Tag: mental-health

Why Quiet Years Often Matter More Than Busy Ones

Some years shout.

They announce themselves with launches, awards, headlines, travel photos, packed calendars, and endless updates. They feel loud even before they are over.

Then some years barely whisper.

No fireworks. No dramatic milestones to post about. No big celebration dinners. Just long days, repetitive work, silent thinking, and a calendar that looks strangely empty from the outside.

For a long time, I feared those quiet years.

Am I falling behind?
Why does it feel like everyone else is moving faster?
Did I miss something important?

Only later did I realise something that changed how I look at time, work, and progress.

Quiet years often matter more than busy ones.

Not in obvious ways. Not in ways that attract applause. But in ways that shape everything that comes after.

Let me explain.

The Illusion of Busy Years

Busy years are addictive.

They make you feel relevant. Needed. In demand. Every week is filled with meetings, events, decisions, and quick wins. You move from one task to another with momentum. There is little time to question direction because speed itself feels like purpose.

I have lived through those years.

There were times when my calendar looked impressive. Meetings stacked back-to-back. Travel plans every month. Panels, talks, deadlines, emails at midnight. From the outside, it looked like progress.

Inside, something else was happening.

Thinking time disappeared.

Reflection became a luxury. Decisions were made reactively. You respond more than you choose. You move fast, but you are not always sure where you are heading.

This feels productive, I used to tell myself.
At least things are happening.

Busy years reward motion. Quiet years demand clarity.

What Quiet Years Feel Like

Quiet years feel uncomfortable at first.

Fewer external signals are telling you that you are doing well. Fewer invitations. Fewer people are checking in. Less validation. Your work becomes less visible and more internal.

Most of the effort goes into things that do not translate into instant results.

Reading.
Thinking.
Fixing fundamentals.
Rewriting plans.
Building systems that nobody sees yet.

You spend more time alone with your thoughts than with applause.

I remember sitting in the office late one evening during one of those quiet stretches. No urgent calls. No deadlines screaming for attention. Just me, a notebook, and an uneasy feeling.

Is this stagnation? I asked myself.
Or is this preparation?

That question stayed with me.

Quiet Years Are When Foundations Are Rebuilt

When everything is loud, you rarely touch the foundations. You are too busy adding floors.

Quiet years force you to look down instead of up.

You start noticing cracks you ignored before. Processes that no longer make sense. Assumptions that worked five years ago but feel wrong today. Goals that were inherited rather than chosen.

During quiet periods, I found myself revisiting basic questions:

Why are we building this?
Who are we really serving?
What should we stop doing?
What must work even when attention disappears?

These are not questions you answer in between meetings. They need space.

Quiet years give you that space.

They allow you to rebuild without pressure to perform for an audience. You can redesign systems, rethink direction, and strengthen weak links while nobody is watching.

By the time noise returns, the structure is already stronger.

The Invisible Compounding Effect

One of the hardest things about quiet years is that progress becomes invisible.

There is effort, but little evidence. Work is happening, but outcomes lag behind. You plant seeds without knowing which ones will grow.

This is where many people quit.

They mistake silence for failure. They assume that if nothing is visible, nothing is working.

I have learned that quiet years often hide compounding effects.

Writing without immediate readers.
Building products before the market is ready.
Training people who will only show results years later.
Documenting processes that will save time long after you forget writing them.

None of these produces instant feedback.

Yet, when momentum finally arrives, it feels sudden to outsiders.

Overnight success, they call it.

You and I know better.

Busy Years Consume Energy, Quiet Years Restore Direction

Busy years strangely drain energy.

Even when things go well, you feel stretched. Decisions pile up. Context switches exhaust the mind. There is constant urgency, even when nothing is truly urgent.

Quiet years slow things down.

Energy flows differently. Instead of being pulled in ten directions, it focuses on fewer priorities. You stop chasing everything and start choosing deliberately.

I noticed this shift clearly.

In busy years, my thinking stayed tactical. Solve this problem. Respond to that request. Fix today’s issue.

In quieter years, thinking became strategic again. Long arcs. Five-year questions. Structural changes.

If we continue like this, where will we end up?
What must be true for the next phase to work?

These questions do not scream for attention. They wait patiently.

Quiet Years Test Your Relationship With Ego

This might be the most uncomfortable part.

Busy years feed ego. Quiet years starve it.

When external recognition fades, you are left with one question.

Do you still believe in the work when nobody is watching?

I had to confront that question honestly.

There were moments when I missed the noise. The feedback. The sense of being visible. Quiet years strip away performance, leaving only intention.

If this never gets applause, would I still do it?
If progress takes longer than expected, do I still commit?

These questions reshape you.

They make motivation cleaner. Less dependent on reactions. More grounded in purpose.

The Trap of Measuring Life in Short Bursts

We live in a culture that celebrates bursts.

Quarterly results.
Monthly growth.
Weekly metrics.

Busy years fit perfectly into this worldview. They produce frequent updates and visible milestones.

Quiet years refuse to cooperate.

They stretch across time. They do not fit neatly into slides or social posts. They demand patience in a world that rewards speed.

I have come to see life less as a series of sprints and more as a series of seasons.

Some seasons are for harvesting.
Some are for planting.
Some are for repairing tools.
Some are for letting the soil rest.

Quiet years are not empty seasons. They are preparation seasons.

Why Many Breakthroughs Are Born in Silence

Look closely at most meaningful breakthroughs, and you will notice something.

They rarely happen during the noisiest periods.

They emerge after long stretches of thinking, trial, error, and refinement that nobody paid attention to at the time.

The idea matures quietly.
The skill sharpens privately.
The system stabilises out of sight.

Then one day, the world notices.

It looks sudden. It never is.

Quiet years create the conditions for breakthroughs. Busy years often only showcase them.

Learning to Trust Quiet Progress

Trust is hard when evidence is scarce.

During quiet years, you learn to measure progress differently.

Not by likes or invitations, but by questions such as:

Are decisions getting clearer?
Are mistakes repeating less often?
Is the team thinking more independently?
Do systems break less under pressure?

These signals are subtle. They require attention.

I started keeping private markers of progress. Notes to myself. Minor improvements that only I could see. They became reminders that something real was happening, even if it was not visible yet.

Stay with the process, I would tell myself.
Noise will come later.

When Quiet Years End

Quiet years do not last forever.

They give way to movement, visibility, and activity again. When that happens, the difference becomes obvious.

Decisions feel calmer.
Growth feels steadier.
Pressure feels manageable.

You are not scrambling to catch up. You are responding from a more substantial base.

People often ask what changed.

Nothing obvious.
Everything fundamental.

A Different Way to Look at Your Current Year

If this year feels quiet for you, pause before labelling it as wasted.

Ask yourself different questions.

What am I rebuilding right now?
What foundations am I strengthening?
What clarity am I gaining that I did not have before?

You might be in a year that will never make headlines but will quietly decide the next decade of your life.

Those years deserve respect.

Closing Thoughts

Busy years are visible. Quiet years are essential.

One without the other creates an imbalance. Noise without preparation leads to collapse. Preparation without patience leads to frustration.

I have stopped fearing quiet years.

I treat them as a sign that deeper work is happening. Work that does not ask for attention but shapes outcomes in lasting ways.

If you are in one now, stay with it.

Something important is forming, even if it has not yet learned to speak.

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Are you in a busy year or a quiet one right now?
What has it been teaching you?

Share in the comments.

Reflecting on a Grounded 2025: Lessons from Favoriot’s Journey

I am writing this ten days before 2025 comes to an end.

When I look back at the year, it does not feel loud. It does not feel dramatic. It feels focused. Demanding. Grounded. A year where most of my time, energy, and thinking revolved around one thing only: Favoriot.

If I am being honest, 2025 was not a year of balance. It was a year of commitment.

Most of my days were spent at the office. And when I was not physically there, my mind was still working on Favoriot. Nights. Weekends. Quiet moments that could have been rest often turned into planning or problem-solving. I did not spend much time on myself personally. There were no real holidays. The only breaks I had were during overseas business trips, and even then, work followed me closely.

I told myself more than once, This is not a sacrifice. This is a choice.

And I am at peace with that choice.

Fewer Invitations and a Shift in How We Connect

One noticeable change in 2025 was the drop in invitations from universities and public conferences. Many engagements that used to be physical moved online. Meetings became links. Conversations became scheduled time slots on screens.

I realised something about myself quite clearly this year.

I do not enjoy online meetings anymore.

They are convenient, but they remove the human layer. The casual chats before meetings start. The spontaneous conversations after sessions end. The subtle signals that build trust faster than formal presentations ever can.

I still prefer face-to-face meetings. They feel more honest. Better for networking. Better for understanding people beyond their titles.

Public conferences were fewer as well. Part of it could be the current spotlight on AI. IoT felt quieter this year, almost like it had stepped back from centre stage. I was not bothered by it. I was observant.

Trends move quickly. Real work moves steadily.

Why Panel Sessions Still Matter to Me

While formal speaking invitations slowed, one format still felt right to me: panel sessions.

No slides. No heavy preparation. Just conversations.

Sitting on stage, exchanging views, listening, responding, sometimes disagreeing politely. That feels closer to how decisions are made in real life.

I often think that insight shows up better in dialogue than in bullet points.

That belief stayed strong in 2025.

A Year Focused on Partnerships

Behind the scenes, 2025 was anything but quiet.

We spent a significant amount of time building partnerships. By the end of the year, we had signed MOUs with more than 40 partners across 15 countries. Our original target was 25 countries, so on paper, we fell short geographically.

But numbers do not tell the whole story.

I have learned that more partners do not automatically mean more revenue or more projects. Partnerships only matter when they are actively engaged, aligned, and nurtured.

Signing is easy. Building trust takes time.

Some partnerships moved faster. Some are still warming up. Some will likely take longer to show results. That is the nature of building across borders.

This year reminded me that ecosystems are built patiently, not collected quickly.

When People Find You on Their Own

One encouraging pattern this year was how people and companies started approaching us unexpectedly.

Each time, I asked the same question. “How did you find us?”

The answer was often simple. They searched online. They did their own research. They were surprised to discover an IoT platform company operating from this region.

That always made me pause.

Years of writing, sharing, and building quietly compound over time. Visibility does not always arrive with announcements. Sometimes it comes as an unexpected email or message.

That is when you realise the work has travelled further than you thought.

Fewer Projects, Fewer Trainings, a Cautious Market

Not everything grew this year.

Real IoT projects were fewer compared to previous years. IoT training numbers dropped as well. In-house training, which used to scale better, became harder to secure. We relied more on public training sessions, which are always challenging when it comes to attendance.

The market felt cautious.

Budgets were tighter. Decisions took longer. Interest was still there, but commitment required more patience.

There were moments when I questioned the pace. Is this a temporary slowdown, or is the market resetting itself?

Perhaps it is both.

Shifting My Focus Between Industry Associations

This year, I was less active in the Malaysia Smart City Alliance Association.

At the same time, I became more involved with the Malaysia IoT Association, partly due to my role as Vice-Chairman.

More importantly, MyIoTA’s Smart City Nexus activities align closely with the reasons I joined the association. The Nexus focuses on bringing members’ solutions directly to local councils. It creates a practical space for business matching, not just discussion.

That matters to me, and I plan to be more active there moving into 2026.

Favoriot Sembang Santai Podcast: Keeping Conversations Human

Another meaningful chapter in 2025 was the start of the Favoriot Sembang Santai.

We started the podcast in February 2025, and by December, we had reached Episode 38.

The reason was simple. I wanted a space for honest conversations. No scripts. No slides. No pressure to sound formal. Just honest discussions about Favoriot’s journey and what we were seeing in the IoT space.

The primary host is Zura Huzali, and I serve as the primary guest and speaker. The chemistry works because it feels natural. Curious questions. Straight answers. Occasional debates. Plenty of laughter.

The topics evolved naturally from Favoriot’s story into broader themes such as AI, robotics, satellite IoT, and Ambient IoT. Not as buzzwords, but as technologies we were trying to make practical sense of.

Anyone who misses the live sessions can catch the recordings on YouTube, Spotify, and Amazon Music.

The podcast will continue throughout 2026. For me, it is a long conversation, not a series.

TikTok Live on IoT Man: Ask Me Anything

Alongside the podcast, we also started doing casual TikTok Live sessions on the IoT Man channel.

The central theme is simple. “Ask Me Anything.”

No agenda. No slides. Just live questions and real-time answers. What excites me about these sessions is that they capture a different segment of listeners. Shorter attention spans. Younger audiences. People who may not sit through a long podcast but are curious enough to drop in and ask.

It feels raw. Immediate. Human.

Sometimes the most honest questions come without preparation.

Working With AI to Prepare for 2026

As 2025 draws to a close, one personal highlight has been working with my AI companion.

Not to replace thinking, but to sharpen it.

I spent many late nights shaping 2026 playbooks. How we approach the market. How we engage customers. How we manage partners. New business models. New IoT solution ideas.

The picture ahead feels clearer now.

Looking Forward

2025 was not flashy. It did not come with loud milestones.

But it mattered.

It tested focus. It strengthened conviction. It prepared the ground.

I am genuinely excited about 2026. The plans are clearer. The energy feels different. I hope the long-standing plans around IoT certifications with universities will finally become a reality.

Here is to a better, steadier, and more rewarding year ahead.

I would love to hear how your 2025 has been. Share your reflections in the comments.

New Book Release – The Favoriot Way: A Life Built on Curiosity and Courage

I never intended to write a book about my life. For the longest time, I believed my story was ordinary. A boy who loved robots. A student who worked hard. A man who moved from academia to corporate, from research labs to startup chaos. Nothing spectacular. Nothing worth documenting.

But as the years passed, people began asking me the same question.
“How did you do it?”

Not in a way that demanded formulas or secret tricks, but in a way that revealed genuine curiosity.

“How did you keep going?”
“How did you reinvent yourself so many times?”
“What kept you believing when others doubted you?”
“What pushed you to start Favoriot so late in life?”

I realised then that this story was not really about me. It was about the lessons hidden between the chapters. Lessons about resilience, curiosity, courage and purpose. Lessons shaped by struggles most people never saw. Lessons carved not by success, but by the quiet decisions to keep moving forward.

This book is not a list of achievements. It is not a formula for success. It is not a polished story told from a pedestal. It is a reflection of a life shaped by small sparks, broken radios, unexpected losses, second chances, relentless learning, surprising turns and a belief that Malaysia can build technology that matters.

I wrote this for the young engineer who doubts his potential.

For the student who feels invisible in a big system.
For the entrepreneur who fears starting too late.
For the dreamer who keeps ideas hidden because of what others might say.
For the person standing at the edge of a decision, whispering, Can I really do this?

If my journey teaches anything, let it be this:

You do not need the perfect moment to begin.
You do not need the loudest voice to make an impact.
You do not need to be young to chase a dream.
You just need the courage to take the first step and the purpose to keep going.

The chapters ahead are pieces of my life told honestly, sometimes painfully, sometimes joyfully, but always with the hope that they help someone see their own path more clearly.

Thank you for reading this.

Thank you for letting me share my story.

And thank you for believing, even in small ways, that our country can build a future filled with possibilities.

The journey continues.

I am grateful to walk part of it with you.

[Download the eBook for FREE – The Favoriot Way: A Life Built on Curiosity and Courage]

My Journey Through Academia, Telco, and Startup Mayhem — And Why I’d Do It Again

From Signals to Sensing: The Early Spark

Every time I look back at where this whole adventure began, I’m reminded of how simple the starting point was. I was just a young engineer obsessed with how things connected. My academic path shaped the first chapter — electrical engineering, telematics, and finally a doctoral dive into telecommunications.

Those years were filled with long nights, dense textbooks, and moments where I quietly wondered, “Is this really the road I want to stay on?” But something about networks — the way invisible signals could connect lives — kept pulling me forward.

My early years in academia gave me a grounding that I still rely on today. Teaching forced me to explain ideas clearly, question assumptions, and stay curious. It was the first real test of whether I understood the world of connectivity or was just reciting formulas.

Into the Telco Trenches

Eventually, the classroom walls felt too small. I wanted to see how these theories behaved under real pressure. That shift took me deep into the telecommunications industry.

Those years were intense: real customers, real failures, real deadlines. It wasn’t just about making a system work; it was about keeping it alive when the world depended on it.

Later, I moved to a national research agency, where I led teams working on early broadband, wireless sensor networks, and technologies that today fall neatly under the label of IoT. Back then, it felt like tinkering with the future. Testing prototypes in rural villages, deploying sensors in unfamiliar places, experimenting with wireless technologies that many considered too early or too ambitious.

Yet I couldn’t shake the thought: “What if this tech leaves the labs and enters daily life?” That question lingered for years.

The Entrepreneurial Leap

Eventually, that question grew too loud to ignore. I left the comfort of corporate structures and returned to the raw, unknown world of startup life.

First came a role in shaping a national IoT initiative. Then came the big leap: building a company from scratch.

That company was REDtone IoT. Running it taught me one of the toughest lessons — great tech means nothing if people can’t use it easily. Every client wanted IoT, but most didn’t know where to start. They struggled with device integration, cloud setups, dashboards, maintenance, and the countless hidden complexities that IoT quietly hides behind its shiny promise.

That frustration became the seed for something bigger.

The Birth of FAVORIOT

By 2017, the vision crystallised: create a platform that removes the chaos and gives everyone — students, SMEs, city councils, engineers — a simple way to bring IoT ideas to life.

FAVORIOT wasn’t built to be fancy. It was built to be practical.

I wanted a platform where a lecturer could run a complete IoT project without having to manage 10 different systems. Where a hardware company didn’t need to customise dashboards endlessly. Where a city council could monitor sensors without drowning in integration nightmares.

FAVORIOT was designed for inclusion. For accessibility. For the everyday builder, not just the big spender.

And every year since, that vision has deepened.

Wearing Many Hats

Even as FAVORIOT was growing, I continued teaching and speaking. These weren’t side gigs. They kept me grounded. They reminded me why I started.

Standing in front of students made me rethink complexity. Speaking to industry leaders challenged my ideas. Engaging with smart city stakeholders, founders, and device makers kept me aware of the real obstacles people face.

Sometimes I’d walk out of a lecture hall thinking, “This feedback is better than any consultancy report.”

Sometimes a conversation with a frustrated engineer made me go back and tweak the platform design.

Those experiences shaped FAVORIOT as much as any technology roadmap ever did.

Recognition and Reality Checks

Over time, things began to click. FAVORIOT earned recognition. My own work in IoT and smart cities gained global visibility. Industry groups listed me among the top influencers. Conferences kept inviting me to speak.

But none of that ever felt like a trophy finish. If anything, it reminded me that the journey had only just reached a new checkpoint.

“Alright, Mazlan, now don’t get comfortable,” I’d quietly tell myself.

The pressure increased. Expectations rose. The work became heavier… but also more meaningful.

Why the Story Still Matters

When I piece the chapters together, it becomes clear that every phase — the student, the professor, the telco engineer, the researcher, the entrepreneur — served a purpose.

  • Academia taught discipline.
  • Telco taught scale.
  • Research taught imagination.
  • Entrepreneurship taught resilience.
  • Teaching and speaking taught clarity.

FAVORIOT stands today as more than a platform. It’s a symbol of what happens when technology is shaped around people — their pains, their limitations, their hopes.

I’ve always believed IoT should be accessible. Not something locked behind expensive teams or giant corporations. Not something only “experts” can touch.

If we can empower everyday builders, we’re doing something right.

A Note to My Younger Self

If I could sit with the younger version of me — the one carrying textbooks thicker than his arm — I’d probably smile and say:

“Every jump you make will make sense one day. Every detour, every frustration, every late night… you’re collecting tools. Don’t rush the process.”

And maybe I’d add:

“When you build for people, not systems, that’s when the real magic happens.”

If you’ve read this far, I’m curious — which part of this journey speaks to you the most? Drop your thoughts. Let’s connect through stories.

Hi. I’m the Guy Behind FAVORIOT

And this isn’t another tech pitch.
It’s a confession… and a promise.

FAVORIOT didn’t appear out of thin air.
It was born from years of watching brilliant Malaysians fight battles they shouldn’t have to fight.

I’ve been in telco rooms where engineers looked exhausted after stitching ten different systems together.
I’ve sat with lecturers who said their students had the passion but no real platform to grow on.
I’ve listened to system integrators torn between pleasing clients and staying sane.
I’ve seen founders pour their hearts into pilots that never scaled because every new project felt like starting from scratch.

I saw all of it up close.
I asked questions.
I listened carefully.
I heard the frustration that people rarely say out loud.

One lecturer confided, “My students can build anything… but we have no common place to make it real.”

A hardware partner admitted, “We’re drowning in dashboard customisations. It’s slowing us down.”

A founder whispered what many felt, “Every pilot feels like a science experiment that no one wants to repeat.”

The pattern was unmistakable.
The problem wasn’t talent.
It wasn’t ideas.
It wasn’t ambition.

It was the weight of chaos…
devices speaking ten different languages, dashboards built for every new customer, integrations that kept breaking, and projects that died because the foundations were never steady.

Everyone was building islands.
No bridges.
No unity.
No momentum.

And it hurt to see so many capable Malaysians struggling not because of skill… but because the ecosystem never gave them a proper foundation.

So I decided to build one.

Not a platform for show.
Not a platform for slides.
But a platform shaped by every frustration I witnessed.

A platform that starts you at 60 percent instead of zero.
A platform that speaks to every device, every protocol, every idea.
A platform that lets students learn without drowning.
A platform that lets partners grow without rebuilding the same thing endlessly.
A platform that lets enterprises keep their data close and their confidence intact.

FAVORIOT wasn’t built to impress you.
It was built to lighten your load.

Because I’ve seen the late nights.
The soldering iron on the table at 2am.
The dashboards rebuilt for the fifteenth time.
The excitement in students fading because nothing works the way it should.
The startups who gave up not because their idea was bad, but because everything around their idea was too messy.

I built FAVORIOT so that your talent doesn’t get buried under problems that shouldn’t exist.

I’m not saying it will fix bureaucracy.
I’m not saying it will make everyone tech-ready overnight.
And I’m not saying it will solve every problem under the Malaysian sun.

But I am saying this:

The struggles that slow you down the most are solvable.

The confusion.
The repeated work.
The endless customisation.
The feeling of always starting over.
The platforms that fight you instead of helping you.

Those problems shouldn’t be your burden anymore.

You were meant to build solutions.
To teach.
To innovate.
To create impact.
To push Malaysia forward.

Your tools should support that… not get in the way.

So try it.
Connect a single sensor.
Send one stream of data.
Build one dashboard.

And see if something inside you says…
“This is how it should have been all along.”

My belief?
You’ll finally feel the freedom to build without fighting the foundations.

FAVORIOT exists because Malaysia deserves that freedom.
Innovators deserve that clarity.
And you deserve a platform that works with you.

No hype.
No fireworks.
Just the foundation you’ve been asking for… quietly waiting for you to take the next step.

— The guy who built Favoriot because too many Malaysians were struggling in silence.

Why “Pick My Brain” Isn’t Free Anymore — And That’s OK

You’ve probably heard it before — or maybe you’ve said it yourself.

“Can I pick your brain?”

It sounds innocent. Harmless. Even flattering, right?

But if you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that phrase more times than you can count — especially after years of hard-earned experience, long nights, and lessons learned the hard way — you start to notice a pattern.

Let me guess…

They want your expertise.
They want your contacts.
They want your strategy.
They want your playbook.

But they don’t want to pay for it.

Wait, when did my brain become a free buffet?

There was a time when I said yes to every coffee meeting, every DMs asking for “advice,” every student request to “chat for 15 minutes.” I thought, why not? It’s good karma. I’m helping someone.

But over time, something shifted.

I began to feel drained. Not just mentally — emotionally too.

People would show up with notebooks, ask 100 questions, take furious notes… and disappear. No follow-up. No thank you. Just silence — until the next person showed up asking the same thing.

It wasn’t a conversation. It was extraction.

Here’s the brutal truth: Free advice isn’t free.

Behind every answer I give, there are:

  • 10+ years of doing the work
  • Thousands of dollars in mistakes
  • Countless hours learning what NOT to do
  • Relationships I spent decades building

That doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to help. Not at all.

It just means I now value my time — and I hope you do too.

So when someone says “Can I pick your brain?” — here’s what I really hear:

“Can I get the shortcuts, distilled wisdom, and customized advice that you earned through blood, sweat, and tears… for the price of a latte?”

And that’s just not sustainable.

But what if you genuinely want help?

Great! There’s a better way to ask.

Try this instead:

  • “Do you offer consulting? I’d love to book a session.”
  • “Is there a paid way I can access your insights?”
  • “Can I attend your workshop or buy your guide?”

That tells me you respect the value of what I bring to the table — and you’re serious about acting on it.

Because let’s be honest: People who pay, pay attention. When you invest in something, you show up differently. You listen harder. You apply faster. You get results.

Free advice, more often than not, just collects dust in someone’s Google Drive.

It’s not personal — it’s professional.

This boundary isn’t about being arrogant. It’s about being aligned.

My time is now reserved for:

  • People who are ready to commit
  • Clients who want transformation, not just information
  • Collaborations that are mutually respectful and energizing

The rest? Well… they’ll be okay. Google exists. YouTube is full of free content. Libraries are still around.

But if you want my brain — the years, the insights, the customized roadmap?

That’s called consulting. And yes, it comes with a price tag.

I still want to give back — just differently.

I still write free blog posts. I still create podcast episodes. I still share value-packed content online. That’s me giving back at scale — to everyone.

But my one-on-one time?

That’s sacred now.

Because here’s what I’ve learned the hard way:

“If you don’t put a price on your time, someone else will — and it’ll be far lower than it’s worth.”

So, if you’re someone who’s ever wanted to ask “Can I pick your brain?” — pause for a second. Ask yourself:

  • Do I value this person’s time?
  • Am I ready to act on what I learn?
  • Am I willing to invest in the outcome I want?

If the answer is yes — fantastic.

Let’s talk. But let’s do it the right way.

Because your brain isn’t a buffet either.

And it’s time we all started acting like it.

The Most Expensive, Yet Most Valuable Decision: When I Left Comfort to Create Meaning

“Are you sure you want to let go of all this?”

That question wasn’t just about salary, status, or position. It was actually a much deeper dilemma: Do I keep living in a system… or start building my own?

And my decision at the time—although it seemed like just a career move—was in fact a personal geopolitical shift. I didn’t leave because I was disappointed. I left because I saw a map no one else had drawn yet.

When the Comfort Zone Becomes a Cage

Many believe that the comfort zone is a reward after years of struggle. But few realize—stay too long, and it becomes a silent prison.

I was in a well-established organization, with a stable salary and a high-ranking position. But quietly, I became an actor in a script I didn’t write. The world was moving forward—IoT, AI, data economy—but we kept repeating old templates.

I saw young Malaysians becoming increasingly tech-savvy, yet there was no local platform to be their launchpad. We were still consumers, not creators. Still dependent on foreign digital infrastructure, without control or data sovereignty.

“If not us, then who?”

And that’s when the decision was born—not from courage, but from a sense of historical responsibility.

Leaving Power to Create Direction

I left my position. With no guarantees.

No office. No big team. No funding. Just an idea, conviction, and one burning resolve:

To build Favoriot as Malaysia’s true digital infrastructure.

Not just a platform. But a symbol. That we can be self-reliant. That innovation isn’t exclusive to Silicon Valley. That locals too can build world-class solutions.

But I knew the world doesn’t offer space just because of noble intentions.

The credibility I once had didn’t carry into the startup world. Emails that once received quick replies now fell silent. I was no longer a “Senior Director”—just an unproven founder.

But that’s the real cost of walking away from the old system—you lose short-term influence to build long-term strength.

Becoming an Architect in an Unbuilt World

Starting from zero is a spiritual exercise.

I had to become the thinker, the marketer, the engineer, the writer, the salesman—and sometimes… the coffee maker for guests who might not even become clients.

But in that process, I saw something I never did in the corporate world.

I saw how one IoT dashboard could change how a city council manages their city and provide information to their citizens.

How students using Favoriot got hired before graduation.

How universities started incorporating IoT into their syllabus not because the Ministry told them to—but because they saw the future.

And I began to understand—sometimes, real impact doesn’t come from applause. But from quiet change in the system.

This Decision Was Never Just About Me

Looking back, I realized this decision was never just personal.

It was about building an alternative.

In a world increasingly dependent on technology, those who control data, control the future.

If Malaysia continues to rely solely on foreign platforms, we will always be spectators in a drama written by others.

Favoriot is not the ultimate answer.

But it’s an attempt to carve a new lane.

So that Malaysia doesn’t remain on the sidelines.

So we have a choice. So we are not forever users—but creators.

What I Learned

We can’t wait for national change to trickle from above. Sometimes, true change begins when someone chooses to exit the system… and starts building a new one.

And yes, it hurts. It’s lonely. It’s full of failure.

But in that silence, I found my voice again.

And in those failures, I found strength I never knew I had.

The Question We Must Ask

Malaysia today is also standing at a similar crossroads.

Do we keep waiting for outside directives?

Or do we start writing our own script?

As I’ve learned from my own decision—what seems small, can ignite something far bigger.

The real question is:

Do we dare to leave our national comfort zone… to become a nation of builders?

Or will we remain a stepping stone in someone else’s grand agenda?

Because history won’t wait. And the future… belongs only to those bold enough to write it.

Transform Your Day: The Power of Early Morning Habits

Every morning at 5:30 a.m., without fail, my eyes flutter open—not to an alarm, but to an internal clock that has been fine-tuned through decades of habit, discipline, and a desire to live each day intentionally.

“Let’s go. Time to wake the soul before the world does.”

That’s the first self-reminder that echoes in my mind.

As a 63-year-old who has gone through the different chapters of life—academia, government service, the corporate world, and now the startup scene with FAVORIOT—I’ve come to learn that how I start my morning sets the tone for everything that follows. You don’t command a smart city, build an IoT platform, or inspire others without conquering the first hour of your day.

5.30 AM: The Awakening

I rise from my bed with quiet intention. The world outside is still cloaked in darkness, and it’s in that serenity that I find my strength. The first thing I do is perform wudhu’ (ablution). It’s a spiritual reset button. A symbolic and literal cleansing — not just of the body, but of the mind and soul.

Then, I perform the Subuh prayers. These early morning prayers are more than just a ritual for me. They’re my grounding force.

“Ya Allah, guide me today to inspire, write, build, and serve.”

Some mornings, I sit in reflection a bit longer, especially when I feel the weight of a decision coming. Running a startup like FAVORIOT and juggling multiple commitments as an adjunct professor and speaker means my days can get chaotic. But those few moments after Subuh are sacred. They keep me anchored.

6.00 AM – 7.00 AM: My Creative Hour

The house is quiet. No distractions. No emails. No phone calls. Just me and my thoughts.

This is when I do something that surprises many people — I write.

Yes, every day, I try to write for at least an hour — whether it’s a blog article on mazlanabbas.com, an update on IoT for the FAVORIOT community, or even just scribbles for future social media posts.

Don’t get me wrong — there are days when I sit in front of the laptop and…

“Nothing. Not a single idea. Writer’s block? Again?”

On days like these, I don’t force it. Instead, I use Jetpack’s Prompts from WordPress. They’re like sparks that ignite the dormant corners of my mind. Sometimes, a simple question like, “What is one lesson you’ve learned the hard way?” leads me to unearth a memory from my early days at MIMOS or CELCOM or a lesson learned from building FAVORIOT with limited resources.

These prompts aren’t just writing cues. They’re invitations to reflect, connect, and document a life of learning and leadership.

6.45 AM: Engaging with My Digital Circle

Once the writing juices slow, I turn to my social media platforms, especially Facebook.

This might sound like the opposite of focus, but for me, it’s strategic. Over the years, I’ve built a strong and engaged community — professionals, students, fellow entrepreneurs, and tech enthusiasts. These aren’t just followers. They’re part of my extended family.

I check comments, reply to messages, and share new thoughts. Sometimes, I post a new blog entry, and sometimes, I respond to an interesting article someone tagged me in.

“Should I post this now? Or will it do better later?”

Sometimes, I overthink it. But more often than not, I remind myself — just share. Be real. Be consistent. It’s not about chasing likes. It’s about building trust and leaving digital footprints that matter.

Social media, for me, isn’t entertainment. It’s a way to educate, inspire, and connect. And it’s the perfect way to warm up before I switch into business mode.

7.00 AM Onwards: Preparing for the Day’s Battles

By this time, my mind is vigilant. I feel like I’ve already accomplished something — prayed, reflected, created, engaged.

Now it’s time to get ready for the workday.

Depending on the day, I might be:

  • Reviewing IoT platform updates with the tech team at FAVORIOT
  • Preparing slides for a keynote at an IoT or Smart Cities conference
  • Conducting an online training session via FAVORIOT Academy
  • Planning strategic calls with our global partners from the FAVORIOT Partner Network

Before I leave the house, I double-check my notebook (yes, I still use a physical one)—a habit from my CELCOM and MIMOS days. I jot down key priorities for the day—three things max.

“Mazlan, don’t try to do everything. Just do these three things really well.”

And with that, I’m ready.

Why My Morning Rituals Matter

Over the years, I’ve learned that rituals are more powerful than motivation. Motivation comes and goes, but habits—especially morning habits—are what carry us through uncertainty.

There was a time when my days were filled with back-to-back meetings, long commutes, and firefighting urgent issues. But even back then, I protected my mornings. That first hour is mine — no matter where I am.

It’s the hour when I’m not CEO Mazlan, Professor Mazlan, or even the guy people tag in IoT discussions. I’m just me—a man with thoughts, reflections, faith, and words to share.

My Advice to You?

Build your morning around what truly matters.

  • Maybe it’s prayer.
  • Maybe it’s writing.
  • Maybe it’s exercise, journaling, or reading.
  • Maybe it’s just sitting in silence with your coffee.

But own that hour. Make it yours. Protect it like your most valuable asset — because it is.

You don’t need a 15-step productivity routine. Just a small, consistent rhythm that aligns with your purpose.

For me? Subuh. Writing. Connecting.

That’s more than enough.

“Let’s begin the day. The world awaits. But I’ve already won the morning.”

What Makes a Person Truly Unique?

As someone who has spent decades navigating the academic world, corporate boardrooms, government agencies, and startup trenches, I’ve come to realise that what makes a person truly unique is not just one defining trait but a combination of mindset, experience, and passion.

It’s the signature blend of your past, values, and vision for the future.

Let me break it down through my own lens—through personal stories, reflections, and the questions I’ve asked myself.

1. The Journey You Choose (or Endure)

“Why did I move from academia to government, then to corporate, and finally to building my startup?”

Many thought I was indecisive. But I saw it differently. Each step gave me a new superpower.

  • In academia, I learned how to think deeply and teach simply.
  • In government, I saw how policy can impact innovation nationally.
  • In corporate, I experienced the pace of execution and the demand for ROI.
  • In startup life, I learned humility, agility, and how to survive with little but dream big.

Not everyone chooses this “multiverse” path, but embracing it made me unique. I carried lessons from each world into the next.

2. How You React to Failure

“Mazlan, you left a comfortable job to start something uncertain?”

Yes—and I failed more times than I can count. But here’s the thing: I never let failure define me. Instead, I documented, reflected, and shared.

Every rejection, every “no,” became fuel for the next attempt.

What’s unique is not that you fail but how you rise from it—with clarity, grace, and a story others can learn from.

3. Your Obsession

“You’re still talking about IoT after all these years?”

Absolutely. I eat, sleep, and breathe IoT—not because it’s trendy but because I believe it can change lives. Even now, I run FAVORIOT to democratise IoT and make it accessible for students, startups, and governments.

Obsession—when combined with purpose—is what sets someone apart. It’s the thing you can’t shut off. You read about it, dream about it, and keep pushing the boundaries.

That’s the heartbeat of uniqueness.

4. The Way You Communicate

I once blogged about gadgets. Then, I pivoted to writing about technology, leadership, and storytelling. Today, I use WordPress, LinkedIn, podcasts, and even TikTok to reach different audiences.

Why?

I realised that what makes my voice unique isn’t just my technical knowledge but how I simplify it, narrate it, and humanise it.

People don’t remember jargon. They remember stories, analogies, and emotions. If you can make someone say, “Now I get it,” you’ve done something special.

5. The Values You Don’t Compromise

I’ve had opportunities that promised more fame, money, or power throughout my career. But I always asked myself:

“Is this aligned with what I believe?”

I don’t play politics. I don’t sell out. I don’t cut corners. I treat my team like family, and I lead with empathy.

In a world of copy-paste personalities, your principles become your fingerprint.

6. What You Do When No One’s Watching

In my quiet moments, I read articles from new writers, reply to comments, and refine my writing. I write even when no one reads because consistency builds credibility.

“But no one reads your articles.”

I kept writing anyway. Until one day—people did.

Your uniqueness is often born in the shadows, when no one claps, shares, or notices.

And still—you show up.

7. How You Inspire Others

I don’t just want to build a business. I want to develop people.

That’s why I mentor students, share my lessons, and give talks—even to small audiences. That’s why I created FAVORIOT Academy—to train the next generation of IoT professionals.

You become unique by climbing the ladder and extending your hand to those below you.

8. Your Curiosity and Lifelong Learning

Even today, I explore new platforms, write new articles, and learn from people much younger than me.

“Why are you still experimenting?”

Curiosity is a fire that never retires. The moment you stop learning, you become static. I choose to evolve—even at 64.

Uniqueness comes from the courage to keep updating yourself and stay relevant not by age but by adaptability.

9. Your Ability to Connect Across Generations

I often speak to university students, young engineers, and even teenagers on TikTok. Some are surprised—“Dr. Mazlan, you’re on TikTok?”

Yes, and I love it.

If you can speak every generation’s language, whether through blog posts or memes, you become a bridge. That connection—not just knowledge—is what makes someone unforgettable.

10. How You Turn Passion Into Impact

I don’t work on IoT just to build cool gadgets. I do it to solve real problems, from smart agriculture to healthcare, education, and even energy management.

Passion becomes power when you channel it into something greater than yourself.

When your work serves others, your uniqueness becomes your legacy.

A Personal Formula

If you ask me to define what makes a person unique, I’d say:

Uniqueness = (Journey + Failure + Obsession + Voice + Values + Discipline + Impact + Curiosity + Communication + Empathy) x Authenticity

You don’t need to be the smartest or the loudest in the room.
You just need to be the most you.

So, find your intersection.
Share your scars.
Own your quirks.
Speak your truth.

The world doesn’t need another replica.
It needs your story—told your way.

“Mazlan, what makes you unique?”

I’d say it’s because I’m still learning, experimenting, and daring to dream… even after all these years.

What Would I Want Named After Me? I Never Asked for a Title, But They Gave Me One Anyway

“Do you want something named after you, Dr. Mazlan?”

That question caught me off guard.

Not because it was unexpected — people love giving names to legacies, buildings, awards, even algorithms. But because deep inside, I never asked for any of it.

You see, I’m just a man who fell in love with technology. Not for fame. Not for glory. But because I truly believed it could make lives better.

Yet, along the way… names started sticking.

From “Dial-a-Coke” to Global Conferences

Let me rewind to the early 2000s.

I worked in the telecommunications industry back then—CELCOM Axiata, to be specific. This was long before the word “IoT” entered mainstream vocabulary. Yet even then, we were already experimenting with early machine-to-machine (M2M) communication forms.

One of our most exciting innovations at the time was a Coke vending machine that could be triggered by SMS.

“Wait… you mean you can buy a drink just by texting a number?”

Yes, precisely that. The concept was called “Dial-a-Coke.” You send a text, and it deducts the amount from your mobile credit. Voila, a cold can drop out of the machine.

Was it revolutionary? For that time — absolutely.

But to me, it wasn’t about being revolutionary. It was about solving problems in simple ways using connectivity. That mindset never left me.

IoT: A Journey of Passion, Not Titles

Fast-forward to 2013. That’s when I began immersing myself even more seriously into IoT—this time not just as a technologist but also as a speaker, writer, researcher, and eventually, entrepreneur.

Everywhere I went, I would talk about IoT.

At conferences. In classrooms. On stage. Off stage. At coffee shops. In boardrooms.

The energy never ran out. In fact, it grew stronger every time I saw someone’s eyes light up with an “Aha!” when they understood what IoT could do for their lives or business.

Radio interviews followed, then television. Podcasts. Newspapers. Magazines. Even my children rolled their eyes when I’d go into another “IoT monologue” during dinner.

Then came the birth of FAVORIOT — a company built to democratise IoT for developers, enterprises, and even students.

It wasn’t just business. It was my passion translated into a platform.

And Then, They Started Calling Me…

One day after a seminar, someone walked up to me and said,

“Dr. Mazlan, you’re like the Father of IoT in Malaysia.”

I laughed. A little awkwardly, I must admit.

Because if anyone deserves that title globally, it’s Kevin Ashton — the man who coined the term the “Internet of Things. I’ve always credited him for that.

But the person insisted,

“You’ve been advocating this in Malaysia longer than anyone I know. You make people understand IoT in a simple, practical way. That’s a gift.”

And slowly… it started spreading.

Father of IoT Malaysia.

Was it official? No.
Was it universally agreed? Probably not.
Was it something I asked for? Never.

But I accepted it—not for the ego—but for what it represents: a shared belief that maybe, just maybe, I had helped lay some of the digital foundations in this country’s IoT journey.

TikTok, Branding, and a Name That Stuck

In 2022, I did something unexpected — I joined TikTok.

Yup, at the age when most people would be watching TikTok videos, I started making them.

My handle? @iotman2030.

Why 2030? People often ask.

Simple. Because I wanted the technology I championed to be relevant by then.

“What if you just used @iotman2022 or 2023?”

Well, that would age too quickly, wouldn’t it? Who wants to be known by a handle that feels like it expired with last year’s tech trends?

Since then, “IoT Man” has become another name people have started calling me. Some jokingly, some with admiration, but it stuck.

I never corrected anyone. Because, in a way, it perfectly captured who I was and what I stood for.

So, If I Could Name Something After Me…

Honestly? I wouldn’t.

I believe names should be earned by impact, not intent.

But if someone else names something after me—maybe a scholarship, an award, or a lab—I just hope it’s for the right reasons.

That it inspires young minds to build the next generation of connected solutions.
That it reminds people how persistence, curiosity, and belief can shape an entire career.
That it stands for passion without ego.

And maybe it helps a few dreamers realize that technology isn’t just about wires and sensors. It’s about people.

A Legacy Beyond the Name

I never started this journey wanting to be known as anything.

Not the Father of IoT.
Not IoT Man.
Not even Dr. Mazlan the Technologist.

But I did want to make a difference.

And if making a difference earns me a name, then so be it.

Let it not be a pedestal but a platform.
Let it not be a brand but a bridge.

Because names will fade, but impact — that lingers.

So, if you ever hear someone call me Father of IoT Malaysia or IoT Man, just know —
It’s not about me.
It’s about the mission.

And that mission? Still going strong.

Even in 2030.