Every year-end, something strange happens.
Roadblocks multiply. Summonses spike. Office behaviour suddenly “improves.”
KPI charts rise… but sincerity quietly falls.
It made me wonder:
Are we doing the right thing because it is right -
or because someone is watching?
Episode 5 of MIB Management 101 explores ihsan -
The excellence that begins when supervision ends.
A value our nation speaks about, but our workplaces rarely practice.
It starts with a funny traffic-light story.
It ends with a mirror held up to all of us.
👉 Read: “Ihsan at Work — The Excellence We Lose When No One Is Watching.”
☕ KopiTalk with MHO | MIB Management 101
Episode 5 — Ihsan at Work: The Excellence We Lose When No One Is Watching
“Ad-dāʾimūna al-muḥsinūna bi-l-hudā — Always render service with God’s guidance.”
A Traffic Story We Laugh At… Until We See Ourselves in It
I once heard a story that made everyone laugh - the kind of laughter that conceals a small sting of truth.
A driver ran a red light and got pulled over. The annoyed police officer asked:
“Inda nampak kah lampu merah atu tadi?”
The driver replied, with the honesty that only panic can produce:
“Nampak tuan… tapi saya inda nampak tuan.”
He saw the red light.
But he only obeyed when he saw the enforcer.
Before we judge him, we should recognise that many of us buckle our seatbelts only when we spot a roadblock ahead. Not because it’s safer, but because there’s a uniform watching.
This is not just a traffic story.
It is a story about us.
And this is where the conversation on ihsan begins.
The KPI Culture: When Numbers Become More Important Than People
If you observe closely, a strange pattern emerges in many countries — not just ours.
At year-end, enforcement activities suddenly surge. More stops. More summonses. More "visibility."
Are officers insincere? No. Many serve with genuine dedication.
But systems can shape behaviour more than sincerity can. When performance bonuses depend on KPI numbers, organisations begin to chase targets, not purpose.
Roads become places to meet quotas — not necessarily to save lives.
This is the quiet, uncomfortable truth of modern management:
When KPI becomes king, conscience becomes optional.
That is why the Islamic tradition emphasises something far deeper - a value that cannot be monitored, measured, or manipulated. Ihsan.
Ihsan — The Excellence That Comes From Within
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ described ihsan in the famous Hadith of Jibril:
“To worship Allah as though you see Him; and if you cannot see Him, know that He sees you.”
In simple terms: Do the right thing even when unseen.
Ihsan is not about perfection.
It is about presence - the awareness that every action carries weight, even if no one records it.
However, the Prophet ﷺ also warned us about the opposite of ihsan - riya’. The danger of doing good for the wrong audience.
He said that the thing he feared most for us is riya’, the minor shirk, when good deeds become mere performance.
Actions that win praise here but earn nothing there.
This should concern us not out of fear, but out of self-awareness - because without ihsan, sincerity becomes the first casualty of ambition.
The Quiet Strength of Unseen Goodness
A person of ihsan works differently.
Their effort doesn’t rise when the boss arrives and collapses when the boss leaves.
They don’t wait for CCTV to behave.
They don’t save their best efforts only when someone is evaluating them.
They work with the dignity of someone who knows that Allah sees what HR doesn’t.
Yet, we know the reality in many workplaces. Some people intentionally dim their light:
“Jangan tah luan labih-labih… inda jua kana puji, inda jua naik gaji.”
It becomes a survival mechanism.
A shield.
A quiet resignation.
And yet, this mindset slowly kills organisations from within. It destroys spirit, discourages initiative, rewards mediocrity, and over time, creates an environment where sincerity is punished and hypocrisy is incentivised.
Ihsan is the antidote.
It turns routine into purpose.
Work into service.
Service into ibadah.
The Brunei Context: A Negara Zikir Without Ihsan?
Living in a Negara Zikir should mean more than remembering Allah in rituals — it should mean remembering Him in decisions, in service, in leadership.
But if we are honest, bureaucracy sometimes holds more influence than spirituality. A form stamped with sincerity or with indifference still looks the same.
So ihsan becomes the missing ingredient — the quiet value that no SOP can enforce.
In Brunei’s context, ihsan looks like:
- Serving with warmth, not cold protocol.
- Completing tasks properly even when nobody checks.
- Rejecting misuse of power even when no one will know.
- Choosing fairness even when pressured to bend.
His Majesty often reminds public servants that sincerity and discipline are the foundation of trustworthy governance. Ihsan is the inner engine that turns those reminders into reality.
When Ihsan Spreads, Culture Changes
The beauty of ihsan is that it does not need campaigns, slogans, or posters.
It grows quietly.
When one person practices it, others notice.
When a team practices it, the environment softens.
When an organisation practices it, politics fades and purpose returns.
People feel safer.
Decisions become clearer.
Meetings become less theatrical.
Work becomes meaningful again.
Ihsan is contagious — not loudly, but deeply.
Closing Reflection: The Question Ihsan Asks of Us
We like to believe we are honest, responsible, and ethical — but much of that depends on whether someone is watching.
Ihsan invites us to a higher standard.
A quieter standard.
A more sincere standard.
- Compliance becomes conscience.
- Procedure becomes purpose.
- Work becomes worship.
It shifts everything:
And it leaves us with a simple but unsettling question:
Do we stop at the red light because it is red — or because someone is watching?
In the end, Ihsan is choosing what is right even in moments no one will ever remember — except the One who sees all.
📖 KopiTalk with MHO — reflections brewed gently, with honesty and heart.



