23/01/2026

FRIDAY | JAN 23, 2026

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COMMENT by Dr Ng Kwan Hoong

Gaman , the strength to endure I T was a cold mid-November afternoon in Fukuoka. I had just stepped out of the hotel when I noticed an old man standing by destruction in their wake. Entire towns were devastated. Families were displaced. The air was thick with uncertainty and grief.

What stayed with me most were the women. Many had lost their homes; some had lost husbands or children. Yet they stood in long queues for food and water, often sharing what little they had with others. Some set up makeshift classrooms for their children using salvaged furniture and cardboard. Others tended to the elderly, ensuring no one was left alone. They rarely raised their voices. They did not seek sympathy. But they held their sorrow, fear and duty with remarkable composure. That was gaman in action. A reminder We live in a world that often celebrates noise: loud achievements, dramatic stories and fast success. But much of life’s real strength is quiet. It shows up not in grand gestures, but in ordinary resilience: a single mother working two jobs without complaint; an older man living alone, still sweeping his porch every morning; a student struggling silently through anxiety, yet still showing up for class. This is not to glorify suffering. It is not to say we should remain silent in the face of injustice or pain. Rather, it is a call to care for us and for others when life becomes heavy. To endure without bitterness. To walk forward, albeit slowly, even when our legs are tired. Younger generations today face their own battles: academic pressure, career uncertainty and constant distractions from social media. Sometimes, they are told to be tough, to push through and to win. But gaman offers something different: gentleness instead of toughness and patience instead of pressure. It teaches us that we do not have to be loud to be strong. I thought again of the old man as I watched him disappear into the crowd. No one applauded him. No one

the roadside, waiting to cross. He was slightly bent, one hand gripping his walking stick. His steps were slow and deliberate. The traffic was heavy, the wind was sharp, but he was patient. I found myself pausing a few metres behind him. A younger version of me might have rushed forward to offer help, but something held me back. The way he stood, the way he moved – there was no trace of frustration or despair. Only quiet determination. He waited, gathered himself, then crossed steadily, one step at a time. At one point, he stumbled slightly, paused, then resumed. That was the first time I truly understood gaman . In Japanese philosophy, gaman carries deep meaning. It is often translated as patience, perseverance or endurance, but none of these quite capture its spirit. Gaman is the quiet strength to carry difficulty without complaint. It is about holding oneself together, dignifiedly, in the midst of hardship. It reminded me of something Viktor Frankl, the Austrian psychotherapist, once wrote in Man’s Search for Meaning : “Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” In that space, he said, lies our freedom to choose our attitude, our action, our meaning. Gaman lives in that space. It is the choice to respond to hardship with steadiness, to preserve grace when grace is hardest to find. Years ago, after the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster struck, I was invited by the International Atomic Energy Agency to join a team studying the long-term effects of radiation on the local communities, Japan and the world. The earthquake, tsunami and subsequent nuclear power reactor malfunction had left unprecedented Q: I grew up in a home with an alcoholic father. I’ve abstained from alcohol because of it, but are there other issues I should be concerned about? I don’t want this part of my past to affect my own family. Focus on the Family Malaysia : We admire your courage in wanting to confront your own chal lenges. In the case of children of alcoholics, many grow up to have difficulty expressing their feelings. To survive, they learn to insulate themselves against the pain of their environ ment by “stuffing” emotions like anger and sad ness. They may also have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility derived from the neces sity of caring for a drunken parent and emotion ally supporting other family members during their most formative years. These character traits may be useful in their original setting, but can often become liabilities later in life, espe cially in a marriage relationship. Relating to authority figures can also be a

“Gaman is the quiet strength to carry difficulty without complaint. It is about holding oneself together, dignifiedly, in the midst of hardship.

“In the way he stood and moved, there was no trace of frustration or despair – only quiet determination. He was the true embodiment of gaman.”– AI IMAGE BY SYED AZAHAR SYED OSMAN/THESUN

greatness. Because endurance reveals the quiet greatness already within us. Dr Ng Kwan Hoong is an emeritus professor of Biomedical Imaging at the Faculty of Medicine, Universiti Malaya. A 2020 Merdeka Award recipient, he is a medical physicist by training but also enjoys writing, drawing, listening to classical music and bridging the gap between older and younger generations. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com

noticed him. But something about that slow crossing stayed with me. He did not rush. He did not stumble for sympathy. He simply kept going. There will be days when life feels overwhelming – when illness strikes without warning, when plans fall apart, when losses feel too heavy to carry. We may not always be able to fix what is broken, but we can choose how to move through it. And in that choice, there is quiet

Emotional legacy of parental alcoholism

Q: My fiance and I are going to be married next month. His family is extremely close – relationally and geographically. And though I’m sure that their presence and influence will be positive for our marriage, I’m con cerned we may struggle to establish our selves as a distinct family unit. Am I worrying needlessly? Focus on the Family Malaysia : We commend you for recognising that your husband’s family situation can be an advantage, as well as a chal lenge that needs to be approached wisely. Marriage counsellors and authors Greg Smalley and his wife Erin had been married only a few weeks when they took a three-week trip to England with his family. What might have been a dream vacation in another circumstance turned out to be an absolute disaster. The problem: Once in Europe, Greg reverted to behaving like a son instead of a husband. It was an awkward situation that they weren’t equipped to deal with. Looking back, they realised that they needed more time to become comfortable with their new roles and to form their identity as a couple.

Since then, they have recommended that newlyweds take a “leave of absence” from other areas of life for a time and give priority to each other. This not only includes time-consuming hobbies, but your families of origin and friendships as well. To avoid misunderstanding, explain to your loved ones your reasons for temporarily pulling away. You’re simply giving yourselves a chance to establish strong roots at one of the most crucial points in your relationship. When you emerge from this time, you’ll be better able to interact with others as a husband or wife, instead of settling into the familiar roles of your past. By doing so, you’ll give your marriage its best chance to flourish for years to come. This article is contributed by Focus on the Family Malaysia, a non-profit organisation dedicated to supporting and strengthening the family unit. It provides a myriad of programmes and resources, including professional counselling services, to the community. For more information, visit

Under One Roof

problem. Interestingly, this can lead to widely contrasting outcomes, with some victims adopting a rebellious attitude while others become “people pleasers,” unable to assert themselves even when they’re clearly being taken advantage of. They may also be terribly afraid of abandonment and will do whatever it takes to hold on to a relationship, even when they’re being abused. For these and other reasons, adult children of alcoholics may end up marrying alcoholics or become alcoholics themselves. Even if they don’t drink, they may have extreme “Type A” personalities and display workaholic tendencies. This description doesn’t fit every person who grows up in an alcoholic home. Each person and situation is unique. The good news is that there is effective help available, and our counsellors could point in the right direction. You may schedule an appointment on our website.

family.org.my. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com