Columnist argues Malaysia needs a dedicated Animal Welfare Ministry to enforce laws and teach empathy
SAY “Animal Welfare Ministry” in Malaysia and watch someone choke on their keropok. “A ministry for cats, ah?” they snort, as if you’ve just proposed giving stray dogs MyKad numbers.
But give it five minutes – they’ll be on Facebook sharing videos of abused strays and typing, “So sad. What is happening to our society?”
Adoi. The irony smells stronger than durian in an elevator.
And for those who still think it’s a joke, here’s a reality check: theSun has plastered this very matter on the front page recently. Front page, my darlings! That’s not just news; that’s a spotlight saying, “Wake up, Malaysia – our empathy is in peril.” If even the national press thinks it’s urgent, maybe it’s time some people stop sniggering over their kopi O.
Compassion isn’t optional
You see, it’s very simple: If a nation cannot take care of its animals, how can it possibly take care of its people? Compassion isn’t selective, darling – you can’t pat the humans and kick the cats under the table.
We call ourselves madani – polished, progressive, compassionate. But walk around long enough, and you’ll see our version of compassion: kittens dumped in boxes behind shops, dogs limping from kicks and cows tied in the sun like forgotten props in an outdated kampung drama.
When someone films it, we scream “Viral! Justice!” for two days, and then … we move on. Until the next sad video. Malaysia’s empathy has the attention span of a TikTok scroll.
Here’s the thing – the current setup tries, bless their hearts. The Veterinary Services Department does what it can, juggling animal welfare, food safety and every cow that sneezes. But what they need is a dedicated unit – a real ministry or department that treats animal welfare not as a cute side hustle but a proper portfolio. Because right now, the poor officers are expected to stop rabies outbreaks in the morning and inspect slaughterhouses by lunch. Even the cows are confused.
Kedai kopi logic: eye rolls included
Of course, the moment someone brings up “Animal Welfare Ministry”, the uncles at the kedai kopi start their usual show.
“Eh, you think we got no other problems ah? People also susah already!”
Yes, Uncle. That’s exactly the point. The way we treat animals shows how we treat people. You cannot run a country on selective compassion – one for humans, none for the furry ones. It doesn’t work like that, boss.
Empathy is like nasi lemak sambal – either you have it, or you don’t.
Priorities, they say. Of course – we can spend millions on projects no one asked for, but when it comes to creatures who can’t speak for themselves, suddenly the wallet goes missing. Selective kindness is still cruelty, darling.
Let’s imagine it for a second. The Ministry of Animal Affairs:
has an enforcement arm that actually fines and jails abusers (not just politely “advises”);
works with schools to teach empathy;
coordinates sterilisation and adoption drives with NGOs so we don’t keep hearing “cull them all!” from lazy councils; and
builds actual shelters instead of dumping grounds with barbed wire.
Now that’s how you start building a civilised society – one policy at a time, one rescued soul at a time.
And don’t roll your eyes, please. Other countries already do this. Thailand, for instance, has laws with real bite. In Singapore, you so much as raise your hand to a cat, and suddenly there’s an investigation, press statement and probably your mother calling you in shame. Here? We get a viral video, two days of outrage, then silence. The stray disappears, and so does our conscience.
Why we really need it
Maybe that’s why we need a whole ministry or at least a department – not because animals are more important than humans, but because we clearly need a structured reminder on how to be decent. We Malaysians love slogans – “Sayangi Malaysiaku”, “Keluarga Malaysia”, “Madani Malaysia” – but the stray dog scavenging behind your house didn’t get that memo.
Support the unsung hero
And can we talk about those who say, “Oh, just let the NGOs handle it lah”? Please. These people – the rescuers, feeders, volunteers – are unpaid, over-caffeinated heroes with more fur than sleep.
They use their own money, their own car and half their sanity to clean up the mess society leaves behind. The least we can do is back them up with laws and funding instead of throwing them a “thank you post” once a year.
Imagine a Malaysia where animal cruelty cases are handled swiftly, not buried under red tape.
Where adoption is celebrated, not whispered like some guilty secret. Where compassion isn’t laughed off as “Western nonsense.” That’s not a fantasy – that’s what a mature society looks like.
The moral mirror: It’s about us too
Because, sayang, at the end of the day, it’s not about cats or cows or monkeys – it’s about us. The heart that turns away from a hungry stray will one day turn away from a hungry child. The same coldness, just a different target.
So laugh if you must. Make your jokes about “Ministry of Meow-Meow” or “Department of Bark and Moo.” But while you’re laughing, just remember: the animals you ignore are the mirror of your humanity. And right now, that reflection looks a bit distorted, don’t you think?
So yes, Makcik says: Give me the ministry. Build it, staff it, empower it. Let it be the one department that reminds Malaysians that kindness isn’t just for photo ops. Because if we can’t even care for those who can’t speak, maybe it’s time we admit – we’re the ones who’ve gone feral.
Makcik’s mic drop: Psst, policymakers
Now listen here, my darlings in Putrajaya – I know some of you will say, “Alaa, Makcik ni sentimental lah.” Maybe so. But while you’re busy launching slogans and selfies, just remember: Empathy doesn’t come with your ministerial car. It comes from the heart – the same one that should ache a little when you see a stray limping across the road.
So go ahead, form your committees, debate your budgets, polish your manifestos. But until Malaysia learns to sayang its animals without needing applause, we’re still just talking, not feeling.
And when that day comes – when compassion is policy, not PR – you’ll find Makcik here, sipping her kopi O, nodding proudly, saying: “Finally, the humans have caught up.”
Azura Abas is the associate editor of theSun. Comments: [email protected]
