Dear Editor,
As the sacred days of Eid al-Adha draw closer, my heart overflows with a tender mixture of happiness, gratitude to Allah, and a quiet ache of longing. My name is Puan Aishah Hassan, and I am writing as a proud mother from a small town in Malaysia. My eldest son, Muhammad Hakim, works as a security guard at a company in Johor Bahru. This year, once again, he will not be able to return home to celebrate Eid with us.
He had applied for leave several weeks ago, full of hope that he could join our family for the Qurbani, the morning prayers at the mosque, and the joyful gatherings that make this festival so meaningful. When he called me with the news that his leave request was denied due to staffing needs during the holiday period, I could sense the disappointment in his voice. As his mother, my heart broke a little too. The thought of his empty seat at our Eid table, the missing warmth of his presence, and the laughter that fills our home when he is around brought tears to my eyes.
Yet, despite this sadness, I am incredibly proud of my son. Hakim is a responsible, hardworking young man who left home not for his own comfort, but to support our family. He stands long hours under the blazing sun and sometimes through heavy tropical rains, ensuring the safety of others while we sleep peacefully at night. Every ringgit he sends home helps pay for his younger siblings’ education, family expenses, and gives us a better life. In my eyes, he is not just a security guard — he is a silent hero, a man of strong faith and great responsibility. His sacrifice reminds me of the true spirit of Eid al-Adha: giving up something dear for the greater good of others.
I miss him more than words can express, especially during this blessed season. I miss preparing his favourite Eid dishes — the rich, aromatic beef rendang simmered for hours until tender, the soft ketupat wrapped carefully in woven coconut leaves, golden lemang roasted over the fire, and the colourful assortment of kuih-muih and cookies that he always enjoyed with such delight. Our kitchen feels quieter without him tasting the food and complimenting my cooking with that bright smile of his. I also miss the lively energy he brings to the family. His younger brothers and sisters look up to him so much — they miss their big brother’s jokes, his help in preparing for Eid prayers, and the way he organises fun group photos after everyone is dressed in their best baju Melayu and baju kurung. The house feels incomplete without his presence.
Even so, I fully understand and support his decision to stay strong at his post. He is doing this for us — for his family. As a mother, I have learned that true love sometimes means letting go and trusting in Allah’s plan. This temporary separation is difficult, but it is also teaching all of us patience, gratitude, and resilience.
To my beloved son, Muhammad Hakim, I want you to know this from the depths of my heart: Your mother is so very proud of you. Stay safe, keep your prayers consistent, and hold your head high in your uniform. This Eid, even though we are apart in distance, we are united in spirit and love. May Allah accept every sacrifice you make, ease your duties, protect you from harm, and open doors of success and barakah for you. Your hard work will never go unnoticed by Allah or by your family. We are counting the days until we can hug you again and celebrate together, Insha’Allah. Eid Mubarak, my dear child. You are our pride and joy.
To all mothers and fathers whose children are working far from home, let us turn our longing into positive strength. Let us support them with constant prayers, encouraging words, and unwavering faith. And to all companies and employers across Malaysia, I humbly appeal to you with a mother’s heart — please show greater understanding and flexibility to your workers during important religious festivals like Eid. A few days of compassionate leave can heal hearts, strengthen family bonds, and build greater loyalty among your staff.
This Eid al-Adha, let us remember that every sacrifice made with sincerity carries beautiful rewards. I thank Allah every day for blessing me with such a dutiful and loving son. I pray that every family experiencing separation finds comfort, hope, and eventual joyful reunion.
Thank you, dear Editor, for giving voice to the quiet struggles and deep pride of many Malaysian families like ours. May this letter bring comfort and motivation to others who are going through similar situations.
Yours sincerely,
Puan Aishah Hassan
Proud Mother
Date: 25 May 2026
