Episode 7 — Sabar & Istiqamah: Leading When Change Is Slow

Not everyone who gives up is wrong.
Some grow tired of doing the right thing alone.

In Episode 7 of MIB Management 101, I reflect on sabar and istiqamah — what it truly means to remain steadfast when change is slow, resistance is subtle, and integrity feels isolated.

 

☕ KopiTalk with MHO | MIB Management 101

 

“Ad-dāʾimūna al-muḥsinūna bi-l-hudā — Always render service with God’s guidance.”

 

When Doing the Right Thing Starts to Feel Heavy

I once watched a capable, well-intentioned officer quietly give up.

Not because he was wrong.

Not because he was lazy.

Not because he lacked ideas.

He gave up because doing the right thing took too long.

Looking back, many of these moments only began to make sense later when I started to see work not merely as output, but as a service guided by something higher.

He entered the organisation with energy and hope. He asked questions others avoided. He suggested improvements that others postponed. He tried to solve problems that people had learned to live with.

At first, he was tolerated.

Then he was labelled belabih.

After that, he was slowly ignored.

Eventually, he stopped pushing.

He still came to work.

He still did what was required.

But something had dimmed.

That moment stayed with me because it reminded me of this:

Not all failures come from bad intentions. Some come from patience slowly wearing thin.

 

The Quiet Struggle of Those Who Want Change

Most people don’t enter the workplace wanting to cut corners.

They want to contribute.

They want to improve things.

They want to believe their efforts matter.

But over time, resistance appears — not always loudly, not always openly.

Sometimes it comes as:

• endless delays

• polite deflections

• reminders to ikut cara lama

• warnings not to disturb the balance

Change does not always fail through confrontation. More often, it fades through fatigue.

People don’t abandon principles because they stop believing in them. They abandon them because standing alone is tiring.

Over the years, I have come to realise that these quiet struggles are not unknown at the highest level. 

His Majesty has repeatedly reminded leaders that their duty is not merely to hold office, but to care, guide, and show concern for those under their charge. 

Leadership, in this understanding, is not about looking down from above, but about staying close enough to notice when people are struggling.

In a Negara Zikir, patience is not weakness. It is how conscience survives pressure.

 

Sabar Is Not Silence

Sabar is often misunderstood.

It is not about keeping quiet at all costs.

It is not about accepting everything.

It is not about pretending nothing hurts.

Sabar, to me, is emotional discipline.

It is feeling frustrated — and choosing not to become bitter.

It is feeling disappointment — and choosing not to give up on yourself.

The Qur’an reminds us:

“Indeed, Allah is with those who are patient.” (Al-Baqarah 2:153)

Not those who shut down.

Not those who pretend.

But those who stay steady without losing their values.

 

Istiqamah Is Not About Being Hard-Headed

Istiqamah, too, is often misunderstood.

It is not about pushing endlessly.

It is not about winning arguments.

And it is not about forcing change.

Istiqamah is about moral consistency.

It means staying upright when shortcuts are tempting.

It means remaining honest when dishonesty seems rewarded.

It means doing what is right even when no one notices.

The Qur’an says:

“So remain steadfast as you have been commanded.” (Hud 11:112)

Not as long as it feels comfortable.

Not as long as applause comes.

But as you have been guided.

 
When ‘Belabih’ Becomes a Label for Integrity

In some workplaces, people who remain consistent are not encouraged.

They are labelled.

Too idealistic.

Too vocal.

Too ambitious.

Too different.

Sometimes, istiqamah is mistaken for defiance.

Sometimes, sincerity makes others uncomfortable.

I have seen capable people sidelined — not because they were wrong, but because they refused to bend quietly.

This is where many start asking themselves:

“Is it worth it?”

This is where sabar and istiqamah begin to need each other.

Sabar keeps the heart steady.

Istiqamah keeps the direction clear.

 

Knowing When to Pause Without Giving Up

One difficult lesson I have learned is this:

Sabar does not always mean pushing forward.

Sometimes it means slowing down.

Istiqamah does not always mean staying loud.

Sometimes it means staying clean.

There are moments when reform is not about winning today — but about planting seeds quietly.

Not every sincere effort bears fruit in our lifetime.

But every sincere effort still counts.

And sometimes, that has to be enough.

 
Closing Reflection: Staying Upright When the Path Is Crooked

Leadership, especially principled leadership, is not a sprint.

Systems change slowly.

Mindsets change more slowly.

Egos change the slowest of all.

Along the way, many good people grow tired — not because they lack faith, but because they feel alone.

I am reminded of moments when welfare concerns were raised by rank-and-file officers, and His Majesty chose to listen rather than dismiss. 

He did not side with position or rank, but with fairness. That matters because it tells those who try to remain upright that patience is not invisible, and consistency is not pointless.

Sabar reminds us not to abandon ourselves.

Istiqamah reminds us not to abandon what is right.

And perhaps the question is not:

“Why is change taking so long?”

But this:

“Can I remain honest, kind, and principled — even while waiting?”

Perhaps this is what it means to keep rendering service with guidance — not perfectly, but sincerely.

Because sometimes, the real test of leadership is not how much we change the system…

…but how well we remain ourselves while living within it.

 

📖 KopiTalk with MHO — reflections brewed gently, with honesty and heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brunei’s Future Looks Bright, But the Present Feels Dim

The future looks promising, but many Bruneians are still stuck waiting. Graduates with no jobs, vendors waiting on payments, and plans that feel slow to arrive — what happens when national vision doesn’t match everyday reality?

KopiTalk with MHO

As Brunei advances its long-term economic plan, many citizens are still asking a difficult question: when will things start to improve for the rest of us?

The Ministry of Finance and Economy (MOFE) recently reaffirmed its commitment to fiscal discipline, stating that “every dollar must be used wisely to ensure long-term sustainability.”

Officials have assured the public that current budgetary policies are designed not just for today, but for the next generation.

“We are focusing on growth areas that matter — digital transformation, human capital, and food security,” a MOFE spokesperson told the Borneo Bulletin.

But while ministries plan for the future, the view from the ground is far less optimistic.

Across social media and online forums, many Bruneians have voiced concerns that fiscal discipline — while important — has yet to translate into real improvements in their daily lives.

One user commented that around 5,000 university graduates remain jobless, despite holding degrees. Others pointed to repeated delays in public projects and late payments to vendors as signs that things aren’t moving fast enough.

“We keep hearing about long-term planning, but what about now?” asked one commenter. “It’s been years of promises. Trust needs action.”

These concerns reflect a broader sense of unease — not a rejection of national goals, but growing frustration over slow execution and limited communication.

Some of the strongest reactions are coming from small business owners and unemployed youth.

One vendor said they had waited months to be paid after completing a government contract.

Others shared that they no longer expect major opportunities from government-linked programmes and are instead exploring options outside the country.

Infrastructure development is another common concern. While large-scale projects are underway, citizens say their own towns and districts have seen little change.

Roads are in need of repair. Basic services appear stalled. And job creation, they argue, hasn’t kept up with the needs of a growing youth population.

To be fair, the Ministry has been clear about the reasons for its caution.

With oil revenues no longer as dependable as before, the government is tightening its belt to secure Brunei’s financial future.

The 2024–2025 budget focuses on targeted investments rather than broad-based spending. In principle, this approach is sound — but it offers little comfort to those who feel they’ve been left behind.

MOFE has also indicated its support for public-private partnerships, digital innovation, and entrepreneurship. 

But critics argue that without a clear framework for youth inclusion and transparent updates on progress, the gap between policy and people will only continue to grow.

Public sentiment snapshot:

🗣 “Too much talk, not enough action.”
🗣 “Still waiting for jobs. Still waiting for updates.”
🗣 “We believe in the vision, but we’re struggling to stay hopeful.”

The big picture matters — Brunei’s economy must transform if it is to thrive. But transformation must also be felt by the people who are living with the realities of the present.

As one young graduate quietly put it:

“We’re not against the plan. We just want to be part of it. For real.” (MHO/12/2025)

Economic Signals Point to a Defining Moment as Brunei Enters 2026

As Brunei stands at a crossroads, the sun sets on an oil-driven past while the horizon hints at a new dawn of innovation and sustainability. But with time slipping fast through the hourglass, the question remains — will the nation act swiftly enough to shape its future before the old foundations crumble?
 

With global markets shifting and structural challenges mounting, the nation stands at a crucial juncture before Wawasan 2035.
 
By Malai Hassan Othman | KopiTalk with MHO

It all started with a brief comment online immediately after Brunei released its latest economic reports. Someone wrote, “Are we moving fast enough for what’s coming?” It was a quiet, almost shy remark, but it captured a feeling many families have as they watch global uncertainty rise while the local economy seems to be moving to its own beat. It set the stage for a broader reflection that now feels unavoidable.

The Economic Census of Enterprises (ECE) 2024 painted a picture that was both familiar and concerning. While the number of businesses went up, total revenue took a nosedive. Industry revenue dropped by nearly 25%, and the services sector barely grew. Employment grew by 11.5%, but almost half the workforce is still made up of non-locals, mainly in construction, retail, accommodation, and other labour-heavy sectors. For many, this pattern feels all too familiar: activity without resilience, growth without depth, movement without momentum.

AMRO’s 2025 assessment sharpened these worries. It recognised Brunei’s strong macroeconomic stability but pointed out the slow pace of diversification, limited productivity gains, and ongoing reliance on hydrocarbon output and government spending. The report emphasised the need for better competitiveness, improved workforce productivity, and a quicker transformation in the private sector. It didn’t dramatise the situation; it simply suggested that Brunei’s current pace might not match the speed of global changes.

The BEO2025 report by the Centre for Strategic Policy Studies (CSPS) tackled the issue with a clear structure. It highlighted an ageing labour force, a decade-long drop in total factor productivity, and the continued focus of most enterprises on low-value activities. It also noted the dependence on foreign labour, persistent youth unemployment and underemployment, and long-term fiscal pressures that could get worse as global hydrocarbon demand softens. These findings might seem technical on paper, but their implications are very real. They affect whether young people see a future at home, whether families feel secure, and whether the promises of Wawasan 2035 remain attainable.

Yet, amidst the unease, a different perspective came from within the country’s energy and industrial sector. A senior professional pointed out that Brunei is one of the few nations in the world that still has all the strategic tools needed to move beyond hydrocarbons. With monetary sovereignty, minimal external debt, and solid reserves, there’s room for strategic investment instead of just defensive cuts. In many countries, those options are long gone. But in Brunei, they’re still available.

The expert stressed that Brunei’s small population, often seen as a limitation, is actually an advantage for national realignment. Changes can happen quickly when the scale is manageable. The country’s geography and international reputation — built on safety, trust, clean governance, and stability — are valuable in halal markets, Islamic finance, digital security, and green energy supply chains. These aren’t just soft attributes; they’re competitive assets in a region where competition is heating up.

Brunei’s state asset base, built over years of hydrocarbon revenue, was pointed out as another overlooked strength. Much of the essential infrastructure and institutional capacity is already in place. This allows future national capital to be directed not just toward catching up, but toward leapfrogging — acquiring advanced technologies, building new value chains, and nurturing enterprises that can compete regionally. Here, the expert echoed the official reports: the country has the capacity, but it needs to move faster.

Public sentiment, on the other hand, is grounded in daily concerns. Rising living costs, the slow creation of quality jobs, and the pressures of an ageing population weigh heavily on families. One comment summed it up: “We just want to know that our kids will have better opportunities than we did.” It wasn’t a critique. It was a hope — softly stated but widely felt.

Together, the ECE 2024, AMRO 2025, and BEO 2025 findings outline a clear and coherent landscape. The foundation is solid. The stability is real. But the space for hesitation is shrinking. Global oil markets are facing long-term uncertainty, with analysts warning of possible downward price pressure by the end of the decade. The reports don’t predict decline; they describe a transition that will need decisiveness and speed.

That’s why the timeline is crucial.

As 2025 approaches and the nation prepares for 2026, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the sense that a turning point is near. Wawasan 2035 — once a distant goal — is now only nine years away. The window for meaningful reform is closing. The official data has laid out the challenges clearly, the public has voiced its concerns, and industry observers have pointed out the country’s untapped strengths. The coming year can't just be another year of steady caution. It has to be a year of focus, pace, and determination.

The window is still open. How wide it stays — and for how long — will depend on the choices Brunei makes in 2026 and beyond. (MHO/12/2025)