eHomemakers Malaysia

I HAVE been giving talks on writing, working from home, and building home-based businesses for several years now. Often, I get e-mail from people who have attended the talks. Some are doing well after taking the plunge to try something new. They heeded the advice given them and kept improving their skills and knowledge until they knew how to handle new challenges. However, a large majority have not taken a single step towards what they had so wanted to do. A woman met me in a car park recently, and said: “Your talk was good but a home-based business is not for me. I am too old to try new things. “Also, I don’t want to work so hard when my kids are still young. I don’t have a tertiary education like you, so everything takes more time. I don’t have the business skills and I am scared to do anything new!” Just before she closed the door of her BMW, she threw in one last sentence, “And I don’t have money for the capital!” I was rooted to the ground after hearing so many...

Born and bred in Ipoh, the third largest town in Malaysia, Chong Sheau Ching attained her Bachelor's Degrees in Food Science and Nutrition in Canada and a Master's Degree in International Administration in the United States.           She spent ten years working in international organizations on community empowerment through health and informal education, poverty alleviation and sustainable development programs.        She returned to Kuala Lumpur for the birth of her daughter in 1994. From her home, she then began to write "stories for My Mother", a weekly column in Malaysia's most popular English-language newspaper, The Star, from where she soon gained a large following.         More recently, she established projects designed to open up new opportunities for mothers and homemakers. She edited and co-authored "Working @ Home - A Guidebook for Working W...

"Hi! How are you?” The woman smiled as she took the seat beside me. She had to lower herself slowly, squeezing her ample bottom into the seat, filling all available space. Positioning herself comfortably, she plopped her enormous arm on our common armrest. Her immensity saturated the space around us, shrinking me and my seat into insignificance. I cringed and reclined towards the window. She leaned towards me and repeated her greeting in an upbeat, friendly voice. Her face towered above my head, forcing me to turn to look at her. “Hi,” I replied with obvious loathing. I turned away to stare out the cabin window, sulking silently about the long hours of discomfort I was going to experience with this monster beside me. She nudged me with her meaty arm. “My name is Laura. I’m from Britain. How about you? Japan?” “Malaysia,” I barked. “I’m so sorry! Will you accept my heartfelt apology? Come, shake my hand. If we’re going to spend six hours side-by-side on this flight, ...

At 52, Marian Lough is too young to be stricken down by Parkinson's Disease, a condition which debilitates the person physically, making bodily movements difficult. Although she's still in the early stages of the degenerative disease, she talks to CHONG SHEAU CHING about how it has changed her life, and how she keeps her chin up. "I love Kuala Lumpur!" Marian Lough said excitedly, serving me a refreshing Marian's Cocktail - Ribena in tonic with a twist of lemon. "I love the smells and the wetness of the wet market, the side streets, finding things I've never seen before and talking to the locals. "I just wish I didn't have to leave, " she sighed. "I'll miss all my friends, and - this may sound strange - the mini buses!" "I was on one yesterday, and the bus driver, who was puffing while carrying on a shouting match with the conductor swerved the bus dangerously at high speed. My knuckles went white from gripping...

“These fellahin (villagers) are stupid! If you want them to do something, you have to tell them over and over again! Even after you show them a million times what to do, they still forget everything. And when they do something wrong, they don’t tell you until it’s too late!” Dr. Mona pointed at Zaineb as she rattled off her frustrations to me. “Her sister has worked for me for a year and she still makes the stupidest mistakes. I have to scream at her every time she comes!” Dr, Mona then harshly scolded Zaineb, who stood there timidly with her head down, her two hands folded in front of her. She looked like a frightened cat. I had just arrived in Mansoura, a town by the Nile Delta in Egypt. Dr. Mona, the director of an organization, was my counterpart and local contact. She was doing her best to help me settle in, including bringing me Zaineb as my maid. For over an hour that day, she gave me a cultural run-down on how to treat maids. She also translated what I wanted Zain...

“ALL that glitters is not gold. All that is white is not milk. All those who wear saffron clothes are not necessarily sanyasi (a sanyasi is a Hindu monk who guides his followers to the right path).” This ancient Indian saying came to mind when a friend said in anger, “I am so sick of these ultra-religious people!” She had been reading news about religious teachers raping girls and molesting boys in the name of religion. I am reminded of the movie And Never Let Her Go, based on a true story. The protagonist is a rich, prominent lawyer, who is married with four kids. He is religious, confident and arrogant. He manipulates women who love him by getting them to do what he wants, including buying a gun for him, and lying about his whereabouts. He uses everyone, including the governor. He stalks his lover, Alice, when she wanted to break up with him. When his wife is murdered, Alice becomes the prime suspect because of the physical evidence he plants on her. The plot thickens when the murd...

Many companies are offering lucrative home-based jobs, but are they for real? SEVERAL readers have asked me how reliable the home-based jobs advertised in the newspapers are. One of them related her experience: “I responded to an ad which offered a home-based data entry job with an attractive salary. I could earn RM300-RM500 per week! So I went for the interview and was ‘selected’. “Later the company asked me for registration and documentation fees, which amounted to RM110. They promised to give me the assignment after a week. “After the week passed, I called and was told the job was not available, and that I had to wait another week. I called every week after that, but they kept giving me the same reason. I knew I had been cheated. “I went for another interview with a forex trading company for a data entry job at home. I sat for the ‘training’ to test my mathematical skills. They later tried to convince me to invest in forex trading through their company. “When I asked about the job, ...

Chong Sheau Ching rediscovers an ancient lesson through food and legend.   Photo by Tzer Haw “Kuo Whai fell deeply in love with a beautiful girl in his village. Unfortunately, she was taken into the Emperor’s Palace as one of his 3000 consorts. Once she entered the Palace, not even her own family could ever see her again. The only way Kuo Whai could see her was to become a Palace eunuch. He did, and he toiled for years from a low-level eunuch to one of high position. Eventually, he became the personal eunuch of the girl, who had become the Emperor’s First Consort. Even though he could not have her as his wife, he was content just serving her and watching her enjoying her life. For 20 years, he was her confidante. He lived for her and strove to fulfill her dream of becoming the Empress. He wove webs of deceit and eliminated all her enemies. Justice Bao eventually found him guilty of murder. Before Kuo Whai was beheaded for his crime, he told the new Empress how lo...

"Good morning, Madame!  Aziza here now."  She smiled and her plump cheeks buldged upwards, pushing her old-fashioned, black-rimmed glasses up to her eye­brows.  All covered in a black caftan and long veil, Aziza stood at the door clutching her usual plastic shopping bag containing her work clothes.   She followed me, a sign of respect to her employer, as we climbed the twenty steps to my apart­ment.  When I reached the top, Aziza was still only half-way up.  Panting heavily, she hauled her heavy body up each step with great difficulty.  Her right hand pressed her right thigh as her right leg moved up one step to the next; her left leg moved the same way.  Every time she exerted force with her legs, her fleshy feet squeezed into her little shoes, seeming to want to burst out of them. Sweat seeped through her veil near her temples when she reached the top of the stairs.  Her thick lenses were so foggy that I could not see her eyes....