Singapore-born Writer Raidah Shah Idil shares her experiences growing up in both Singapore and Sydney and how the call of Allah and His Adhan eventually led her to migrating to Malaysia.
As someone whose ancestral home is Malaysia, I have had the blessing of living here for a decade. There’s something very special and healing about returning here because I felt very fragmented and disconnected from my cultural and spiritual heritage after living in the West for most of my life. I was born and raised in two secular cities (Singapore and Sydney) and am so grateful to be living in Malaysia; a thriving Muslim-majority country.
I’m sharing my experiences as a doorway for others who are curious about the benefits of moving to a Muslim country. After decades of living under siege in the West, and in the shadow of Islamophobia, it is such a relief to live safely in an unapologetically Muslim country.
Life in Sydney
I was born in Singapore, then moved to Sydney, Australia with my family when I was twelve years old. By the time I was in my late twenties, it was very much my home – despite all the stress that came with growing up as a visibly Muslim Malay woman. I experienced an entire range of Islamophobia and anti-Asian sentiment: from microaggressions at university like being told that I speak such good English, to getting yelled at Central Station for wearing my hijab. I lived in fear of the next terrorist attack and prayed it wouldn’t be perpetrated by a Muslim, because of the inevitable fallout on hijabis like me, my mother, and other women like us.
Living under siege felt like my normal mode of existence.
Reading about the genocide of Muslims in different parts of the world was also my norm.
I was still afraid, from time to time, but alhamdulilah, I remained committed to my hijab despite my fluctuating anxiety. I knew that even if I removed it out of fear of being attacked, I would never pass as white, and I would always be Asian.
I refused to be frightened to the point of erasing my Muslim identity. Since childhood, I had a temper I was learning to control, so I channelled it into choosing to be proudly hijabi in a secular society that looked down on Muslims.
I understand why Muslim women in the West want to be anonymous and did not shame or blame any Muslim woman for choosing that path instead, particularly when their mental health was at stake.
Moving to Malaysia
I first moved to Malaysia with my husband in late 2013/early 2014. We left our newlywed bubble so that we could keep my aging and widowed mother-in-law company. At first, I really missed the familiarity of my Sydney home and the proximity of my close family and friends.
The tropical heat felt unbearably hot and sticky. Even the mosquitos seemed to enjoy feasting on me as if they knew there was something unmistakably foreign in my blood. I felt self-conscious when I spoke in Malay and felt much more comfortable speaking in my heavily Australian-accented English. The end result was not great – some people thought I was putting on airs, while others just couldn’t understand what I was saying!
Over time though, I leaned in. I felt safe enough to take up space here. I became more confident and relaxed when I spoke Malay. I realized that for all my years in Sydney, I was living in a very exhausting, defensive mode of existence. It took time for me to unlearn those fears, and to realize what it is like to not live under a sense of existential threat.
In Malaysia, I no longer have to fight to be Muslim. I can just be. Here, I can relax and focus on giving myself, my husband, and my children a strong spiritual grounding. I love how utterly normal being a professional working woman in hijab or even in niqab. I will never tire of hearing the adhan. I am so grateful for the easy access to delicious, affordable and halal food of every possible variety!
Just witnessing fellow men, women, and children, many in hijab and modest clothing, warms my heart. I no longer stand out for being Muslim. Here, I can finally blend in, with my entire being. Here, I have no difficulty sourcing ethical Muslimah clothes and comfortable cotton hijabs to cope with the heat. I cherish the emphasis on family values here, even amongst non-Muslims.
My mother-in-law, husband, children, and I enjoy regular Malaysian resort getaways, and I love how the qiblah direction is so clearly indicated on the ceiling of our beautiful hotel rooms. The norm here is for modest swimwear, which is a relief when my children are splashing away in the hotel pools and water parks.
Alhamdulilah, in Malaysia, I can rest in the security that my husband, children and I are safe to be visibly Muslim, and we can enjoy the many perks of living in a society designed with us in mind.
I am so happy that for my school-aged children, the norm is for Muslim children at school to start fasting from Year Two, even if it’s for just half the day. My daughter is in Year Three, and her friends and she bravely tried to fast for the entire day, mashaAllah. This is utterly unthinkable in Sydney, where even in Muslim schools, it’s far more common for children to be much older before attempting half-day fasts, let alone full-day fasts.
My daughter and her friends are gaining such a solid, confident grasp of their Muslim identity. My daughter’s non-Muslim friends pack halal food so they can share each other’s food during recess. It’s so incredibly beautiful to see this societal cohesion and celebration of being Muslim.
Ramadan is such an exciting time here. In addition, Ramadan bazaars are filled with all manner of delicious foods, and even non-Muslims queue up. Even Muslims who might not be as devout are rejuvenated by the arrival of Ramadan, and make the extra effort to participate to attend prayers at the masjid for tarawih, and so on.
The biggest difference I can explain, in a nutshell, is how Islam is designed into the daily fabric of Malaysian life. Here, it is not only normal to be Muslim, it is beneficial.
Even amongst non-Muslim friends and neighbours, there is an understanding and awareness of Islam. “Selamat Hari Raya!” and “Selamat Hari Raya Haji!” are common greetings during Eid from Muslims and non-Muslims alike. We get public holidays for Eid too, which is absolutely wonderful.
I vividly recall being invited to my daughter’s friend’s home for Raya open house. When I arrived, I saw not just Muslim families, but also non-Muslim families there too. We all enjoyed the tasty food and each other’s company. At the end of the gathering, all the children gave salaams to the adults and received a packet of money in return for their good manners – including non-Muslim Chinese and Indian children. I had never seen this before, and I loved Malaysia even more, for associating such happiness on Eid with both Muslim and non-Muslim children.
I hope and pray that these seeds of friendship will flower into adult decisions to embrace Islam one day because there is already a baseline of understanding and a societal advantage to being Muslim here. There are clear signs for non-halal restaurants and non-halal sections in supermarkets, which I appreciate!
I still recall life in the West, where nothing would stop for Eid and life went on as usual. We had to carve out Eid for ourselves unless it fell on a weekend. There is no shortage of places to pray here as well as wudu facilities, which is a contrast to what I experienced growing up in Sydney.
Malaysia is also proudly pro-Palestine through every level of society, from the humble GrabFood driver who displays the Palestinian flag on his motorbike, to the celebrities and VIPs who post about Palestine on their Instagram accounts. Alhamdulilah, no employee is at risk of losing their job here for wanting the genocide in Palestine to stop.
Imperfection
Does it mean that it’s perfect here? No, of course not. This is the dunya, after all, and everlasting happiness awaits us only in Jannah. Despite the deep love for Palestinians shared by Malaysians, the sad reality is that Palestinian refugees – and other refugees from different parts of the world – struggle to live in Malaysia. According to this article, “Malaysia has not ratified the Refugee Convention and lacks any legal framework or procedure for determining refugee status and providing recognition and protection to asylum seekers.”
On a personal note, I’m learning, firsthand, the benefit of growing up with extended family, in a communal family home. It’s just much harder to adjust to this, as a grown woman in my thirties and forties, compared to my children, who grow up with this as their norm. Ideas of individualism definitely rubbed off on me, and I’m still actively unlearning that and leaning more into Malaysian collectivism.
At the same time, I’ve realized it’s so important to still hold onto healthy boundaries. Not every aunty asking about my personal life has my best interests at heart, for example. Balance, as always, is key. For someone like me who is naturally introverted and values privacy, guests turning up unannounced at my extended family home used to stress me out, but now I’ve learned to welcome the barakah of visitors.
The way Islam is formally taught can often be harsh, which often drives Muslim youth away from the deen. Islam is often more a cultural preference than an evidence-based belief, which can lead to complacency in this Muslim-majority country. This means that when Muslim Malaysian youth travel abroad and are culturally Muslim, they may be at risk of straying, unless their deen is fully grounded.
On a minor note, every now and then, we get water and electricity cuts. I used to be so stressed out when that happened but alhamdulilah, I’m used to them now – and so much more grateful for flowing water and uninterrupted electricity!
Missing Family Abroad
Despite my comfort in my ancestral home, I miss my loved ones in Australia. When I do visit, it is both familiar and uncomfortable. There are no in-built bidets in the public bathrooms, for example, so it’s back to using small and discreet toilet bottles. It’s back to getting stared at because I’m both Malay and in hijab.
It is also such a relief to be back in cool weather so I can enjoy going on long bush walks with my loved ones. My children absolutely adore the well-maintained and enormous playgrounds in Sydney. I love meeting up with my family again, and my old friends from my high school and university days. Best of all, I am always so, so happy to be back in my mother’s home, and enjoying her delicious homemade food.
But by the end of our Sydney whirlwind visit, I always end up missing the adhan and the comfort of living in a Muslim-majority country. It’s a relief to come home to Malaysia, despite leaving my loved ones in Sydney. It’s always so tough saying goodbye so that fuels my du’a for all of us to be reunited in Jannah for eternity, inshaAllah.
If you’re living in the West and thinking of moving to Malaysia, I hope and pray that Allah facilitates this for you – if it is khayr for you in this life and the next.
My advice is to do a lot of research and only move here when you have a solid job offer in hand, especially if you come here with your spouse and children. A tourist visa lasts for only three months, and it’s stressful to relocate everyone, and there’s no guarantee you will get a visa extension right away.
Investing in Malaysia as Your Second Home is another option. When you migrate here, I recommend connecting with other expatriates to learn how to successfully navigate the culture shock – and the heat and humidity! Despite the many perks of living in Malaysia, it is not perfect here. There are cultural practices and norms that could stress you out, especially when it comes to bureaucracy.
My policy is to practice gratitude, acceptance, and just go with the flow.
Notes from the Editor: This featured has been edited from its original publication here.
