
Kelantan, home to approximately 1.9 million people, is consistently among the weakest contributors to Malaysia’s gross domestic product (GDP).
Those in the Klang Valley often view it as a failed state, but the Kelantanese say otherwise. To residents of the east coast state, mediocrity is preferable to what they describe as “dystopian modernity”.
While the Klang Valley chooses highways, the Kelantanese continue to dodge potholes. The cruel irony is that this condition is largely self-inflicted. Kelantan has settled for mediocrity.
Every year, the same recycled headline appears: “Kota Bharu Sentral will begin operations in …”. The years pass, the ground remains broken, and nothing changes. Analysts call it incompetence. Social media treats it as a joke. But the reality is simpler: the state government understands its audience.
They can delay the project election after election for one reason – the Kelantanese do not demand it.
The so-called temporary terminal at Lembah Sireh is the physical embodiment of “the Kelantan way”. Thousands of passengers board modern buses from a gravel lot, yet the destination remains firmly mediocre. It is baffling that some are content to call this home. This persistence is no accident. Mediocrity here is not merely circumstance; it is a choice.
Just as they accept a substandard bus terminal for convenience, they accept substandard wages in exchange for the illusion of a low cost of living. And technically, they are not wrong.
Data shows Kelantan is the cheapest state to live in. But this creates a devastating feedback loop. The cost of living is low only because median incomes are violently suppressed. Locally, all seems well for the 1.9 million souls who can buy breakfast for less than RM1.
But this economic isolation comes at a price.
The moment Kelantanese step outside their bubble, the mathematics collapses. A salary that feels comfortable in Pasir Mas becomes poverty-line income in Puchong.
They become economic prisoners of their own state, unable to afford the “dystopian modernity” they claim to despise. While their ringgit stretches far for a plate of rice, it shrinks instantly in the global market. An iPhone costs the same in Kota Bharu as it does in Kuala Lumpur, but for the Kelantanese, affording one is a struggle.
They have priced themselves out of the modern world, retaining the ability to survive while sacrificing the ability to thrive.
This produces a peculiar demographic phenomenon. Kelantanese are willing to migrate elsewhere to earn dignified wages, as long as prices remain low back home for their eventual return. The state has effectively become a sanctuary of cheap nostalgia.
The absurdity of this mindset is best illustrated by Sultan Ismail Petra Airport. It stands as one of the few pieces of modern infrastructure in the state that resembles the outside world.
The irony is crushing. This state-of-the-art facility exists primarily to facilitate the steady migration out of Kelantan. Locals take pride in the busy terminals, mistaking them for signs of vitality, when they are in fact witnessing a daily evacuation.
It must also be said that Kelantan is not resource-poor. It possesses timber, gold and newly discovered rare earth elements.
Yet with all this wealth, the state has chosen the least valuable method of extraction: logging.
Logging is undeniably profitable in the short term, but it represents the pinnacle of short-sighted thinking. Instead of investing in technology to sustainably extract high-value minerals, the state opts for the primitive simplicity of cutting down trees.
The land is stripped for quick cash, often triggering floods that erase whatever modest economic gains the people have made. It is the ultimate poverty mindset – selling the furniture to pay the rent.
At the end of the day, “the Kelantan way” may have worked so far, but it will only continue to work as long as the rest of Malaysia tolerates it.
For many Kelantanese, stagnation is acceptable as long as five pieces of pisang goreng cost RM1. It is a cruel joke, and the punchline is the 1.9 million people living it.
Irham Zulkernain hails from Kelantan and is a student of Applied English Language Studies at Universiti Poly-Tech Malaysia.
The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer and do not necessarily represent that of Twentytwo13.
