Merdeka Reflection: What True Independence Means for Malaysian Families in 2025

While Malaysia debates upside-down flags and viral social media posts, there’s a more pressing independence crisis happening quietly in our own homes – one that affects nearly two million Malaysian families.

Every year on August 31st, we wave our flags, sing “Negaraku,” and remember the moment our nation broke free from colonial rule. This week, social media has been ablaze with discussions about upside-down Jalur Gemilang displays and what they mean for our national unity. But this Merdeka, as I’ve been reflecting on what independence truly means, I can’t help but think about a different kind of freedom crisis – one that millions of Malaysian families are struggling with right here, right now, while the cameras aren’t rolling.

Last week, the Goh family faced every Malaysian family’s worst nightmare. Their elderly father passed away after a prolonged illness, and during the funeral, their 78-year-old mother collapsed and was rushed to the hospital with suspected heart attack. As Mrs. Goh sat in the ICU waiting room, still in her funeral clothes, she faced an impossible decision: bring her mother home where she’d be alone while the family returned to work, or consider professional care.

“Denis,” she said, “people will say we’re abandoning Mama right after Papa’s death. But I’m terrified something will happen to her when we’re not there. I can’t lose both parents because I was too proud to ask for help.”

The Goh family isn’t alone. According to the National Health and Morbidity Survey, 5.7% of Malaysian adults – nearly 1.7 million people – are informal caregivers, with women 1.5 times more likely to shoulder this responsibility. What’s more telling is what these statistics don’t capture: the quiet desperation, the financial strain, the relationships stretched thin, and the dreams deferred.

Two months back, Mdm Wong called our facility, her voice hesitant and reluctant. Her two elderly parents are still fairly independent, but she discovered they’re not safe alone when she needs to travel overseas for her daughter’s graduation – a once-in-a-lifetime moment she’s been saving for years to attend. “Denis, I feel like I have to choose between my child’s biggest achievement and my parents’ safety. Why should I have to choose?”

This past Sunday, we received another heart-wrenching enquiry from a daughter working in Kuala Lumpur. Her mother, suffering from COPD, is currently hospitalized and will need long-term oxygen therapy upon discharge in the next few days. “Denis,” she said, “I can’t move back home right now, but I can’t bear the thought of Mama struggling alone with oxygen tanks and medications. What if something happens and I’m four hours away? I feel like I’m failing as a daughter no matter what I choose.”

The Silent Crisis in Malaysian Homes

While we celebrate our national independence, a different kind of dependency crisis is unfolding in homes across Malaysia. Research shows that 47.4% of caregivers in our country experience significant burden, with the most common psychological manifestations being anxiety (29.7%), depression (20.4%), and stress (18.5%).

Think about that for a moment. Nearly half of the people caring for our elderly parents, spouses, and family members are suffering in silence.

A recent study by ISIS Malaysia revealed something staggering: unpaid care work could contribute RM379 billion to Malaysia’s GDP if properly valued. That’s nearly a quarter of our entire national economy, built on the uncounted, unrecognised labour of love happening behind closed doors.

Yet we’ve created a culture where admitting you need help feels like failure. Where suggesting professional care feels like betrayal. Where the phrase “nursing home” is whispered like a shameful secret.

When Tradition Becomes a Trap

I deeply respect our Malaysian values of filial piety and family responsibility – in fact, these values are one of the reasons why I packed my life and promising consulting career in Kuala Lumpur almost 10 years ago to return to Melaka, my hometown, to do what I do now. These values built our nation’s character. But somewhere along the way, we’ve conflated love with suffering. We’ve made martyrdom a measure of devotion.

Research consistently shows that in Malaysia, “it is an abomination to send the elderly to nursing homes,” even when families are overwhelmed and under-equipped to provide the complex medical care their loved ones need.

But here’s what I’ve learned from working with hundreds of Malaysian families: love isn’t measured by how much you sacrifice your own wellbeing. It’s measured by how well you ensure your loved one receives the best possible care, whether that’s from you directly or from trained professionals who can complement your emotional support with medical expertise.

Mrs. Goh’s mother, for instance, needed specialized cardiac monitoring, medication management, and gradual rehabilitation after her heart episode. Mrs. Goh, despite her fierce devotion, couldn’t provide these medical necessities. She could, however, provide something equally invaluable: her daily visits, sharing memories of their father, and ensuring her mother felt surrounded by love during recovery.

The Economics of Care: When Love Isn’t Enough

Let’s talk numbers for a moment, because the financial reality is crushing many families. The Employees’ Provident Fund reports that 58% of Malaysians who are 54 years old have less than RM100,000 saved for retirement – less than half of what’s needed to generate RM1,000 monthly for 20 years.

Meanwhile, most Malaysian families cannot afford private caregivers, whether trained or untrained. This creates a impossible situation: families who can’t afford professional care are forced into providing complex medical care themselves, often with devastating consequences for both the patient and the caregiver.

Women, who bear the brunt of caregiving responsibilities, report higher levels of burden and distress, spending more hours in caregiving tasks while often juggling careers and raising their own children. The result? A generation of women sacrificing their financial independence, career progression, and mental health in the name of tradition.

Redefining Independence: Professional Care as Family Love

This Merdeka, I want to challenge how we think about independence. True independence isn’t just freedom from colonial rule – it’s freedom from impossible choices.

Take Uncle Leong, an 80-year-old businessman who made a decision that shocked his entire extended family. After transferring his businesses and properties to his children and grandchildren, he voluntarily moved into our nursing home a year ago. “Denis,” he explained during one of our conversations, “I didn’t want to burden my children. I want them to have peace of mind when they’re out working, knowing that their father is properly cared for. This way, when they visit me, they come with joy, not worry.”

His children initially resisted, feeling it reflected poorly on their filial piety. But Uncle Leong’s wisdom became clear over time. His son recently told me, “My father taught us one final lesson about leadership – sometimes the most selfless thing you can do is take care of yourself so others can flourish.”

When Malaysia gained independence in 1957, we didn’t reject every aspect of British influence. We kept their language for international communication, their legal framework as foundation for our judiciary, their medical training as the basis for our healthcare system. We took what served us and built something uniquely Malaysian.

The same principle applies to eldercare. Professional nursing care doesn’t replace family love – it amplifies it. When your father receives expert medication management, you can focus on reading him his favourite newspaper. When your mother gets proper wound care from trained nurses, you can spend time reminiscing about her cooking instead of worrying about infection risks.

Last month, I witnessed this principle in action with the Ng sisters. These two unmarried elderly sisters had always taken care of each other, but when the older sister suffered a hip fracture requiring surgery, they faced a dilemma. The younger sister, despite her devotion, couldn’t manage the complex post-operative care requirements.

After a month of rehabilitation with us, the older Ms. Ng returned home successfully. A few days later, the younger sister called me, her voice filled with gratitude: “Denis, your nurses didn’t just help my sister walk again – they pre-packed all her medications according to days and dosage. I wouldn’t have known what to do on Day One when she came home otherwise. Now I can focus on caring for her properly instead of worrying about medical mistakes.”

That’s the difference between care that burdens and care that liberates.

The BIGTREE Difference: Professional Care with Malaysian Heart

At BIGTREE Medicare & Nursing Home, we see this evolution happening daily. We’re Malaysia’s trusted partner in comprehensive eldercare and medical services, where professional healthcare meets family-centered compassion.

The Goh family I mentioned earlier faced one of the most difficult decisions any Malaysian family can encounter. In their moment of grief and crisis, they needed to choose between traditional expectations and practical medical necessity. Like many families, they discovered that professional healthcare didn’t replace their love – it freed them to express it more meaningfully.

When families work with professional healthcare teams, parents receive expert medical monitoring and specialized care, while children and spouses can focus on providing emotional support, sharing memories, and maintaining the precious family bonds that truly matter.

That’s not abandoning Malaysian values – that’s embracing them in a way that actually works.

The Path Forward: Building True Independence

As we approach 2030, when Malaysia will officially become an “aged nation” with 15% of our population over 65, we need to get ahead of this crisis. The changes we need aren’t just policy shifts – they’re cultural evolution. We need to:

Normalize Professional Care: Just as we don’t expect family members to perform surgery or deliver babies, we shouldn’t expect them to manage complex medical conditions without support.

Invest in Quality Facilities: Currently, there are only 19 Ministry of Health-licensed nursing homes serving our entire nation as of August 2025, with estimates of 700-1000 unregistered facilities operating without proper oversight. We need more licensed, professional facilities that meet Ministry of Health standards.

Support Family Caregivers: Those who choose to provide care at home need training, respite services, and financial support to do so safely and sustainably.

Change the Conversation: Professional eldercare isn’t giving up on family – it’s giving families the tools to provide better care, whether at home or in partnership with healthcare professionals.

Here’s something that became clear to me after being involved in this sector: why is it perfectly acceptable for parents to send their children to childcare or after-school tuition to receive proper education and supervision while they work, but it’s perceived as shameful when we seek professional healthcare for our elderly parents when they need specialized medical attention?

We don’t expect kindergarten teachers to be unpaid family members, nor do we shame parents who can’t homeschool their children. We recognize that professional educators, working alongside family love and support, create the best outcomes for children. The same logic should apply to eldercare – professional medical staff, working alongside family emotional support, create the best outcomes for our elderly.

Your Independence Day Resolution

This Merdeka, I challenge every Malaysian family to have an honest conversation about care. Not when crisis strikes, not when someone ends up in hospital, but now, while you can still plan and choose.

Ask yourselves:

• What kind of care would we want for ourselves?
• How can we ensure our elderly receive medical expertise while preserving family bonds?
• What would true independence look like for our family’s caregivers?

If you’re currently caring for an elderly family member, please know: seeking help isn’t failure, it’s wisdom. Professional support doesn’t mean you love less – it means you love smart.

A New Vision of Malaysian Independence

Sixty-eight years ago, our nation chose independence over dependence. Today, let’s choose the same for our families. Let’s build a Malaysia where professional healthcare supports family love instead of competing with it. Where our elderly receive expert medical care while maintaining their dignity and family connections. Where our daughters and daughters-in-law aren’t forced to choose between their careers and their hearts.

This vision isn’t about abandoning our values – it’s about evolving them. It’s about creating space for both professional excellence and Malaysian warmth to flourish together.

Merdeka doesn’t just mean freedom from external control – it means freedom to make choices that serve love instead of just tradition.

As we celebrate our nation’s independence this year, let’s also celebrate the independence that comes from having real options, professional support, and the wisdom to know that love and expertise can work hand in hand.

Ready to explore what true independence could look like for your family? BIGTREE Medicare & Nursing Home offers personalized consultations to help Malaysian families navigate eldercare decisions with both professional expertise and cultural sensitivity. Our Ministry of Health-licensed facility provides 24/7 skilled nursing care, rehabilitation services, and family support programs designed specifically for Malaysian families.

Schedule a no-obligation consultation today to discuss how we can support your family’s journey while honoring your values and ensuring the best possible care for your loved ones.

Contact BIGTREE Medicare & Nursing Home:
📞 +6012 685 5103
🌐 www.bigtree.care
📧 info@bigtree.care
📍 1, Jalan Pinggiran Kota Laksamana, 75200 Melaka

This Merdeka, give your family the gift of real choices. Because independence isn’t just about our nation – it’s about the freedom to care for our loved ones and it starts from our own home.