07/02/2026
SATURDAY | FEB 7, 2026
18 Emotional infidelity in modern marriages A FRIEND of mine discovered, intimacy, vulnerability, flirtation and desire are invested elsewhere, the betrayal has already occurred. P O T T U O N P O I N T cheating does not belong to one gender – men and women cheat. Emotional affairs and digital intimacy cross gender lines. Framing infidelity as a gendered flaw only distracts from accountability. loneliness they have been living with for years. Cheating may offer the cheater excitement, validation or escape but for the person left behind, it crystallises a devastating truth: they were alone in the marriage. Unnoticed. Unprioritised.
in her 11th year of marriage, that her husband was sexting with another woman. Sexting is the exchange of sexually explicit messages, images or conversations through digital platforms. It may not involve physical touch but it does involve intention – desire, secrecy and emotional energy redirected outside the marriage. In a country where we still debate whether emotional infidelity “counts”, this distinction matters. They had been together for more than a decade – built a life, bought a home and raised three children – sharing the familiar Malaysian grind: school runs, traffic jams, rising costs, family obligations, long workdays and even longer nights. From the outside, it looked like a stable marriage – not dramatic, not messy – just life, as many couples live it. But what stays with me is not the sexting alone, not even the question of whether it was “physical”; the real story is the emotional disconnect that had been quietly growing for years. There is a persistent myth, especially in conservative societies like ours, that cheating only becomes real when bodies touch but emotional infidelity is still infidelity. When IN life, a leader will surface and shine but opportunity and timing are essential for success. One such leader is Capt Izham Ismail, who retired as CEO of Malaysia Aviation Group (MAG) on Jan 31, 2026. Izham, an SPM leaver from Alor Setar, was trained – like me – as a pilot at Philippine Airlines Aviation School in Manila in 1979. I was there earlier, in 1971. In the 1970s and early 1980s, most Malaysia Airlines (MAS) pilots were trained there because it was the most affordable option and there were no flying schools yet in Malaysia. By the time I encountered Izham, I was already a captain. I saw him as a smart, enthusiastic young man – always smiling, respectful and eager to learn. I only got to know him better on Nov 23, 1988, when I conducted his line training on the DC-10 aircraft. It was his first commercial flight with passengers after completing his simulator training for the type. At the time, I was chief pilot for Flight Safety and Security as well as a flight instructor. I had my own way of training pilots. I never spoon-fed anyone and I liked to test them. On that flight to Hong Kong, I noticed that Izham was exceptionally well prepared. He looked confident, greeted me politely and carried that familiar smile. After completing cockpit preparation, during the take-off briefing, I said: “Your sector.” That meant he would be the PF (pilot flying) while I would act as PM (pilot monitoring). He would conduct the take-off and landing; I would monitor and handle the co-pilot’s duties. His response was one of shock. “Huh?” I repeated: “Your sector. Take me to Hong Kong.” This also meant that if runway 13 was in use, he would have to fly the difficult IGS approach and landing. He protested. “This is my first flight and I’ve never been to Hong Kong before.” “Never mind. Take me there,” I said. Was I taking a risk by allowing him to fly a real aircraft for the first time, especially into LETTERS letters@thesundaily.com
Sexting may happen through a screen but the hurt it causes is deeply embodied. The trust broken does not distinguish between digital and physical. Emotional neglect rarely announces itself. It doesn’t arrive with a confession or a fight; it creeps in slowly – through silences, postponed conversations, through “I’m tired”, “later-lah” or “we’ll talk another time”. It shows up in marriages that function efficiently but feel empty – where conversations revolve around children, finances and logistics but never fears, needs or longing. By the time sexting enters the picture, the marriage has often already been emotionally abandoned.
Cheating is not a personality trait or a biological inevitability; it is a choice and the damage it causes does not discriminate. Motherhood adds another layer to this pain. In many Malaysian households, women carry an invisible load that rarely gets named: emotional labour, mental planning, remembering and anticipating. Managing children’s needs, family expectations, careers, ageing parents and household routines – all while being expected to remain emotionally available and endlessly resilient. And then, quietly, the partner who was meant to be a teammate begins to withdraw. She keeps holding everything together while becoming increasingly unseen. The tragedy here is not just infidelity; it is invisibility. Being present in every way that counts, yet emotionally erased; giving stability, care and commitment, only to discover that the emotional partnership she believed in had already eroded. For many women, sexting does not come as a shock; it confirms a
B
R I
Y
Underappreciated. That realisation often hurts far more than the act itself. This is why emotional honesty matters. Intimacy cannot be outsourced without consequence. Love cannot survive prolonged silence. And emotional labour – visible and invisible – deserves recognition, not betrayal. My friend’s story is not unique. Emotional disconnection unfolds quietly in many Malaysian marriages, hidden behind routine, cultural expectations and the pressure to “make it work”. Sexting, in this context, is not just about sex; it is about attention redirected, desire misplaced and intimacy without accountability. This is not a story of simple villains and victims; it is a caution. Because sometimes, the affair is not the beginning of the end; it is merely the moment the silence finally screams. HashiniKavishtri Kannan is the assistant news editor at theSun. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
H
T
A
H
S
S
I
H
V
I
N
A
I
K
“Sexting may happen through a screen but the hurt it causes is deeply embodied. The trust broken does not distinguish between digital and physical.
My friend’s story also forces us to confront an uncomfortable truth: marital problems are never a justification for cheating – emotional or physical. Stress, financial pressure, parenting fatigue and feeling neglected are realities many Malaysian couples face. But choosing to outsource desire, validation or intimacy to someone else is not a coping mechanism; it is a betrayal. Full stop. It is also important to note that Tribute to Capt Izham Ismail
Hong Kong? No. I had full confidence in him. And of course, I was ready to take over if needed. I didn’t have to. He flew the aircraft flawlessly, strictly according to SOPs and executed a perfect landing. He had read his manuals thoroughly and knew exactly what to do. From that point on, I shared more insights drawn from my own experience. Fast forward to 1995, the airline was privatised and I was appointed director of Flight Operations. Soon after, the airline embarked on an extensive expansion programme – acquiring more Boeing 747-400s and introducing the new Boeing 777. Knowing his capability, I appointed Izham as the project leader, which effectively made him the fleet manager. When the company celebrated its 25th anniversary in October 1997, he was the natural choice to fly the brand-new aircraft on its circumnavigation flight around the globe from the Boeing factory in Seattle. One incident remains vivid in my memory. During the aircraft’s operational introduction, Izham came to me with a problem. “Captain, we have nowhere to train our pilots in aircraft handling. Subang, Kota Kinabalu and Brunei won’t allow it. Johor Bahru is undergoing runway resurfacing. Only the director-general of JKR can approve a deferment.” I said: “Come with me.” I took him to see the DG at his office on Jalan Datuk Onn – without an appointment. Permission was granted. Upon his promotion to the Boeing 747-400 fleet, Izham had to relinquish his Boeing 777 fleet manager position. A few years later, when I was due for my simulator check ride, I saw him emerge from his session looking shattered and clearly distressed. I asked what had happened. He said the instructor had put him through one emergency after another. Before that, the instructor had asked a series of trivial, insignificant questions, clearly designed to test him unnecessarily. Some instructors, to satisfy their egos or to humble a capable individual, resort to such tactics. Izham obtained only a marginal pass – borderline failure. I told him to relax and remain strong. In recognition of his capability, Izham was later appointed director of Flight Operations, taking
Izham retired as CEO of MAG on Jan 3.
over from Capt Ahmad Zuraidi – another of my protégés. In June 2011, as I prepared to retire after my final flight from Cape Town, he wanted to organise a grand farewell for me. I declined. I told him I wished to fade away quietly. He respected my wish. Because he was outspoken and frank, he eventually irked someone within the Aviation Authority. His endorsement as DFO was not renewed and he was replaced by a less dynamic individual. This is something I could never understand. The Aviation Authority should have no say in a company’s internal appointment of its director of Flight Operations. Nevertheless, the company recognised that his talent should not be wasted. He was subsequently appointed to a higher position as senior director of operations – the number two position in management. He truly came into the public spotlight in 2014, when MH370 went missing. Together with the managing director, Ahmad Jauhari, he faced the press. They handled the situation with professionalism and composure. Following Ahmad’s resignation and the appointment of successive expatriate CEOs, Izham remained as number two. When they
eventually left, his appointment to the top role was only natural. The Covid-19 crisis in 2020 posed an immense challenge. Thankfully, the staff rallied behind him. Over time, things began to change. The Employees’ Union and the Pilots’ Association, in particular, had had their wings clipped. Together, after several bailouts, the airline was finally turned around. The reason I decided to write this lengthy piece is to highlight that an organisation will succeed if: 0 the most capable person is chosen and given the opportunity to lead; 0 talent is nurtured from within, as insiders understand the business and operations best; 0 expatriates are not necessarily better than local talent; 0 there is no political or external interference; and 0 staff rally behind management instead of burdening them with inconsiderate demands, as happened in the past. Ultimately, a true leader cannot be sidelined. Capt Mohd Kamil Abu Bakar Former Malaysia Airlines Director of Flight Operations
Made with FlippingBook - Online catalogs