4/09/2025

THURSDAY | SEPT 4, 2025

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On mission to transform lives of underprivileged

Rapid life expectancy

improvement after Merdeka

KUALA LUMPUR: When Malaysia gained independence in 1957, a newborn boy could expect to live about 55.8 years, while a newborn girl about 58.2 years. This was the mortality rate of that time. By 2024, those figures had risen significantly: a newborn boy could expect to live about 70 years, and a newborn girl 77.8 years, according to data from the Statistics Department. The gap between male and female life expectancy has remained consistent, with women living several years longer on average. (Life expectancy at birth is the average number of years a newborn is expected to live if today’s death rates at each age stay the same.) The sharp improvement seen in the first few decades after independence was not only rapid but also historically significant. A 1984 paper in the Journal of Public Health Policy noted that from 1957 to 1976, overall life expectancy in Malaysia increased from 57 to 69 years. Malaysia achieved this progress in just 20 years compared with the United States, which took 27 years (from 1915 to 1941) to reach a similar improvement. Better healthcare services, vaccination programmes, improved nutrition and public health measures all contributed to the longer lifespans Malaysians continue to benefit from today. However, this extra longevity has not always translated into healthier lives. A 2024 study found that while Malaysians are living almost 20 years beyond 60, the proportion of those years spent in good health has barely shifted. Non-communicable diseases account for 72% of premature deaths, reflecting new challenges that come with ageing. Yet Malaysia’s health journey since Merdeka also shows what is possible when the nation comes together. In just one generation, it transformed life expectancy from barely above 55 years to well into the 70s – a leap that once seemed out of reach. As the country moves beyond its 68th National Day, the next milestone is clear – to add not only years to life, but life to years. Just as independence opened the door to progress, today’s Malaysia has the chance to define its future by ensuring that its people can age with vitality, dignity and hope. – Bernama For Abbe, unity is as central as compassion. “I’ve helped everyone. I once helped an Indian man in need. I also recalled visiting a Chinese family’s flat. They had teenage children, but not even a bag of rice to cook. “They were shocked I even came. But that’s what we’re meant to do. Merdeka means we’re all equal. We share this land, this life.” – By IKHWAN ZULKAFLEE

o Former banker dedicates life to helping homeless by providing food and ensuring individuals ‘survive and thrive’

Ű BY IKHWAN ZULKAFLEE newsdesk@thesundaily.com

KUALA LUMPUR: Amid the bustle of the capital, where traffic snarls meet towering high-rises, one man has quietly dedicated his life to transforming the lives of the homeless, one meal and one act of compassion at a time. He is Azhan Adnan, 57, better known as “Ayah Jalanan” (Father of the Streets), a former investment banker who walked away from corporate life to serve those living on the margins. Fondly called Abbe, he built a career in finance before venturing into logging, aviation and mining. After retiring in 2016, he said he had “enough for his own life” but realised his work was not done. What began as his wife’s Friday routine of sending food to a mosque, soon evolved into something bigger. “After three weeks, I realised the food wasn’t reaching those who needed it most. I asked my wife to cook for 100 people. She did, and I took the meals straight to the homeless,” he said. “I began searching for the homeless in Chow Kit. Once I saw how they lived, I couldn’t unsee it,” he told theSun during an interview under a bridge near the Pasar Seni LRT station, where a group of people sleeps rough. That night, Abbe and his team had just finished distributing packets of nasi bungkus to about a dozen men and women. Since then, he has made it a point to provide food to the needy every Friday without fail. “The joy of hearing them call out ‘Ayah’s here!’ when I arrive with hot meals keeps me going,” he said. But food was only the start. Abbe said many of the homeless came to

Homeless people who seek shelter under a bridge near the Pasar Seni LRT Station are among those who received packets of nasi bungkus . For Abbe (inset), the motivation comes from faith. – ADAM AMIR HAMZAH THESUN

unemployed. With Abbe’s help, he finally returned home and is now working again on his family’s rubber plantation. “It’s not laziness. It’s lost direction. Sometimes, all they need is someone to remind them they still matter, they are still people,” Abbe said. The high cost of living has also forced many into homelessness. Some earn up to RM120 a day through odd jobs, but with room rentals averaging RM600 to RM700 a month, the streets become their only option. Determined to address deeper issues, Abbe established Pertubuhan Jejak Jalanan to help families overlooked by aid agencies. “If we don’t have an official organisation, we can’t bring their issues to the government,” he said. Through the NGO, he has linked families with the right agencies, resulting in many securing financial assistance. His advocacy also prompted the Federal Territories Islamic Religious Council to review its housing aid. “Many were living in appalling

Kuala Lumpur with hope of finding work, only to see their plans fall apart. “Let me share a story from four years ago. “I was driving near Masjid India during heavy rain when I saw an old man shivering by the roadside. He had only been homeless for two or three nights,” he said. The man, from Terengganu, had travelled to the capital in search of work but failed to secure a job. “His money ran out and he had nowhere to go. I gave him some cash for a bus ticket home.” Abbe also recalled a guitar repairman from Baling, Kedah, who had been scammed. He lost everything and ended up on the streets. “They don’t want to be homeless. They came with hope. But when things fall apart, some are too ashamed to go home empty handed. So they stay here, stranded.” Abbe recently helped a man return to Perlis after 10 months of sleeping rough. The man had lost his factory job in Shah Alam, tried his luck in Johor and Kuala Lumpur but remained

rented rooms despite the council paying RM500 to 600 monthly. I raised my concerns, and now the council plans to rent whole houses at RM800, giving families safety, space and dignity. “There are also plans to support small businesses so they can earn sustainable incomes,” he said. His work has since expanded beyond Chow Kit to Kelantan and Sabah. In Sandakan, he found children with no shelter, no citizenship and no access to school. Moved by their plight, he secured a building to be turned into a learning centre with a dormitory. Classes in reading, writing, arithmetic, Quranic studies and basic living skills will begin soon, with ustaz volunteering their time. “This isn’t just about feeding people. It’s about dignity. Let’s not just help them survive, let’s help them thrive,” he said. For Abbe, the motivation comes from faith. “There’s a hadith – every bite someone takes from food you give earns you 40 rewards. That’s what I hold on to,” he said.

Independence means ensuring ‘no one is left behind’ KUALA LUMPUR: What is the meaning of Merdeka if those around us are still struggling to survive? inspired him most, Abbe recalled a father battling drug addiction who was jailed, leaving two sons to fend for themselves. teenagers to join a spiritual development programme, paying RM1,400 for their participation. “Now, just three months later, he recites Al-Fatihah perfectly. “He now wakes up every day at 4.45am to perform iktikaf (spiritual retreat) at the mosque – something even those with comfort and stability often find difficult to maintain.”

This is the principle held close to the heart of Azhan Adnan, fondly known as Abbe, who has spent the past five years dedicating his life to helping the homeless and underprivileged. To him, independence is not about parades or fireworks, but about ensuring no one is left behind. When asked about the story that

“There’s one that really moved me, a father who went to prison, leaving his sons to themselves. One of the boys was just 18. He couldn’t recite Al Fatihah . “Didn’t even know how to pray,” he told theSun . Rather than judge, Abbe saw potential. He encouraged the

The teenager is in a 10-month programme that combines spiritual growth with vocational training, including roti canai making, barbering and farming. “They don’t just train and leave. They’ll make sure he’s set up his business, with full support,” Abbe said.

“His face glows with light. His mother told me her son looks brighter now. “Before this, his face was dull. Now he prays five times a day and looks glowing,” Abbe said. The older brother’s discipline also impressed him.