Untuk article bulan 1 - APAKAH MAKSUD SEBENAR PRESTASI
Klik disini - https://www.sinarharian.com.my/article/766106/khas/pendapat/apakah-maksud-sebenar-prestasi
I originate from
Penang and grew up among the Hokkiens. I even have a Hokkien name, Ah Hooi. So
I know a little about the Hokkiens and what they consider important.
Many may be
surprised that to Hokkiens, Hokkien New Year, Pai Ti Kong or Bai Tian Gong, is
equally or perhaps even more important than the first day of Chinese New Year.
Let me explain.
In Fettes Park where
I grew up, I would see my Hokkien friends and their families set up large
offering tables covered with red cloth outside their homes on the 8th night of
Chinese New Year, just before midnight. On the tables were pineapples, Ang Ku
Kueh, roast pork and other offerings. There were always stalks of sugarcane
nearby.
There was a distinct
sense of anticipation in the air. Like we Muslims waiting for the announcement
of the moon sighting to begin fasting or to celebrate Hari Raya. Like
Christians gathering just before midnight to welcome the birth of Jesus during
Midnight Mass. The moment midnight arrives, the celebration begins. Bells ring.
Hymns are sung.
Just like Muslims
and Christians, this is observed with care and piety. I remember how patiently
and meticulously they waited for midnight. The elders, especially, carried a
deep seriousness and reverent focus. Then, on the dot, fireworks would light up
the sky.
To understand why,
we must understand the history.
Bai Tian Gong means
“Praying to the Heavenly God.” It falls on the ninth day of Chinese New Year
and honours the Jade Emperor in Taoist belief.
According to
tradition, during a period of persecution in ancient China, the Hokkiens
narrowly escaped harm. They believed they were protected by the Heavenly God,
and that their safety became clear on the ninth day of the Lunar New Year.
Since then, the day has been observed as a solemn thanksgiving for divine
protection and survival.
That is why midnight
matters. It marks the exact beginning of that sacred day.
So when fireworks
fill the sky after midnight, it is not merely celebration. It is remembrance.
It is gratitude. It is faith expressed publicly. It is religion in action. We
may limit it to only from midnight to 1 am, but allow it we must.
Muslims and
Christians do not have to agree with the belief. But we must practise empathy.
If we understand
this history and place ourselves in their shoes, we may see those few moments
after midnight differently.
Peace,
Anas
Yang Amat Berhormat Datuk Amar Haji Fadillah Haji Yusof ,
Deputy Prime Minister of Malaysia,
Professor Barry Winn, Vice Chancellor of Taylor’s University,
Distinguished guests,
Friends, family,
Members of the media,
Ladies and gentlemen,
Salam Sejahtera and thank you for being here this afternoon.
Let me begin very clearly.
This book was not written to preach.
It was not written to convert.
And it was certainly not written to argue or debate.
The Quran and I was written to
share.
To share how one ordinary Muslim, who grew up poor in multicultural
Malaysia, learned to live with the Quran anchoring his life.
Through family.
Through friendship.
Through work.
Through mistakes.
Through reflection.
This book is not about Islam as a theory.
It is about Islam as a lived experience.
Over the last two decades, something
important has been unfolding across the world.
For a long time, especially after
9/11, Islam was encountered largely through fear, suspicion, and headlines. It
became something spoken about, but rarely spoken with. Debated, but seldom
understood.
Since October 7th, 2023, emotions have
intensified again. In parts of America and Europe, Islamophobia has grown
louder. Mosques are watched. Muslim names are questioned. Faith is reduced to
politics.
And yet, at the very same time,
something else is happening.
A quieter, more thoughtful curiosity
is emerging.
Across the United States, Europe,
Latin America, Africa, the Far East, and beyond, people are asking deeper
questions.
Who are these Muslims beyond the
headlines?
What is it they believe that gives
them resilience?
What kind of faith produces dignity
instead of rage, patience instead of bitterness, even in moments of suffering?
This curiosity is not driven by
campaigns.
It is driven by human encounters.
A recent experience of a fifth-grade
teacher in the United States explains it well.
A small group of her Muslim students
realised it was time for their prayer.
Their usual prayer space was
unavailable, so they respectfully asked if they could pray in her classroom.
She agreed.
What moved her was this.
Without any adult directing them, the
children confidently organised themselves. They stood shoulder to shoulder. One
stepped forward as the leader. They bowed. They prostrated. In sync. Calm.
Orderly. Proper.
They just knew what to do.
Ten-year-old children, disciplined not
by fear, but by faith. Connected to their Maker.
The teacher sat at her desk and
watched. Inspired. Touched. Respectful.
When they finished, she told them how
proud she was of them.
And she began to cry.
The children hugged her.
And for a brief moment, the world felt
different.
In that small classroom, there was no
politics. No headlines. No ideology.
Just sincerity. Reverence. And human
connection.
That is what changes perceptions
This book is relaunched for such
moments.
Not as a defense.
Not as a reaction.
But as a human explanation of how
Islam is lived from the inside.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am not a religious scholar. I am a businessman.
In many ways, I am self-taught in my understanding of the Quran. Through
books, translations, tafsir, lughat al-Quran, through teachers living and
departed, and through the conviction that if we read and listen sincerely, God
speaks.
I grew up surrounded by difference.
Muslims.
Christians.
Buddhists.
Hindus.
Taoists.
Sikh communities.
That difference did not weaken my faith.
It strengthened it.
The Quran drives me to see not just with my eyes, but with my heart. That
substance is more important than form. Look deeper, and you will find shared
values that bind differences together.
The Quran taught me that work is honorable if it is halal, whether you
are CEO or janitor.
It taught me that keeping your word matters.
That hope is not naïve. It is energy.
That no matter your past, God’s mercy is always greater.
This faith does not promise an easy life,
but it does promise a meaningful and purposeful one.
This book is also a message from Malaysia to the world.
We are not perfect. We have our disagreements. At times, we have
overzealous voices who fail to see the larger picture.
Yes, we are human.
But we have something rare to offer.
Malaysia is a Muslim-majority nation with Islam as the religion of the
Federation. Yet we also have thousands of churches, Hindu temples, Buddhist
temples, Chinese temples, and gurdwaras, combined.
You can walk down one street and hear the azan, temple bells, church
hymns, and festival drums within minutes of one another.
In corporate offices owned by non-Muslims, you will often find a surau. A
small prayer room for Muslims. A small space. But big in meaning.
We make room for one another.
We share food.
We open our homes.
We celebrate each other’s festivals.
Not because we are the same.
But because we have learned to live with difference.
We give.
We take.
We respect.
We say thank you.
The Quran captures this beautifully:
“To each of you We have ordained a law and a clear way. If Allah had
willed, He would have made you one community, but He tests you in what He has
given you. So compete with one another in good.” 5:48
In many ways, our nation is a living chromosome, a model of how faiths
can coexist, each preserving its own colours, yet woven together in the same
tapestry of peace.
If you are a Muslim, whether in Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, Islamabad, or
Riyadh, I hope this book reminds you that the Quran is not only for rituals,
but for all times.
Faith should make us better neighbours.
Better colleagues.
Better citizens.
If you are not a Muslim, especially from America or Europe, this book is
not an explanation of Islam in its entirety.
It is an invitation.
A glimpse into one life. One experience.
One imperfect attempt to walk with God.
A gentle door to know Islam.
You do not need to agree with everything.
You only need to be open.
My sincere hope is this.
That this book will travel beyond Malaysia.
That it will sit not only on religious shelves, but in living rooms, book
clubs, and classrooms.
If this book leaves you with anything, I hope it is this:
A soft but sincere voice.
A genuine sharing.
And above all, HOPE.
Before I conclude, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to Yang
Amat Berhormat Dato’ Fadillah for graciously gracing this launch with his
presence.
My sincere thanks to Professor Barry and the team at Taylor’s University,
and equally to my own team at Zubedy. Both teams have worked with dedication to
make this afternoon possible.
Special mention to Prof Anindita, Dr Loh, Dr Murugan, Ms Kirtana and Aby,
the team lead at zubedy.
“To Allah belong the East and the
West. Wherever you turn, there is the Face of Allah.”
Quran 2:115
Thank you.
Peace.
Short naps.
Allowing myself sweetened drinks without concern.
Asking fellow Muslims, “How’s lunch?” and enjoying their reaction.
That quiet waiting before berbuka.
Reading at odd hours of the night.
How about you?
@aizat my GM says during Ramadan even vegetables start looking delicious :)
Do share.
Even if you are not fasting.
Even if you are a non-Muslim.
Peace,
Anas
DEAR
CAPTAINS of Industry and Public Institutions,
In
recent years, few workplace ideas have been discussed as frequently and as
loosely as work–life balance. It is often raised with good intentions, defended
passionately, and yet applied inconsistently. As leaders, we must pause and ask
a harder question. Have we truly understood what work–life balance was meant to
achieve, or have we allowed a shallow interpretation to quietly shape
behaviour, expectations, and performance in our organisations?
In
this article, I would like to suggest that it is time we reframe our thinking.
We need to move from Work–Life Balance (WLB) to Work–Life Integration (WLI),
and then push further toward a higher aspiration, Work–Life Mastery (WLM).
These
terms are not semantic exercises. They form mental models. Mental models are
the internal explanations or maps we use to understand how the world works.
They influence how we think, interpret situations, make decisions, and solve
problems. When mental models are flawed, behaviour becomes distorted. When they
are clear and mature, performance improves, both for individuals and for our
businesses.
Today,
work–life balance is often misunderstood and interpreted naively. In many
cases, it pits work and life against each other, as though they are natural
enemies competing for time and attention. That was never the original
intention.
Properly
understood, work–life balance refers to the ability to meet work
responsibilities while still having sufficient time, energy, and mental space
for personal life, including family, health, rest, learning, and community. It
is not about working less. It is about working in a way that does not crowd out
everything else that allows a human being to function well and meaningfully. It
was never meant to be a stopwatch. It was about sustainability, dignity, and
long-term human well-being that includes productive work.
The
idea itself is relatively modern. Its roots trace back to the Industrial
Revolution, when factory labour imposed long hours under unhealthy and unsafe
conditions. Workers pushed back with calls for limits such as “eight hours
work, eight hours rest, and eight hours leisure.” In the late twentieth
century, the rise of white-collar work, dual-income households, and digital
technology blurred the boundaries between work and personal life. Work–life
balance then became both an individual and organisational concern. The
intention was clear. Avoid short-term output that sacrifices long-term human
and institutional well-being.
What
work–life balance was never meant to be is equally important. It was never
anti-work. It was never meant to imply equal hours of work and leisure every
day. It was never a justification for laziness, lack of ambition, or a rigid
formula that applies to everyone. It was never anti-performance or
anti-excellence. It does not treat work as a burden from which life must be
protected, nor does it suggest that time spent working is time stolen from
living.
Yet
today, we increasingly encounter a distorted mental model. We hear statements
such as, “I work strictly from 8:30 to 5:30. Everything outside that is mine.
Do not call me during my private time.” At the same time, there is little
hesitation in attending to personal matters during company hours, messaging
friends and family, scrolling social media, running errands, or mentally
checking out. When balance is invoked selectively, it is not balance. It is
asymmetry. True balance assumes mutual respect for time in both directions.
This
is why many thinkers and practitioners have moved toward the idea of Work–Life
Integration, sometimes described as Work–Life Harmony. The core idea is simple
but demanding. Human beings are not meant to divide themselves into
compartments. We are meant to live integrated lives where work, ethics, effort,
rest, and meaning form one whole.
With
this mental model, we do not ask for balance before contribution. We do not
protect time at the expense of results. At the same time, we do not allow
organisations to destroy people in the name of performance. Integration
restores adulthood to the workplace. Values do not switch off after office
hours, and responsibility does not disappear because the clock has moved.
However,
as Captains of Industry, Work–Life Integration should be the minimum standard
we expect from our people, not the end goal. Our ambitions must be deeper and
further. If we are serious about building top-performing talent pools and
credible successors, we must promote a higher aspiration. That aspiration is
Work–Life Mastery.
Top
performers, whether in general management or as high-level individual
contributors, live in a different operating reality from the average employee. Top
management, specialists, master engineers, surgeons, researchers, and
deal-makers understand something fundamental. Success requires longer learning
curves, higher stress tolerance, greater emotional regulation, and sustained
periods of intense effort.
They
accept that decisions follow them home. Problems do not clock out.
Responsibility often spills into weekends, sleep, and reflection. They do not
see this as exploitation. It is a price they are willing to pay for
significance. This is not because they lack boundaries, but because they
understand what mastery demands.
For
them, the goal is not a stress-free life. The goal is a meaningful life that
can carry stress without breaking. They do not attempt to avoid stress. They
learn to work with it. They develop the ability to focus deeply, sit with
complexity, think without immediate reward, and wrestle with ambiguity. These
capacities require solitude, tolerance for boredom, and strong mental and
emotional discipline - skills many never consciously train.
With
this mastery, they read when others rest, practise when others scroll, and
reflect when others switch off. They work deeper and longer on what truly
matters and spend far less time on trivialities. Effort is not scattered. It is
directed.
Paradoxically,
the best performers do not define themselves only by their work. They anchor
their identity beyond their job. Family, values, faith or philosophy, service,
and physical, emotional, and mental health provide grounding. These anchors
give them peace of mind under pressure. Without them, intensity becomes
burnout. With them, intensity becomes meaningful effort that supports
meaningful living.
Many
of these individuals would describe their lives simply and confidently. “I work
harder than most, but I also recover better than most. I carry stress, but I am
not owned by it. I integrate work, life, learning, and meaning into one
coherent life. I do not seek work–life balance. I strive for work–life
mastery.”
Dear
Captains, this reframing matters. The mental models we promote shape the
behaviours we tolerate and the talent we produce. Moving from balance to
integration and finally to mastery is not about demanding more from people
without care. It is about restoring maturity, responsibility, and purpose to
our organisations and our people. This is leadership work. And it begins with
how we set the correct mental model.
Peace,
anas
zubedy
zubedy
(m) sdn bhd
DEAR
CAPTAINS of Industry and Public Institutions
TITLE
- Why We Must Agree on What Is and Is Not Performance
The
key to both business and individual success lies in one fundamental principle –
a clear and shared understanding of what is and is not performance. Without
this clarity, confusion seeps into every corner of an organization. Goals
become blurred, expectations diverge, and even the most well-intentioned
leaders and teams end up speaking different languages.
Clarity
of goals and deliverables depends on both superiors and subordinates being
aligned – understanding not just what needs to be achieved, but how success
will be defined and measured. Only then can we answer essential leadership
questions. How do we deal with and get the best from top performers? How do we
help and coach average performers to step up to their full potential? How do we
manage and supervise low performers to reach expected standards? Yet across
many Malaysian workplaces, we suffer from a serious distortion of what
performance truly means.
Too
many Malaysians have a twisted idea of performance. The majority who deliver at
a mediocre level perceive themselves as excellent performers. Many rate
themselves as “A” or “5-star” simply because they clock in at nine and leave at
five, complete assigned tasks, and avoid mistakes. Many still carry the school
mentality where scoring 100% equals A performance. In the business and working
world, that is not excellence – that is performing as expected. In reality,
most of these individuals would, at best, rate a C minus. How many of us can
fully concentrate and perform at 100% every single day?
Worse
still, we have become a nation that lies to each other about performance.
Superiors evade managing tension and shy away from unpleasant conversations.
Many avoid communicating weaknesses and bad habits clearly because they want to
be seen as “nice bosses.” Every year, bonuses are distributed almost across the
board, making nearly everyone believe they’ve gone the extra mile. To appear
kind, we distort reality. The result is a workforce that no longer knows how to
self-assess – where self-perception and reality stand as far apart as Kangar is
from Kota Kinabalu.
While
standard HR documents outline performance in polished business language, they
often fail to get through to people. We need simpler, clearer, and more honest
yardsticks that everyone can understand.
An
excellent (A/5) performer delivers work at an extraordinary level, standing far
above their peers. The next person is nowhere near their standard. You are the
Steve Jobs, Nicol David, P. Ramlee, or Lionel Messi of your field –
exceptional, consistent, and driven. You complete tasks well before deadlines
and with superior quality. In a marathon, you are among the few who break away
early and finish far ahead of thousands. You are trusted with turnkey projects,
frequently headhunted, and often tasked with responsibilities beyond your job
scope because you make excellence look effortless.
An
above-average (B/4) performer consistently delivers more than 100%, though not
yet at an extraordinary level. You can teach, guide, and coach others because
your quality of work is reliably higher than that of most peers. Your superior
rarely needs to monitor your progress and trusts you even in their absence. You
complete tasks ahead of deadlines and add value to outcomes. Others see you as
a good example to emulate, and you naturally become a source of knowledge
within the organization.
An
average (C/3) performer delivers work at 100%, fulfils their role
independently, and consistently meets all job expectations. Your superior does
not need to chase or monitor you because you can be trusted to deliver on time
and at the required quality. The moment your superior has to chase you or show
you how to do it, you are no longer a C performer - at best, you are a C minus.
A true C performer is an organization’s asset: reliable, consistent, and
trustworthy. You get things done and make things happen.
A
below-average (D/2) performer delivers at or below 99% and requires coaching
and supervision to meet basic standards. You occasionally miss deadlines or
fall short of expectations, forcing your superior to monitor and follow up. D
performers may show moments of brilliance, but their defining problem is
inconsistency and weak discipline. Good intentions alone are not enough when
consistent action is missing.
A
poor (E/1) performer operates far below expectations, consistently failing to
deliver results despite guidance and supervision. They require constant
monitoring, show weak discipline, resist feedback, and exhibit habits such as
lateness, excuse-making, and blame-shifting. Attitude issues further damage
team morale and performance. In short, E performers lack the drive, discipline,
and commitment to meet even basic standards. They should shape up or be shifted
out.
If
we want to build world-class organizations – whether in government, business,
or education - we must first align our understanding of performance. Leaders
must have the courage to speak truthfully and the wisdom to balance empathy
with accountability. A capable leader manages tension, provides honest
feedback, holds people accountable, and is willing to have tough conversations
- and, when necessary, take tough actions.
Clarity
in defining, measuring, and communicating performance is not a technical
exercise; it is a moral duty. It ensures fairness, drives growth, and restores
integrity to our workplaces. When everyone - from top management to new hires -
understands what performance truly means, excellence becomes not an exception
but a culture.
Let
us, as Captains of Industry and Public Institutions, lead this movement toward
clarity. Let us make performance real again - for our teams, our organizations,
and our nation. We must remember Peter Drucker’s wise words: “What gets
measured, gets improved.”
Anas
Zubedy
