Have you ever felt like you don’t belong anywhere – no matter how hard you try? I know that feeling well too. I’m Ika, an Indonesian girl born and raised here. As an immigrant daughter in Malaysia, I live between two worlds – my parents’ sacrifices and my own struggles.
Their journey was filled with hardship, while I faced my own battles trying to belong. But those experiences became the foundation of who I am today – my identity, my education, and my fight to belong.
My parents: My biggest motivation
Since I was little, I watched my parents work harder than anyone I know. They left their homeland young, strong and determined, ready to face endless hours of hard labour and daily discrimination. All for one reason: so, I could live a better life.
Being an immigrant’s daughter means you inherit dreams that were too heavy for your parents to carry alone.
Ayah and Mak grew up in poverty and hunger but never once gave up on life. They’ve always been my biggest inspiration.
Even with their tough lives, they never stopped putting my education first. Mak taught me my ABCs, not a teacher. Ayah introduced me to Islamic teaching first, not an ‘Ustazah’. No matter how exhausted they were, they always made time for me.
Ayah and Mak used to tell me, ‘’To be educated is your only way to live”. That’s how much they value education.
The struggles behind my success
Growing up, I saw their sacrifices every day. So failure never felt like an option. I studied hard because I wanted to make my parents proud and repay their efforts.
Every A I earned remind me of their hard work in raising me. Every time I stood on stage, I thought of their tired yet proud smiles. My medals aren’t just mine. They’re proof of everything my parents have given up for my success.
Every A I earned reminded me of my parents’ sacrifices. My medals aren’t just mine — they’re proof of everything they’ve given up for me.
But here’s a truth I rarely say out loud:
No matter how good my results were, I am still ‘different’.
Growing up an immigrant daughter in Malaysia isn’t easy. I don’t have a Malaysian Identity Card. So when my friends applied for top schools and scholarships, I stayed quiet. People would ask, “Did you apply yet for university?” as if I had the same choice.
That’s when it hit me. Sometimes, hard work doesn’t fail because of you. It fails because of the system.
My breaking point
I remember the day I opened yet another rejection email. I didn’t cry, not immediately. I just stared at the screen, feeling that familiar ache of disappointment.
I thought about my parents – their tired faces, their quiet hopes – and wondered if I’d failed them. For a moment, I believed that my achievements meant nothing. I almost accepted that I was destined to be just an “immigrant daughter” who would never belong.
But something in me refused to give up.
I remembered my parents’ words: “We didn’t cross oceans for you to stop swimming.”
So, I didn’t.
What I’ve learned from life challenges
Someone once told me, “You’re living someone else’s dream”. And they were right.
To be able to study, to learn and to chase knowledge freely without fear – those are privileges not everyone has.
Being different as an immigrant daughter in Malaysia doesn’t make me less. It makes me who I am. My identity, my roots, my parents’ struggles – they’re all part of me. Each one of us carries differences, and that’s exactly what makes each of us unique.
And maybe, that’s my purpose:
To be proof that borders and papers can never define a person’s worth or intelligence.
Hopeful reminder to all students
Education isn’t about getting perfect As. It’s about proving to ourselves that no matter where we come from, nothing can stop us from learning and growing.
Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world. – Nelson Mandela
I’ve learnt that as an immigrant daughter, my journey might be harder and my path longer, but my steps are still valid. I’ll fight and dream anyway.
To anyone thinking of giving up – don’t. Remember, someone out there is dreaming of the opportunities we already have. Don’t waste it. Our struggles don’t define our ending. Instead, let them shape our strength.
This isn’t just my diary as an immigrant daughter in Malaysia. It’s my reminder – to you, and to myself – that as long as we keep learning, we’re already winning. No matter who we are.
Because maybe, being an immigrant daughter isn’t my limitation. It’s my superpower.
READ >> Migrant and refugee children in Malaysia: Forgotten or ignored?
