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By Mihar Dias September 2026
This morning, as my wife and I sat over breakfast, the news arrived quietly, almost gently, as sad news often does.
Tun Dr Hasmah Mohd Ali had passed away.
For a few moments, our breakfast table fell silent. The coffee grew cold. The toast remained untouched. We were not talking about a former First Lady of Malaysia, nor the wife of a man who shaped much of modern Malaysia’s history.
We were talking about a gentle lady from old Alor Setar.
For those of us who grew up in Kedah in the 1960s, Mahathir and Hasmah were not yet the towering figures of national history. They were simply “Doktor Mahathir” and “Doktor Hasmah” at the MAHA Clinic, serving ordinary people in an ordinary town where everybody seemed to know everybody else.
We were boys then, cycling through the streets of Alor Setar, studying at Sultan Abdul Hamid College, dreaming dreams too large for our school uniforms. Somewhere in that landscape of old Kedah—the rows of shophouses, Pekan Rabu, the bicycles, the rain trees—there stood the MAHA Clinic, where two young doctors quietly did their work.
History would later place Tun Dr Mahathir on the grand stage of nations. But Tun Hasmah remained, in the eyes of many Malaysians, something rarer and perhaps more enduring: a gracious presence who understood that influence does not always require noise.
For decades, she stood faithfully beside her husband through triumphs, controversies, victories and defeats. Yet she never seemed to seek the limelight for herself. She carried out her duties with dignity, compassion and remarkable restraint.
In an age when many believe that power must be displayed to be felt, Tun Hasmah showed another way. She proved that strength can be gentle, loyalty can be quiet, and service can be offered without fanfare.
My last memory of her is not from a grand state function or a glittering ceremony.
It was on April 16 this year.
She came to visit an old friend—Pak Ya, Zakaria, my schoolmate from Sultan Abdul Hamid College—who had just undergone spinal and neck surgery.
And she did something that only Tun Hasmah would think of doing.
She brought along her violin.
Imagine that scene.
A distinguished lady at hundred, carrying a violin, not for a concert hall, not for television cameras, but to cheer up an old friend recovering from illness.
There, in that simple act, lay the essence of Tun Hasmah.
Compassion without publicity.
Kindness without announcement.
Friendship without calculation.
Many people will remember Tun Hasmah as Malaysia’s longest-serving spouse of a Prime Minister. Historians will write about her place in the nation’s story.
But some of us will remember something else.
We will remember a doctor from Alor Setar.
We will remember a wife who stood steadfastly beside her husband for more than seven decades.
We will remember a lady whose warmth survived fame, power and history itself.
And I will remember, above all, a woman carrying a violin to bring comfort to a sick friend.
As the news settled over our breakfast table this morning, I realised that an era had quietly come to an end.
The old Alor Setar of our youth is fading now.
The familiar faces are leaving one by one.
The voices that shaped our memories are becoming echoes.
But perhaps, somewhere beyond our sight, the lady with the violin is still playing a gentle melody—one of kindness, loyalty and grace—for old friends gathered once again.
Rest in peace, Tun Hasmah.
Malaysia mourns a national figure.
Malaysia mourns one of its finest daughters.
And those of us who knew her, even from a distance, mourn a gentle soul who made goodness look effortless.
Mihar Dias (mihardias@gmail.com) is a content creator under the Newswav Creator programme, where you get to express yourself, be a citizen journalist, and at the same time monetize your content & reach millions of users on Newswav. Log in to creator.newswav.com and become a Newswav Creator now!
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