Malaysia’s ‘dropout.com’

MySkills gives lost teens hope and chance to upskill Aerial view of MySkills’ 34-acre Kalumpang campus THE blue-suited “construction bro” with a designer goatee couldn’t be more certain of his future despite the recession in Australia’s building industry. Hearing his optimism and accent, it was hard to believe the brief I’d been given on him: Dropped out of Ipoh’s Tasek school when he was 15; barely spoke English at that time; placed in a shelter later that he nearly ran away from. Now aged 29, Satishwaran Marimuthu is a picture of wellness and hope.

It’s an image that could convince any teen who currently finds life impossible that there’s every chance of making it good eventually. Stories like Satish’s — and of lost teens in recovery mode — is what the MySkills Foundation in Malaysia hopes to see more of. A non-profit backed by the likes of Wall Street bank JPMorgan, Houston energy tech company Baker Hughes and British universal bank HSBC, MySkills is dedicated to sheltering, rehabilitating and upskilling those at-risk to — or already immersed in — gangsterism, alcoholism, drug abuse and many of the other ills increasingly common with the young of today.



At MySkills’ 34-acre campus in Kalumpang, near Tanjung Malim, teens in recovery learn multiple hard skills like electrical wiring, welding, plumbing, air-conditioning works, corporate secretarial work, caregiving for the sick and elderly, farming, baking and pastry making. The afternoon I visited, three boys who were testing the prototype of a solar bicycle built from scratch (left). Soft skills like personal finance and savings, time management and the importance of self-awareness, emotional control and responsible decision-making are taught as well.

Separate dorms for the boys and girls, along with a sprawling field for football and other outdoor sports, a gym and indoor games room and a multi-faith prayer hall and surau complete the accommodation and work-life balance. What struck me was that almost everyone housed here had dropped out of school early, some not even completing a year of secondary education. Call it Malaysia’s ‘dropout.

com’. There’s good reason for capturing them young, says Devasharma Gangadaran (left), CEO for MySkills. “The dropout demographic is the one criminal operators have the best grip on,” explains Deva.

“They give these kids a sense of belonging that schools and society did not. Once they are in the clutches of these gangs, it’s really hard for them to leave. They need another so-called sanctuary to compensate for that.

That’s what we are.” Not unique, but different What MySkills is doing isn’t unique to Malaysia. The country has over 1,000 TVET institutions — i.

e. Technical and Vocational Education and Training centres that prepare young people with knowledge and skills needed for the working world. More than 500 of them are public institutions like polytechnics, community colleges, vocational colleges and other higher learning institutions that together accommodate about 230,000 students annually.

Long before many of these were founded was the Monfort Boys Town, which blossomed from a place where one could learn to repair cars in the 1960s to a mini city today that teaches graphic design and multimedia programs alongside baking, hospitality and electrical- and facilities-maintenance courses. Over 7,500 deserving youth enrol yearly to the Montfort. What makes MySkills different, though, is the way it's run, like a world-class non-profit.

With global brands such as JPMorgan, Baker Hughes and HSBC embedded into its ecosystem — and support from other big name sponsors like oil supermajor BP, enterprise solutions provider SAP and Khazanah Nasional’s Yayasan Hasanah — MySkills operates on a different level compared to its many Malaysian peers, covering 70% of its operating cost from corporate sponsorship alone. It wasn’t always like this, though. MySkills started at a modest shop-lot in Puchong in 2010, before relocating to a more comfortable location in Port Klang in 2013.

But as it prepared for its big Kalumpang move — a dream long harboured by chairman Dr. M Shanmuga Siva and co-founder Pasupathi Sithamparam — misfortune struck. A change in government after the 2018 election abruptly slashed 40% of federal funding for the foundation.

JPMorgan, whom Deva had been courting even before the campus was built, swooped in as the white knight, offering to cover 15% of operating costs over a two-year period. That still left MySkills and its programs vulnerable to financial shocks that would follow through the Covid-19 years. Deva tried to keep things moving by filling the gap with other sponsors.

He also kept JPMorgan on his speed dial — a wise move as the Wall Street giant funded MySkills again in 2020, tentatively agreeing to a four-year round next. Value beyond money While money might seem to be the most vital thing to any philanthropic movement, the real value for MySkills in having international partners is the progress it has seen in various KPI for the industry. In 2023, MySkills was ranked 14th in a “Transparency Score of Malaysia’s Foundations” carried out by Wiki Impact.

A total of 1,710 foundations were screened in that. MySkills’ transparency score also jumped to 95% from a previous 90%. Since 2010, MySkills has also secured job placements for the 3,000 young people it had taken in, with the balance 5% continuing SPM, SKM Level 3 and Diploma studies.

Even overseas, what was learned at MySkills seems to be in demand. Australia’s construction business might be going through a major crunch but trained hands like New South Wales-residing Satish (below) might continue finding work because of “persistent skills shortages”, Infrastructure Australia says in a report. Besides encouraging employment numbers and KPIs, Deva and his team have gained invaluable lessons and meaningful relationships from the corporations supporting them.

JPMorgan, for instance, is teaching him to crunch six months of fund-raising work into two pages to satisfy its compliance unit. To Deva, that’s self-development coaching. Baker Hughes, which runs a social sustainability program in Singapore — and operates a finance hub in Malaysia that employs some 700 people — is regularly in Kalumpang, volunteering many hours to multiple initiatives there.

On the afternoon of my visit, the regional unit of the Houston firm was at the campus with an Australian crew (above) brought in to shoot the moringa harvest and collection activity at MySkills for a Baker Hughes video on sustainability. “What you see here are best practices and examples you’d see anywhere,” says Adeline Teo, who serves as Baker Hughes’ communications lead for Asia Pacific in Singapore. “They have farming for the vegetables, and the students are cooking for the students.

The air-con is repaired by the students, and the electricity comes from solar panels also maintained by the students. To think they all came from broken homes, and now they are fully maintaining this home by themselves.” But humans are humans, and one can’t be merry all the time — something the counsellors at MySkills are too well aware of.

Thus, along with a “gratitude journal” that the inmates are asked to write before going to bed each night, there’s a “frustration box” too, says Malathi Karuppiah, who serves as administration manager. “This allows them to vent when they want.” There is also an “open philosophy” around the whole place.

“Anyone is free to leave at any time,” says Deva. “There are no cameras, security guards or padlocks to stop them. We want those who come here to appreciate what we’re giving.

But we want that to come from within. What’s the point of bringing international partners to work for your upliftment, when you won’t even show commitment by staying?” Will those kids run away? That’s the question I was asking myself as I sat to interview five of them at Kalumpang. Habibul — “call me Bul”, he said — came to the campus as a senior student to learn electrical wiring when he was 19 and has stayed four years since, becoming what MySkills calls an “intern”, or staff.

“This place has really been an enabling environment for me,” the 23-year-old said in flawless English, adding that he was also regarded “big brother” by the younger ones there. John, the 16-year-old resident chef at the campus and baker of the super delicious pound cake I had for breakfast, says he’s so busy at the cafeteria that he can’t make plans for anything outside of Kalumpang now. “I used to be addicted to the phone; that’s why my Mom brought me here.

Now, I don’t even have time to chat on the phone,” he said, grinning. Priyashini, 17, has been learning corporate secretarial work but says she’s also fascinated with AI. “I know the best path for me is to be here and learn programming as well, so that I can go fully into IT.

” Vakesh, who admitted to experimenting with banned substances before coming to Kalumpang, says all he could think of now was the papaya lot at the campus that had been placed in his care. “I found it rather difficult managing it at first,” said the 19-year-old who’s spent six years at MySkills. “But as the days went by, I fell in love with the papaya lot.

The real moment for me was harvesting the papayas I had grown and selling them with my own hands.” Fourteen-year-old Akkaashwar appreciates the open philosophy at Kalumpang that Deva spoke of, saying it was a sign of mutual respect between the elders and younger ones at the campus. “We earn a modest monthly allowance for the work we do and I like that I can use that money to go out for a day of fun in the city.

” As I reviewed their answers, the consensus was clear: All these kids really loved this place. As I was leaving, to my delight, I was handed a mug, digitally printed with the image of a smiling me captured earlier in the day. "The next time you come, you might get chocolates," Jeeva Nadaraju, one of the volunteers, told me as I got into the car.

"The plan is to make them right here." I'm going back for that, if not anything else!.