SOUL SCRIBBLES

Donald Trump ’s upcoming visit to Kuala Lumpur for the ASEAN Summit is not just another headline — it’s a high-stakes test of diplomacy, restraint and regional relevance. For Malaysia , hosting the U.S. President is a diplomatic win. It reinforces our standing as a neutral and credible convener — able to bring the world’s major powers to the table without appearing to take sides. In a region increasingly shaped by U.S.-China rivalry , that balance matters more than ever. Trump’s presence offers ASEAN a rare opportunity to speak directly to Washington on issues that hit close to home — from U.S. tariff threats on semiconductors and pharmaceuticals , to the humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza. Malaysia has made clear that engagement with the U.S. does not mean endorsement of its Middle East policy. On the contrary, it provides a platform to press for moral accountability alongside economic stability. But there’s an elephant in the room. Trump is no ordinary statesman. His record of shooti...

When the government announced in Budget 2026 that RM600 million would be spent to restore Carcosa Seri Negara , reactions were swift — admiration from some, disbelief from others. It’s easy to see why. The figure sounds hefty when many Malaysians are struggling with high living costs and public institutions are pleading for funds. Yet dismissing the plan outright risks overlooking what Carcosa represents — a piece of Malaysia’s history slowly fading from memory. So, is the project worth it? That depends on how we define value — and whether Khazanah Nasional , tasked with leading the project, can make the restoration of more than a vanity exercise. Done right, it could deliver more than nostalgia. Restored heritage sites elsewhere have become powerful economic and cultural engines. Singapore’s Raffles Hotel and Bangkok’s Mandarin Oriental attract visitors not just for luxury, but for legacy. Malaysia could do the same — blending heritage, commerce, and storytelling to create a dest...

As the state heads to the polls, Sabahans are asking a deeper question — will this election finally give them the dignity and autonomy they’ve long been promised? Every few years, Sabah becomes the darling of Malaysian politics. Suddenly, federal leaders descend on Kota Kinabalu with pledges of progress, promises of development, and talk of honouring the Malaysia Agreement 1963 (MA63). And every few years, after the ballots are counted, the attention fades. The roads remain uneven, rural schools still lack basic facilities, and the familiar feeling of neglect returns. This is the pattern Sabahans know all too well — a state rich in resources but poor in returns, abundant in political attention but short on sustained respect. But this coming state election feels different. Not because the names on the ballot are new, but because the political mood has changed. Younger Sabahans, in particular, are restless. They are better informed, more connected, and far less patient with empty rhetori...

  Reading has always been a quiet kind of magic in my life. Long before I understood its importance, books were already part of my childhood. My parents had a simple but thoughtful tradition — birthdays and special occasions often came wrapped not just in ribbons and paper, but in words and pictures. While some children unwrapped toys or gadgets, we often unwrapped books. Looking back, I realise just how deliberate and precious that was. The earliest gifts I remember were comics —  Beano  and  Dandy . Their cheeky characters, mischief, and slapstick humour filled our days with laughter. Each week’s issue was something to look forward to, and I would pore over the pages again and again until the corners curled and the colours faded. At Christmas and year’s end, the excitement was always doubled because of the annuals. Thick, colourful, and sturdy, they felt like treasure chests brimming with puzzles, stories, and illustrations. To me, those annuals were more than pres...

In Malaysia’s parliamentary system, we don’t vote directly for a prime minister — we vote for Members of Parliament. Then, the party or coalition with enough seats decides who gets the top job. That is why parties love to roll out their “prime minister candidate” before an election. A poster boy, if you will. In theory, it seems a smart move. Naming a PM candidate gives one, clarity where voters know exactly who they are    buying into; two, signals   unity where a single name shows the coalition can agree on something, which is no small feat these days; and three, creates a face for the campaign where a strong, popular candidate can carry the entire election. But let’s be honest: this is a gamble. A loved candidate can turn the tide but an unpopular one can drag the whole campaign down. Take GE14 in 2018. Pakatan Harapan’s masterstroke was naming Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad as their PM candidate — at 92! Risky? Sure. But it worked. His name reassured fence-sitters, gave PH a...

Every year, 16 September comes quietly. There are no fireworks as grand as Merdeka, no parades filling the streets. Yet Malaysia Day has a special weight — it is the day we truly became a nation. On this date in 1963, Malaya, Sabah, Sarawak, and Singapore came together to form Malaysia. It was not just a line on a calendar; it was a promise — that despite distance, culture, and history, we could build something together. Perhaps that is why Malaysia Day feels reflective. It asks us to pause and look beyond the surface — beyond flags and slogans — and ask what it really means to be Malaysian. It is in the laughter at open houses during festive seasons, in the morning queue at the roti canai stall, in the mix of languages at the pasar malam. It is in the quiet understanding that we share more than we realise. Malaysia Day reminds us that nationhood is not an event we commemorate once a year. It is a work-in-progress, built every time we choose cooperation over conflict, understanding ove...