‘The mosque, the river, the sea’: Why Terengganu folk say they need little else to be happy

KUALA TERENGGANU – Ms Farhana Azman has heard the same refrain about her home state – Terengganu is backward and its people are poor – too many times to count.

The daycare centre owner bristles at the suggestion that somewhere along Malaysia’s sun-drenched east coast, progress has quietly passed by the 1.25 million residents in the state.

“We have different perspectives about being rich,” Ms Farhana told The Straits Times from a beachside cafe in state capital Kuala Terengganu.

“For us, Islam comes first. We believe in rezeki.”

Rezeki – from the Arabic rizq – is the Islamic concept that each person’s sustenance is divinely apportioned. It shapes how Muslims here, who form the majority of the state’s population, interpret success and hardship alike. A promotion is an increase in rezeki; a missed opportunity is simply not meant for them, perhaps even quiet protection against unseen harm.

Paired with tawakkal, or trust in God to provide, it forms a world view in which fulfilment is measured less in ringgit than in faith.

Ms Farhana’s comment mirrored a comment by Terengganu Menteri Besar Samsuri Mokhtar in February, when he said the state’s gross domestic product (GDP) figures do not tell the full story, and that “numbers are not everything”.

In a since deleted Facebook post on Feb 23, Datuk Seri Samsuri, who holds a doctorate in aerospace engineering, instead pointed to the Malaysian Happiness Index, which ranked Terengganu at the top in its 2024 report, as a more meaningful gauge of well-being.

“Setiu District, for example, is often said to be among the lowest in terms of GDP (in the state) but is among the happiest districts,” he noted in the post.

Setiu, often cited as one of Terengganu’s weakest districts in economic terms, sits at the lower end of the state’s GDP ladder, with its economy rooted in small-scale agriculture and fisheries.

“This shows that economic growth is not necessarily analogous with the level of well-being.”

Dr Samsuri’s comment was panned by the Selangor state branch of Parti Amanah Negara, a component party of the ruling Pakatan Harapan coalition, calling it an “embarrassing form of romanticising failure”.

“When a leader who is touted as a potential prime minister is proud of the sense of peace behind slow economic development, he is actually hiding the ineffectiveness of his own administration,” the party said in a statement on Feb 26.

But for Ms Farhana, being “rich” to an average Terengganu person can simply mean food on the table, a motorbike to get around, and time to go to the mosque.

“They just don’t get it,” she said, referring to the outsiders’ perceptions.

This disconnect speaks to a deeper divide over how Malaysia’s Malay-Muslim heartland is seen – and how it sees itself.

‘Numbers are not everything’

According to official statistics, Terengganu is trailing behind most of the other states in Malaysia, with its GDP per capita of RM32,442 (S$10,400) in 2024 well below the national average of RM56,734 and far behind Kuala Lumpur’s RM136,365.

Its economy grew by 4.5 per cent in 2024, compared with the national average of 5.1 per cent.

But the gas-rich state was placed at the top of the “very happy” category with a score of 8.64, ahead of the national average of 7.6. Key to this ranking is contentment in religion and spirituality, reinforced by strong family ties, community life and a slower pace of life.

This emphasis on happiness over growth reflects a broader ideological current in Terengganu’s leadership, where economic performance is not always framed as the primary measure of success.

Like neighbouring Kelantan and Kedah, Terengganu is often described as part of Malaysia’s Malay-Muslim heartland, where Islam plays a central role in daily life. Informal pondok schools, some pre-dating Malaysia’s independence, continue to shape religious education and community values.

While Kelantan has been governed by the Islamist Parti Islam SeMalaysia (PAS) since 1990, Terengganu shocked the nation by electing Perikatan Nasional (PN) to all 32 seats of its state assembly, making it the only state without an opposition in Malaysia.

PAS is the key member of the PN coalition. The state assembly is made up of 27 PAS members and five from Bersatu, the junior member of PN.

The world view matters beyond Terengganu’s borders. In February, Dr Samsuri was appointed chairman of the opposition PN bloc, replacing former prime minister Muhyiddin Yassin, who stepped down in January – putting him in possible contention to lead Malaysia.

The state’s geography has also shaped this identity. Much of the state’s population lives along its 244km coastline facing the South China Sea, where the beach serves not only as a source of livelihood, but also as a social and communal space.

Sociologist Dina Zaman of local progressive think-tank Iman Research, who is from Terengganu, said the contrast becomes most apparent when compared with urban centres like Kuala Lumpur.

“Of course, GDP – money – is very important, but Kuala Lumpur can get to you,” she told ST. “It’s too much of a city, whereas Terengganu is cool.”

A state between mosque and sea

Nowhere was that quality more visible than at sunset, during the final days of Ramadan, when crowds streamed into the historic all-white Abidin Mosque in the centre of Kuala Terengganu for a communal breaking of fast before a night of prayers.

Radiating from the mosque that was built in the late 18th century were stalls selling everything from clothing to coffee, catering to the worshippers, while the evening sky was peppered with sporadic firework displays from children along the riverside.

According to teacher Saifullah Mat Deris, such an atmosphere feels unique to his home town.

“It’s the life between the mosque, the river and the sea. There isn’t much more I can ask for,” he said.

He added that the city is “city enough” for his needs, while nature is just a short drive away.

“Whether it’s the sea or the countryside, there is everything here,” he said.

Still, the state’s economy is not without strong pillars. Oil and gas operations led by Petronas in Kerteh remain a key driver, while tourism draws visitors to its beaches, islands such as Redang and Kapas, and traditional crafts like batik.

In Kuala Terengganu, the arts and crafts trade is centred in Pasar Kedai Payang, a waterfront cultural market that underwent a RM70 million redevelopment over more than seven years.

Yet despite the investment, the market is often quiet, with more shops than visitors outside peak periods such as Hari Raya and school holidays – reinforcing perceptions of a slow-paced, uneventful state capital.

Limited economic opportunities have pushed many young people to leave.

Terengganu recorded an annual population growth rate of just 1.3 per cent in 2022, among the lowest in Malaysia, with outward migration driven largely by the search for jobs.

For legal adviser Fauzi Mahmood, 32, who is based in Kuala Lumpur, staying in Terengganu often means following a narrow path.

“It’s either a public service job – teachers, civil servants – or some form of business or trading. There really isn’t much else,” he said.

Terengganu’s median monthly household income of RM5,500 sits below the national level of RM6,338, putting it in the bottom third among Malaysian states, far below the median income of Selangor, at RM8,200.

Yet for some, the very lack of rapid development is part of the appeal.

Hotelier and travel operator Alex Lee said the state’s slower growth has helped preserve its traditional character, unlike in more developed parts of Malaysia.

His resorts, Terrapuri and Terramalai, repurpose traditional Malay houses into chalets in Setiu and Batu Rakit, north of the state capital.

But he warns that prolonged stagnation carries risks.

“Progress requires an increase in economic activity and GDP,” Mr Lee said.

“Otherwise the state will not only be filled with old buildings, but also old people.”