Amid the bustle of the BERNAMA Putrajaya bureau newsroom, the workday for reporters Thivyamalini Ramalu and Samantha Tan Chiew Tieng often begins like any other, that is, checking assignments, rushing to events and racing against deadlines.
Thivyamalini and Tan, two of the bureau’s seven journalists, are non-Muslims, but they have never hesitated to cover events or take on assignments related to the Muslim faith, staying true to their professional duty.
For instance, during Hari Raya Puasa when many of their Muslim colleagues are on leave, they step in and cover events central to the community’s religion and culture.
Their work has time and again brought them into mosques to cover the Aidilfitri congregations or other events, and, occasionally, to even report on Malaysian pilgrims departing for the hajj.
They have also been assigned to report on religious events touching on sensitive matters such as halal practices and samak or sertu, which some Muslims themselves sometimes struggle to fully grasp.
Their presence in such events is the quiet reflection of a Malaysia that still works best when bridges are built rather than barriers raised.
And it is precisely this spirit of bridge-building that resonates strongly every August and September as the nation marks National Day and Malaysia Day.
In this context, Thivyamalini and Tan’s approach to Muslim-related assignments reflects the kind of understanding Malaysians often talk about but rarely witness.
IT ALL BEGINS AT HOME
In the case of Thivyamalini, 37, whose family speaks Tamil and Telugu, the Malay language has always been part of her life as she spoke to her father only in Malay.
She said she also grew up reading Malay newspapers as her father would bring home several copies every week as he enjoyed reading them.
Attending a national school and later university helped to deepen her command of the language, so by the time she joined BERNAMA, language was no obstacle, but the Malay culture and religion remained territories for her to explore.
Thivyamalini said journalism also emboldened her to ask questions she might otherwise have left unspoken.
“Halal, haram, kafir… I used to ask my friends and sometimes did my own research to find out what these words really meant. I was told that kafir refers to people with no religion, not non-Muslims.
“That explanation stayed with me. It was diplomatic and it helped me appreciate how Muslims see people of other faiths. It made me more respectful of Muslims,” she said.
RESPECT AND UNDERSTANDING
But there were also moments of pain. Thivyamalini still remembers an event she had to cover and where she was served curry noodles with beef. (Hindus do not eat beef as the cow is considered a sacred animal in Hinduism.)
“When I brought it up, I was told to just remove the meat. Would they have said the same thing to a Muslim if pork was served? Never. These little things matter,” she said.
And yet, there were also gestures of inclusion that warmed her heart. There was an occasion when she covered the prayers at Masjid Putra here, stepping into the mosque with her head covered with a veil provided by the mosque.
“No one looked at me differently. It was a two-way understanding. I didn’t change my identity. I had applied vibhuti (sacred ash) on my forehead, but I respected their faith,” she said.
Thivyamalini’s Merdeka and Malaysia Day message is simple but profound: “Before patriotism can take root, we must first understand one another. Respect is basic. Don’t mock, don’t belittle. We all have our beliefs and unity begins there.”
Tan’s path, meanwhile, was slightly different. One of her first assignments after becoming a journalist was to cover the prime minister attending Friday prayers at a mosque. She remembers feeling very nervous.
“I wasn’t sure if I would be accepted. I was very conscious that I was an outsider in that setting,” Tan, 44, said, adding that the Muslims at the mosque welcomed her even though she was not part of their community.
Over time, she began to cherish the opportunity to attend events involving other faiths and cultures.
“The best part of the job is seeing traditions of other communities up close,” she said.
Tan also attributed her good command of Bahasa Melayu to her education at a national school.
“I was sent to a national school as my late mother used to say that it was important for us Malaysians to master BM,” she added.
QUIET PATRIOTISM
Listening to what Thivyamalini and Tan had to share, this writer was reminded of her college days when she was doing an internship at the office of an English daily in Penang. One of her first assignments was to follow a senior journalist to Kek Lok Si Temple and later to the Snake Temple.
The writer remembers being fascinated, not intimidated. Watching other people’s rituals never made her feel that her own aqidah or faith was under threat. Instead, it expanded her appreciation of what it means to live in a plural society.
This is, after all, Malaysia. A country of Malays, Chinese, Indians and many other communities, each with their own beliefs and traditions.
The differences can seem daunting at times, but when approached with sincerity and curiosity, they enrich us rather than divide us.
According to data by the Department of Statistics Malaysia, the country’s population as of 2024 stood at around 34.1 million, of which 30.7 million were citizens.
Bumiputeras, including the majority Malay group and indigenous peoples, comprised about 70.4 percent, while the Chinese made up approximately 22.4 percent, Indians 6.5 percent, and other communities 0.7 percent.
It is easy to speak of unity when giving speeches and uttering slogans. Walking the talk is perhaps harder. But Thivyamalini and Tan do it when they ask questions with humility or step into unfamiliar spaces with respect.
They are not merely covering assignments; they are carrying the stories of one community to another, helping the nation understand itself a little better.
In that sense, their work is a form of patriotism. Not the loud kind that waves flags or chants slogans, but the quiet, steady kind that builds trust and understanding across divides.
And perhaps that is what National Day and Malaysia Day are truly about – it is not only celebrating our independence but learning, year after year, to embrace one another’s differences without fear.
