by Dr Rahim Said
Somewhere between the sambal petai and the apple crumble, three very distinguished Malaysian gentlemen — two Datuks and one Tan Sri — sat down for lunch and a laugh.
These men, who had once shaken hands with kings, advised ministers, or possibly were the ministers themselves, now speak mostly about fibre intake, blood pressure, prostate enlargement, and who had forgotten where they parked.
They no longer debate national budgets, but which café serves the best ‘kopi kampung’. (Spoiler alert: it’s not Common Man, though one Datuk swears by the ‘kopi’ from Raju’s roadside stall off Jalan Gasing.)
Having conquered Maslow’s hierarchy — from basic survival to the penthouse suite of self-actualisation — they’re now eyeing a different kind of summit: 90. Maybe even 100, if Allah permits. Or if their wives keep hiding the ‘kicap manis’.
But don’t be fooled — these men haven’t retired. Oh no. They’ve just been redirected, as Chief Dr. David Ogba Onuoha Bourdex (MFR, OON, Ugo’Ena of Abiriba — try fitting that on a business card) wisely advised in his stirring piece, “You Cannot Retire.”
The Chief is right. Retirement, in the traditional sense, is a scam. It promises golf and golden years but often delivers joint pain and early expiry dates.
Especially if you think a gold watch and a final HR farewell cake is the end of your story. Our trio at Sambal Hijau knows better.
They are not sitting still. One has just started an NGO. Another is compiling his third memoir (the first two were vetoed by his wife and former boss, in that order). The Tan Sri has taken up gardening, though sources close to the family say his lawn now looks like Bukit Jalil after a Coldplay concert.
But more importantly, they’re still useful. Still relevant. Still cracking jokes with the sharpness of men who once navigated policy, profit, and public scorn with the same confidence they now navigate the aisles of any upmarket grocer.
You see, these men have moved from striving to serving. From building organisations to building meaning. They are still, in their quiet way, burning.
Chief Bourdex says:
“Even a candle in its last inch must burn with dignity, casting light until the final flicker.”
Our gentlemen are that candle — flickering, yes, but still lighting the table with warm banter and meaningful reflection.
No longer chasing titles, they now carry the most powerful one of all: elder.
Not elder as in “let me nap after lunch,” but elder as in “let me tell you why this matters.”
A guiding hand. A listening ear. A living testimony that you don’t need to die to be done, and you certainly don’t need to stop moving just because the pension cheque arrives.
So let this be a gentle nudge to every retiree and pre-retiree: Don’t just sit there counting your EPF like you’re auditioning for a role in Squid Game: Malaysian Edition.
Pick up a new project. Mentor a youth. Paint a wall. Paint on the wall. Learn the ukulele. Write that memoir (even if your wife still says “don’t you dare”). Or perhaps get together to write a Book of Wisdom to pass down to the next generation!
Because as long as there’s breath in your lungs and ‘teh tarik’ in your cup, you still have purpose. Just ask the two Datuks and a Tan Sri at Common Man.
They came, they ate, they laughed — and then they quietly reminded us: You cannot retire from being alive.
(The thoughts expressed here are entirely those of the writer)
WE