Organised Chaos v3.0

They teach you to write your own obituaries to help you visualise what you want to achieve in life, so you can envision how you get there. They don’t teach you how to write obituaries for friends who have so much to live for and so much to give, and yet leave us way too soon.

I got up this morning to a message letting me know that Markus Ng, former president of the Essex Malaysian Society among a million other brilliant things, passed away in his sleep last night. He was 23.

When I first got to know him, Markus reminded me what it is like to be Malaysian, after for so long only remembering how to be Malay. Him being an undergraduate and me being a member of staff, our paths rarely crossed and neither did our social circles, but work and interests brought us together. He was an active member of the new and improved UKEC; no longer an MCOBA satellite club but one with interests in creating a better Malaysia through better Malaysians. Markus was an example of the new breed of Malaysians our country needed - and still painfully needs. It seems poignant that as I write this, politicians in Malaysia are battling over state seats, the climax in a political tussle that forgets the little people. Markus was the anti-thesis of this : last year he was the key organiser of the University of Essex Malaysian Society Conference which touched on an issue almost oft forgotten: the plight of the indigenous people of Malaysia - the Orang Asli.

He graduated from Essex last summer, and I learnt that he was working as the Comms Officer for UNICEF. I remember him coming to see me in Spring 2008, asking me if I could help prep him for an interview he had with CIMB. He was worried that his grades would downplay his chances against the straight-A students of his generation, so we discussed ways in which we play up his real achievements: achievements that mattered more in the bigger picture, achievements that spelt out potential and integrity and honesty and earnestness, of which he had in abundance and no academic transcript could ever paint. It turned out that CIMB preferred transcripts and he did not secure the position; but I always thought that it was CIMB’s loss because here was a young man with so much promise and vision that whoever it was he worked for, he would shine anyway.

And even in the short time between his graduation and his untimely demise, he shone. Friends spoke highly of him, his thoughtfulness and his intellectual maturity that would shame many older than him - present company included. A loss indeed to his family, his friends, his colleagues and dare I say it, his country that still sorely needs others like him.

My most sincere condolences to those who knew him better, and those who knew him best.