was asked to raise doctors’ on-call allowances, which will cost the government around RM80 million per year, the proposal was rejected to “save” several million ringgit — penny wise, pound foolish.
What is saved in accounting sheets today will be paid in the collapse of our workforce tomorrow.
Meanwhile, Members of Parliament can earn up to RM40,000 a month, over 2,200 per cent higher than the minimum wage. Yet, the people most crucial to the survival of our children and families, the ones who hold hands in the intensive care unit (ICU) at midnight, who open chests in the operating theatre at 3am, who fight infections for weeks on end are told to make do with less, to endure, to sacrifice.
We claim independence, yet in many ways we are still chained by a colonial mindset. We boast of the tallest towers, the longest bridges, the biggest infrastructure, but what use is grandeur if the rakyat cannot access first-class health care?
True independence is not about monuments. It is about lifting the ordinary Malaysian, ensuring that every child and rakyat has the chance to heal.
This Malaysia Day, I plead with our leaders: do not treat health care as an expense to be trimmed, but as an investment in the very soul of our nation. Retain our workers by valuing them, by paying them fairly, and by respecting their sacrifices.
Every resignation letter from a nurse, every migration of a doctor, every unfilled post of a medical assistant is not just a number but a wound to the nation, one that our children will feel the most.
To my fellow health care workers; doctors, nurses, medical assistants, and every unsung hero in our hospitals, I bow my head in gratitude. You have sacrificed sweat and tears, family dinners, and nights of rest.
You have stood in operating theatres at 3 in the morning, fighting fatigue as fiercely as you fight for your patients. You have endured long hours, heavy workloads, and at times, unfair rewards, yet you keep showing up, because you know a life depends on it.
You are the heartbeat of Malaysia’s health service. Without you, the children I met at Tunku Azizah Hospital would be left without hope.
To my superiors and mentors, thank you for shaping me not only into a better doctor, but also a better human being. Your wisdom, patience, and example remind me daily that medicine is not just about knowledge or skill, but about service and sacrifice.
I am humbled to learn under your guidance, and I carry your lessons with me as I journey forward.
This Malaysia Day, I dedicate my prayers and hopes to you, the true guardians of this nation’s health. May our leaders finally see your worth and may Malaysia one day reward you not only with words of praise, but with the respect and support you truly deserve.
Dr Muhammad Yassin is currently a third-year anesthesiology master trainee and a passionate advocate for health care reforms and improvements.
- This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of CodeBlue.
