
OPINION | When Haters Hate, Do the Work Anyway
21 Jan 2026 • 8:30 AM MYT
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Fa Abdul
FA ABDUL is a former columnist of Malaysiakini & Free Malaysia Today (FMT)

Photo credit: Nga Kor Ming FB
Recently, a Newswav opinion piece by TheRealNehruism reflected on why, despite repeated efforts, Nga Kor Ming continues to face resistance from segments of the Malay community. Reading it reminded me of a simple but often uncomfortable truth: not every effort is meant to win approval.
There comes a point in life - and especially in public service - when you realise that not everyone is meant to be won over.
No matter how carefully you choose your words, how sincere your intentions are, or how much effort you put into doing the right thing, there will always be people who see fault before they see effort. For them, every action is suspect, every gesture performative, every success undeserved.
That is simply the nature of public life.
At some point, trying too hard to win people over becomes a distraction. Worse, it becomes a trap. Because when approval becomes the goal, integrity quietly takes a back seat.
Interestingly, in a separate, more intimate profile published in 2024, Nga Kor Ming spoke less about politics and more about routine - waking early, running daily, managing stress, and ensuring that he goes to bed each night with a clear conscience. Whether one agrees with his politics or not, it was a reminder that some people approach public office not as a performance, but as a discipline.
That distinction matters.
Because the truth is this: haters will always hate. Not necessarily because you failed, but because your presence - your position, your progress, your visibility - unsettles something in them. And no amount of explanation, accommodation, or overcompensation will change that.
So what, then, is the alternative?
It is to return to something far less glamorous, but far more enduring: doing the work well and with integrity. Showing up with consistency. Making decisions rooted in responsibility rather than applause.
There is a certain dignity in refusing to be dragged into endless cycles of validation-seeking. When your focus is on the quality of your work, not the noise around it, criticism loses some of its power. It may still sting, but it no longer defines you.
This does not mean being arrogant or dismissive of feedback. Constructive criticism matters. Accountability matters. Listening matters.
But there is a difference between feedback meant to improve, and criticism meant to diminish.
The latter is rarely about policy, principles, or performance. More often, it is about ego, insecurity, or the discomfort of seeing someone stand firm without constantly seeking permission to be accepted.
In such moments, restraint becomes a form of strength.
You do not need to explain yourself endlessly. You do not need to perform humility for those who have already decided to misunderstand you. You do not need to bend yourself into shapes that make others comfortable at the cost of your own values.
Instead, you let your work speak - not loudly, but consistently.
There is also wisdom in remembering this: you do not owe everyone access to your sincerity. Some people are not looking to understand; they are looking for leverage. Feeding every provocation only prolongs the cycle.
At the end of the day, respect that is forced is fragile. Approval that is begged for is fleeting. But integrity - quiet, unyielding, and often uncelebrated - endures.
You may not win everyone. You may not even be liked. But if you can look back and say you did your work honestly, with dedication and care, then you have already won something far more lasting than applause.
And for those who still choose to hate? Let them. You have work to do.
Recently, a Newswav opinion piece by TheRealNehruism reflected on why, despite repeated efforts, Nga Kor Ming continues to face resistance from segments of the Malay community. Reading it reminded me of a simple but often uncomfortable truth: not every effort is meant to win approval.
There comes a point in life - and especially in public service - when you realise that not everyone is meant to be won over.
No matter how carefully you choose your words, how sincere your intentions are, or how much effort you put into doing the right thing, there will always be people who see fault before they see effort. For them, every action is suspect, every gesture performative, every success undeserved.
That is simply the nature of public life.
At some point, trying too hard to win people over becomes a distraction. Worse, it becomes a trap. Because when approval becomes the goal, integrity quietly takes a back seat.
Interestingly, in a separate, more intimate profile published in 2024, Nga Kor Ming spoke less about politics and more about routine - waking early, running daily, managing stress, and ensuring that he goes to bed each night with a clear conscience. Whether one agrees with his politics or not, it was a reminder that some people approach public office not as a performance, but as a discipline.
That distinction matters.
Because the truth is this: haters will always hate. Not necessarily because you failed, but because your presence - your position, your progress, your visibility - unsettles something in them. And no amount of explanation, accommodation, or overcompensation will change that.
So what, then, is the alternative?
It is to return to something far less glamorous, but far more enduring: doing the work well and with integrity. Showing up with consistency. Making decisions rooted in responsibility rather than applause.
There is a certain dignity in refusing to be dragged into endless cycles of validation-seeking. When your focus is on the quality of your work, not the noise around it, criticism loses some of its power. It may still sting, but it no longer defines you.
This does not mean being arrogant or dismissive of feedback. Constructive criticism matters. Accountability matters. Listening matters.
But there is a difference between feedback meant to improve, and criticism meant to diminish.
The latter is rarely about policy, principles, or performance. More often, it is about ego, insecurity, or the discomfort of seeing someone stand firm without constantly seeking permission to be accepted.
In such moments, restraint becomes a form of strength.
You do not need to explain yourself endlessly. You do not need to perform humility for those who have already decided to misunderstand you. You do not need to bend yourself into shapes that make others comfortable at the cost of your own values.
Instead, you let your work speak - not loudly, but consistently.
There is also wisdom in remembering this: you do not owe everyone access to your sincerity. Some people are not looking to understand; they are looking for leverage. Feeding every provocation only prolongs the cycle.
At the end of the day, respect that is forced is fragile. Approval that is begged for is fleeting. But integrity - quiet, unyielding, and often uncelebrated - endures.
You may not win everyone. You may not even be liked. But if you can look back and say you did your work honestly, with dedication and care, then you have already won something far more lasting than applause.
And for those who still choose to hate? Let them. You have work to do.
***
Well stated my dearest Fatimah 💖💖💖
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