Syerleena Abdul Rashid

𝗧𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗹, 𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗮𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝗮𝗿! 🇲🇾

Saya singgah di Tabika Perpaduan Padang Tembak untuk menyapa anak-anak kecil Malaysia sambil mengagihkan Jalur Gemilang. Bendera terus dikibarkan dengan penuh semangat—ada yang ke atas, ada yang ke tepi, dan ada juga ke semua arah! 😄

Di sebalik wajah-wajah ceria ini, pendidikan awal kanak-kanak merupakan asas penting dalam pembinaan negara. Di sinilah mereka mula belajar berkongsi, berkawan dan membesar bersama tanpa mengira latar belakang.

Bagi keluarga di Padang Tembak dan kawasan sekitarnya, tabika ini bukan sekadar tempat belajar. Ia menjadi ruang yang dipercayai untuk anak-anak mereka belajar, bermain dan membesar dalam persekitaran yang selamat.

Masa depan Malaysia sedang dibentuk di dalam kelas-kelas seperti ini—satu minda kecil yang penuh rasa ingin tahu pada satu masa. 🇲🇾❤️

Puan Annuratha’s daughter is close to completing her diploma. What she wants next is simple: the chance to continue studying.

Her situation was brought to my attention by Sdr Rayer, and we went to see the family soon after.

Puan Annuratha is a single mother from Padang Tembak, supporting her household on RM2,100 a month while still bearing the cost of her daughter’s education. Sitting with them, I could see that despite the financial pressure, neither mother nor daughter was ready to give up.

Puan Annuratha wants what every parent wants—to see her child go further than she did. Her daughter has already come this far, and she is determined to continue her studies after completing her diploma.

We will assist with the family’s immediate needs and look into the support available for her daughter’s education.

She has the determination. Now we must do what we can to ensure that money is not the reason her journey ends here.

One house, one flag—and plenty of friendly conversations along the way. 🇲🇾

I joined Uncle Eng and his Komuniti MADANI Padang Tembak team, together with Jabatan Penerangan, to walk from door to door distributing Jalur Gemilang and a few goodies to residents.

Some welcomed us from their gates, some came down from their flats, and a few immediately asked, “YB, macam mana nak gantung betul?” So we showed them—not terbalik, not touching the ground and always treated with respect.

It was hot and tiring, but seeing the Jalur Gemilang slowly appearing outside more homes made every step worthwhile.

This is the Malaysia I love: neighbours chatting, people helping one another and all of us proudly flying the same flag. 🇲🇾

Sometimes, looking after our community starts with something as simple as showing up.

Together with MPKK Hong Seng Chairman, Khor Khan Khai, I dropped by to visit Rogoni A/P Doriasamy, check on how she was doing and hopefully bring a little joy into her day. ❤️

Rogoni had been facing problems with her roof, and we did our best to get the necessary repairs done so that she could feel a little safer and more comfortable at home.

But this visit wasn't just about the roof.

It was about sitting down, having a conversation, sharing a few laughs and reminding her that she has people around her who care.

We may not be able to fix every problem overnight, but we can always try our best to make things a little better, one home and one family at a time.

𝗧𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝟴𝟭.

I thought I knew what I wanted to write, but the truth is, this birthday is harder than I expected.

I keep wishing I could turn back time.

Back to when Mom was younger and fiercely independent. Back to when I would follow her to university and sometimes sit in on her lectures. Back to when she would come to my school plays and events, and I could look into the audience and know Mom was there.

Back to when birthdays meant a card from her and a phone call, no matter where I was or what time it was.

Mom never forgot.

And perhaps that is what makes today so difficult.

Dementia has changed so much. There are memories she can no longer reach, things she can no longer do and parts of the woman I have known my whole life that sometimes feel further away.

Yet when I look at her, I still see all of her.

I see the young girl she once was, with an entire life ahead of her.

I see the determined woman who pursued her education and built a career for herself.

I see the incredibly friendly woman who could talk to almost anyone and treated people with kindness.

I see the stubborn woman who loved her cars and convertibles and, despite already having more than enough of them, still insisted she needed a Mercedes sports car.

And most of all, I see my mom.

She wasn’t perfect. We disagreed. We annoyed each other. There were times I could have been more patient, more present, more understanding. If I could turn back the clock, there are ordinary days I would give anything to have again.

One more phone call.

One more birthday card.

One more day of following Mom around while she went about her life, not knowing that these completely ordinary moments would one day mean everything to me.

But time doesn’t work that way.

So I am learning to stop wishing only for the Mom I remember and to love the Mom who is still here in front of me.

For most of my life, she took care of me.

She remembered my birthday.
She showed up.
She worried about me.
She supported me.
She called.

Now, it is my turn.

My turn to remember the stories she may have forgotten.

My turn to hold her hand when the world doesn’t quite make sense.

My turn to be patient.

My turn to show up.

My turn to take care of my mom.

Today, I don’t want to mourn what dementia has taken from her. I want to celebrate everything that 81 years have given me.

The girl she was.
The woman she became.
The mother who raised me.
And the woman whose strength, stubbornness, kindness and love helped shape the woman I am today.

Happy 81st birthday, Mom.

If I could have anything, I would ask for a little more time with the Mom I remember — another phone call, another conversation, another ordinary day that I didn’t know I would miss this much.

But I still have you, Mom. And however different life may be now, I don’t want to spend the time I have left wishing for yesterday.

So I’ll sit with you. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll tell you our stories, even when you no longer remember them. And I’ll remind you how deeply you are loved.

You spent my whole life remembering me.

Now it’s my turn to carry the memories, Mom. And I promise, I won’t forget. ❤️