The world is
often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends.”
Anton Ego (Ratatouille)
In the first
year of my undergraduate study, I've told people that I want to work in a think
tank. For some reason, my words (and my results) are strong enough that I
managed to be employed in one. In my 4 years and 6 months there, I realised
that securing a dream job meant nothing if you are not welcomed as a part of
the tribe. Dr Mahani Zainal Abidin was the head of this tribe.
I’ve
encountered Dr Mahani at first as a student of Malaysian economy. Her book, “Rewriting
the Rules: The Malaysian Crisis Management Model” makes me realised how important
it is for economic lessons learned in class to be translated into clear
actions. Despite clear-cut solutions presented in the textbook, her book
presented a case where economic policymaking in an art, a process where the
outcome can be uncertain. The book was based on her experience as a member of
the Working Group for the National Economic Action Council (NEAC) in 1998 Asian
Financial and Economic Crisis (AFC). If any of you recall, the proudest moment
of the NEAC existence was when it convinced the nation that Malaysia can ride the
AFC without the help of international bodies like the IMF.
One of the
questions that she asked me during my job interview was, “why do you want to
work in ISIS?” My answer was because I’ve always wanted to work in a think
tank. I got my bubble burst few weeks after when my boss, Steven Wong makes
this remarks, “sometimes you like the food in a restaurant, then you work in the
restaurant’s kitchen and found out it was a messy process”. In this respect, I’ve
learned the importance of being coy. Coy-ness in this case is not a bad thing
but rather an advantage especially if you are dealing with multitude of
audiences, from politicians to the ordinary Pak Mat on the street. You need to
break down your point of view and messages in different forms and then start
the dissemination process that in the end, the person on the other side changed
their perspective and felt that it was driven by their own thinking. I admit I
never really mastered the process but I'm glad that I got to see it done by a master. I still don't know whether to call it coyness or Jedi-mind trick.
Formerly an
academician that worked in international trade and economics, Dr Mahani tried
her best to bring the world of academia and policymaking together. We worked
together on issues that required instant solutions and those that will be
important in the future. However in an institution that employed around 20
thinkers there’s only as much as this tribe can do. There are times even I felt
that an institution we could do more, but my youthful notions was always shut
down by hers. It took me awhile to realise that there is clear distinction
between throwing half-assed efforts in different directions and having focus on
a distinctive area. As an economist-to-be, you always get hammered with the
term trade-off but once it is in front of you, you freaked out. In a way, we
traded small multitudes of issues with a singular vision and dream. I wish I
learned this lesson earlier.
I’ve made a
lot of mistakes in ISIS and Dr Mahani was there to correct some of those
mistakes. I’m not joking; she even corrected my grammatical errors. She was
kind to the new. She took a lot of young researchers in and provides a lot of
avenue for us to interact and shaped each other views. She started the
tradition of yearly presentations where I bombed in most of my presentations. She
took a risk on a newbie like me, without a graduate degree, okay writing skills
and shaped me. She opened many doors for me, like when she’s written countless
of reference letters for my scholarship applications. I'm in Nottingham now due to
the last recommendation letter she wrote. We also undergo some adventures
together. I still can’t forget when she fearlessly took me gate-crashing an
event that we both don’t RSVP (the trick is to have enough clout and always act
like confidence). She also saved my skin when she bailed me out in Bangkok
after I got pickpocketed.
I'm gonna missed dropping by to her office around 6pm everyday and talked about small and big things. I'm gonna missed her laugh. Most importantly I'm gonna missed her tone of 'Izzatina' when I ticked her off.
I never get
to say my last goodbye, physically. I’m currently all alone, more than 10
thousands kilometres away in Nottingham. This essay is my chance to throw to the universe about my feelings on a friend and a mentor.
Goodbye.
Here’s my
favourite picture of us together.
Mahani, I wish you all the best in the afterlife.
