Latest news with #Perakian
The Star
16-05-2025
- Health
- The Star
Beauty queen advocates for mental health awareness among marginalised youth
Saroop Roshi isn't just another beauty queen. The 27-year-old Miss Malaysia 2023 – who is now in Hyderabad, India, competing alongside 109 young women for the Miss World 2025 title – has turned her personal struggle into a lifelong mission to help children from marginalised communities. As Miss World Malaysia 2025, Saroop is using her platform to spark real, tangible change in mental health awareness, a cause deeply rooted in her own journey of loss, resilience and self-discovery. The fifth Perakian to win the title, Saroop's story begins in the small town of Langkap, Perak, where she spent her early years before moving to Ipoh, and eventually to Kuala Lumpur. Each chapter of her life has brought new challenges, but perhaps the most transformative moment came at 19, when she lost her father. 'After my father passed away, I went through a very rough phase,' she shares. 'I experienced depression and felt utterly alone. 'Coming out of that was a huge challenge and it made me realise the importance of mental health awareness, especially in Malaysia, where this topic is still taboo in many communities,' she says. In 2019, Saroop founded Unmask Yourself, a mental health NGO aimed at breaking the silence around suicide and mental health challenges. Her journey set her on a path of self-discovery. Once a shy girl afraid to speak in front of others, she has since emerged with a newfound sense of purpose. Saroop also shifted her academic focus from medicine to psychology, determined to understand the human mind and help others navigate their darkest moments. 'Previously, I wanted to be a doctor but my experiences made me decide to become a psychologist. Going through life's challenges made me realise the importance of mental health awareness and education, and this led to me finding my calling in life.' Saroop helps marginalised children develop the necessary EQ skills to deal with issues such as bullying. Photo: Saroop Roshi Not only did Saroop's experiences shape her career path, they also inspired her to start her own organisation. In 2019, she founded Unmask Yourself, a mental health non-governmental organisation (NGO) aimed at breaking the silence around suicide and mental health challenges. This initiative grew out of her personal struggles and a deep desire to prevent others from feeling the same hopelessness and isolation she once endured. 'The reason I started Unmask Yourself is so that nobody would feel the despair and desolation I once felt,' Saroop explains. 'But over the years, I realised that merely talking about mental health wasn't enough. What was needed was action to create tangible change.' Working with a group of clinical psychologists, Saroop started providing free mental health screening for marginalised communities where support is often inaccessible. She quickly expanded these screening services to include group therapy and art therapy sessions for at-risk youth living with issues like poverty, abuse and harassment, which often lead to them dropping out of school. One particularly moving encounter involved a young girl who, during an early art therapy session, scrawled the words 'Die, die, die' on her paper. But a month later, the same girl told Saroop, 'Aka (big sister), whatever you're doing now, I hope that one day, I can do the same to help others too.' Moments like these have reinforced Saroop's belief in the power of human connection and the ripple effect of small acts of kindness. Saroop says her book, 'Let's Unmask Our Minds With Ronnie The Horse', teaches children about emotional intelligence. Photo: Saroop Roshi Understanding that awareness alone isn't enough, Saroop sought to equip young people with concrete skills for emotional resilience. To do this, she collaborated with Dr Eugene Tee, an associate professor at a local private university, to produce her book, Let's Unmask Our Minds With Ronnie The Horse , designed to teach emotional intelligence. Written in a simple, story-based format, the book has been a vital tool in her outreach efforts, helping children from marginalised communities learn to cope with their emotions and handle life's challenges. 'The impact of helping these young ones is invaluable. They develop the necessary emotional skills to deal with issues that crop up in their day-to-day lives, such as bullying. 'I'm encouraged by the positive outcomes. There are some who once wanted to give up on life but are now thriving, helping their parents or pursuing higher education.' That is what real, tangible change looks like, notes Saroop, whose community work has impacted over 2,500 young people around the country. But her efforts extend far beyond the children's shelters and public housing (PPR) communities she has helped. She has also harnessed the power of social media, reaching over half a million people globally, sharing her story and advocating for mental health awareness. 'Social media is an important platform for advocacy. I've done multiple collaborations, and my strategy is to be myself,' she says. 'People can see my modelling jobs and the glamour that comes with it, but I also show the world the real me. 'I believe that speaking openly about my struggles humanises me, showing that this isn't just a story about a beauty queen, but someone who has overcome real challenges.' This transparency has been a cornerstone of her advocacy, breaking down the barriers that often prevent open conversations about mental health. 'According to the World Health Organisation (as of March 2025), more than 720,000 people die from suicide annually. Suicide is the third leading cause of death among 15- to 29-year-olds and 73% of global suicides occur in low- and middle-income countries. 'But I want to show people that no matter what life throws at you, you can get through it – and together as a community, we can provide the support that's needed.' Beauty pageants can be powerful tools for social impact, says Saroop. Photo: Saroop Roshi Not a newcomer to the pageant world, Saroop was first runner-up in Miss Grand Malaysia 2019 and in the Top 18 in Miss Universe Malaysia 2019 before winning the Miss Malaysia title in 2023. She believes these experiences have also shaped her. 'These pageants have built my confidence and resilience,' she says. 'They've given me the mindset to not give up.' As part of the Miss World competition, there is a multimedia challenge, says Saroop. 'This is one of the fast-track categories where contestants showcase their social media presence and creativity through platforms like TikTok, Instagram, Facebook and the Miss World app. 'The purpose is to highlight contestants' ability to engage with fans and demonstrate their social media savvy. The winner of the Multimedia Challenge is then fast-tracked to the top 20 contestants,' she explains. For Saroop, the Miss World Malaysia title is not just a milestone but a starting point. The psychology graduate aims to pursue a master's degree in psychology and eventually open her own mental health clinic one day. As she represents Malaysia on the Miss World stage, Saroop also hopes to redefine what it means to wear a crown. 'Beauty pageants can be powerful tools for social impact. We're living in a world where even though women empowerment is happening, there are still women who struggle to be heard.' To aspiring beauty queens, her advice is: 'Never let difficulties define you. Every scar is like a star that guides you forward. 'This is your time to shine.' Those contemplating suicide can reach out to the Mental Health Psychosocial Support Service (03-2935 9935/014-322 3392); Talian Kasih (15999/019-261 5999 on WhatsApp); Jakim's Family, Social and Community Care Centre (011-1959 8214 on WhatsApp); or Befrienders Kuala Lumpur (03-7627 2929/Email sam@ centres in Malaysia).
New Straits Times
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New Straits Times
This mother rose from depression to sew hope for sick children
AT first glance, it's just a doll — a small, unassuming albeit cute animal creation made of socks, buttons for eyes and a stitched-on smile. But to Cordelia Lee Suet Fun, or Cordy as she's fondly known, each doll carries a heartbeat, a memory, and a story stitched into its seams. Behind every thread lies a piece of her — a mother's love, a woman's resilience and a soul that, despite being weathered by life's tempests, still radiates warmth and light. "I never imagined my life would take this path," begins the 53-year-old, voice soft, edged with memory. Adding, she declares: "But I believe our experiences shape us. And somehow, the pain I carried led me to this place — to making these little dolls, to singing, speaking and teaching others how to find peace within themselves." LIFE'S ROLLER COASTER Cordy's story is one of transformation born from trials. A mother of one, she grew up in Ipoh, Perak, before moving to Kuala Lumpur at the age of 11. Her journey began in law school, culminating in a degree that would eventually gather dust, sidelined by life's unpredictable turns. After graduating in 1997, Cordy felt completely burnt out from years of studying. The thought of sitting for the Certificate of Legal Practice (CLP), notorious for being difficult to pass, felt overwhelming. "I remember thinking, what the heck — I already have my degree. I'll just put it aside for now," she recalls with a small laugh, adding: "If one day I feel like practicing law, I'll take it out then." Eager to experience life beyond textbooks and lecture halls, Cordy landed a job at Time Wireless, where a kind assistant manager took a chance on her. "She told me, 'We're starting something new under Risk Management — you've got a law degree, come in and see what happens.'" The bubbly Perakian jumped at the opportunity and stayed with the company for a few years. But eventually, as corporate restructurings took their toll, Cordy began to feel adrift. At her father's suggestion, she joined his IT business, taking on administrative and banking responsibilities. But beneath the steady rhythm of office life, storms were quietly brewing. In her late 30s, Cordy faced a series of personal upheavals — a marriage that unravelled, the unbearable grief of infertility, and a growing sense of emptiness. "I desperately wanted to be a mother," she confides softly, adding: "We tried IVF, but it was financially and emotionally draining. In the end, I had to let go of that dream. And it broke something inside me." Years of bottling up her emotions came to a head. "I couldn't control it anymore. I felt chaotic, hopeless. I had insomnia, and my mind was a constant storm of overthinking." It was then, amid the debris of her spirit, that Cordy stumbled upon meditation. Nothing elaborate — just simple, non-religious breathing exercises. But those few moments of stillness each day became her anchor. Recalls Cordy: "I started with just five minutes a day. And it worked. It was like magic. I felt calmer. My mind stopped racing. I started reclaiming my life, bit by bit." Soon, friends noticed the difference. One asked her what she was doing. "I told her about the meditation, and she wanted to try it too. It snowballed from there. A few of us began practising together casually," shares Cordy. As her inner world transformed, the people around her noticed too. Friends began asking what she was doing differently. "One of them told me, 'You're so much calmer now. The way you carry yourself, the way you talk — it's different.'" Curious, a few of them asked to try the technique with her. The small gatherings grew into a comforting space where friends sought solace from their own anxieties. One of them even predicted, "I believe one day you'll teach this professionally." Cordy laughed it off at the time. "It felt so out of my league. I thought, for myself and friends, sure — but as an instructor? Never crossed my mind." But life, as she would come to learn, has its own plans. By 2010, the idea no longer felt far-fetched. Cordy saw the significant impact these simple breathing and relaxation methods had on people. The positive feedback encouraged her to keep going. Today, she humbly refers to herself as a non-religious meditation teacher — someone who helps others reconnect with themselves, de-stress and regain a sense of calm in a noisy world. It was during these years of healing that another act of quiet kindness would unexpectedly shape her journey. One day, a close friend reached out to tell Cordy that their mutual friend, Pei Lee, had fallen terribly sick. "'She's paralysed now… and she wants to see us,' my friend had told me. So, we decided to visit her. I remember how sad I felt when I clapped eyes on her. She looked really frail. It hurt because I didn't expect to see her like that." Their ensuing conversation felt heavy, and words simply seemed inadequate in the face of such helplessness. Then, Cordy suddenly remembered something — a small doll she'd made, resting quietly in her bag. Eyes lighting up, she shares: "I quickly took it out and showed it to her. I said, 'Hey, just to let you know… I made this. What do you think?'" It was a rabbit doll — far from perfect, its stitches uneven, its features simple. But Pei Lee's reaction was immediate. "She touched it, and she smiled," recalls Cordy, before adding softly: "It was the first time I saw her smile since I arrived." That fleeting moment shifted something inside her. An idea sparked. Remembers Cordy: "I asked her, 'Would you like me to make a doll for you? A dog… a cat?' And she thought about it, then replied, 'I'd like a dog.'" Cordy chuckles as she recounts what came next. "I told her, 'Can you wait for me? I haven't learned how to make a dog yet'. She laughed and said, 'It's okay. Take your time'." Determined to fulfil that promise, Cordy returned to the same shop where she'd first learned to make sock dolls. "I signed up for a three-class package," she shares, shaking her head with a smile. "I was so nervous. I had no idea how to make a dog." The second doll she created was meant to resemble Snoopy. But it didn't quite turn out that way. "I remember being so embarrassed. The ears were lopsided, the whole thing was senget," she recalls with a grin, before adding: "I stood there thinking, should I even give this to her? It looked terrible." But a promise was a promise. Shares Cordy: "I brought it to her anyway. And the moment I handed it over, I started apologising. 'The eyes are a bit off… the ears are uneven — sorry ah, not so nice.'" But Pei Lee didn't seem to mind. She held the Snoopy doll, touched its head and smiled — that same quiet, gentle smile that Cordy had seen before. Continuing, Cordy says softly: "That moment… it meant something. It made me realise it wasn't about how perfect the doll looked. It was about the feeling it gave." Encouraged by that, Cordy promised Pei Lee another creation. "'Okay,' I told her, 'Next one, I'll be learning how to make a cat. You wait for me, okay?' And she laughed, saying, 'Sure. I'm not going anywhere.'" Cordy managed to complete the cat doll too, but by then, Pei Lee's health had deteriorated. "I couldn't meet her, so my friend passed it to her for me," she recalls quietly, adding: "And not long after that — about six months later — she passed away." Her passing left an ache in Cordy's heart, but more than anything, it left an important lesson. Eyes alight, she says: "I remembered the impact of those dolls. That a simple, handmade thing, created with love, could bring such comfort. It made me think — a doll isn't just a toy. It can be a companion. A friend. A silent source of solace." A NEW WORLD Then came another seismic shift: her son. In 2015, Cordy gave birth to her long-awaited child from her marriage with her second husband. But joy was quickly tempered by fear. Her son, Patrick, a delicate, bright-eyed baby, was born with biliary atresia, a rare liver disease. At just 1.5 months old, he underwent a Kasai procedure, a surgery to delay liver deterioration. The journey was fraught with uncertainty, hospital visits and emotional turmoil. "I remember crying myself to sleep every night," recalls Cordy, adding solemnly: "The fear of losing him was overwhelming. No mother is ever prepared for that. You carry a child for nine months, dreaming of a future. And then, you're told he's sick. It breaks you." Despite the challenges, Cordy found strength in small moments of joy. She employed simple coping methods like singing and reading to Patrick, using body language to communicate love and encouragement when words failed. During her son's hospital stays, Cordy noticed the comfort he derived from soft toys gifted by kind individuals. These toys became his companions, providing emotional support and a sense of normalcy amidst the clinical environment. Inspired by the impact the toys had on her son, Cordy decided that she'd make the sock dolls for her son during her long waits by his bedside each time he went to the hospital for tests. "When I started making for my son, I also made for the kids in the ward. I wanted to create something that could bring the same comfort to the other sick children." Since 2018, Cordy has been crafting animal-themed sock dolls and gifting them to hospitalised children. Each doll is made with love, representing a symbol of hope and resilience. Patrick, now 8 years old and thriving despite being neurodivergent with dyslexia and ADHD, often accompanies his mother on these hospital visits. Dressed in his favourite Spider-Man costume, he hands out the dolls, spreading smiles and joy. Shares Cordy: "Seeing the children's faces light up when they receive a doll is the most rewarding experience. It's a reminder that even small acts of kindness can make a big difference." Her son, now an avid runner, she confides proudly, remains her greatest teacher. Shares Cordy: "He's taught me resilience, patience, and the beauty of simple joys. When I see him smile, everything else fades away." Today, Cordy's life is a beautiful mosaic of roles — motivational speaker, singer-songwriter under Jingles Management, non-religious meditation teacher and sock doll maker. Through every medium, she channels one core mission: to uplift. "I use my voice, my hands and my heart to remind people they're not alone," she says, adding: "We all carry burdens. But we can turn them into something beautiful." Asked what keeps her moving forward, Cordy's gaze softens. "Maybe it's stubbornness," she laughs quietly, before adding softly: "Maybe it's hope. But I believe in turning pain into purpose. Life might not go as planned, but it can still be meaningful. Sometimes, the unplanned paths lead us to where we truly belong." As our conversation winds down, Cordy picks up one of her sock dolls that she'd been working on before I arrived. Its button eyes gleam softly under the café's bright downlight, its stitched smile somewhat poignant. "I always say," Cordy concludes, voice thick with emotion, "When you can't find the light, be the light. And sometimes, even a little sock doll can be that light."
