THE arrival of a new year often comes with familiar rituals – resolutions scribbled with optimism, promises made quietly to oneself and an unspoken hope that this time, things will be different.
For me, 2026 does not feel like a year of dramatic reinvention. Instead, it feels like a year of redemption – a year to reclaim purpose, refine ambition and appreciate the moments that matter most.
Redemption does not always mean fixing something broken. Sometimes, it simply means returning to what we once believed in but with clearer eyes and steadier hands.
Professionally, 2026 is a year I hope to move forward with greater intention.
Journalism has never been just a job to me. It is a responsibility – to document, to question, to give voice and to tell stories that deserve to be told with honesty and depth.
Like many in this profession, there are moments of doubt, fatigue, and quiet frustration when the work feels unseen or undervalued. Yet, the belief in good journalism has never left.
This year, I hope to approach my career with clearer direction and renewed discipline.
Like many journalists, the goal is not recognition for its own sake but the quiet assurance that the work – the long hours, careful interviews and commitment to accuracy – continues to hold value.
Any form of professional acknowledgement, when it comes, serves less as personal validation and more as a reminder of the standards the profession must uphold.
In an age driven by speed and noise, it reinforces why integrity, persistence and thoughtful storytelling still matter.
At the same time, I approach 2026 with a deeper understanding of balance – something that once felt abstract but is now profoundly real.
Beyond deadlines and bylines, this year will also be marked by milestones that cannot be measured in professional achievements.
It is the year I will witness my baby grow in ways that are both ordinary and extraordinary.
The anticipation of hearing his first words, watching his first unsteady steps, and celebrating his first birthday in July is a quiet joy that anchors everything else.
There is something humbling about watching life unfold at its most basic and beautiful pace.
Babies do not rush. They learn when they are ready. They fall, they try again, and they celebrate progress in the smallest victories.
In many ways, there is a lesson there – one that adulthood often forgets. Perhaps redemption, too, is about learning to move forward without haste.
Motherhood has reshaped my understanding of time, success and presence. Moments that once slipped by unnoticed now carry weight.
A laugh, a grip of tiny fingers, a look of recognition – these are reminders that life’s most meaningful chapters are often written quietly, away from public view.
Yet, this does not diminish ambition. If anything, it sharpens it.
There is a renewed sense of purpose in wanting to do better – not just for oneself, but for the future one is helping to shape.
To show, by example, that commitment to work and commitment to family do not have to exist in opposition.
That it is possible to pursue professional excellence while remaining present for life’s most important moments.
For Sarawak, too, 2026 presents its own journey of continuity and growth.
As journalists, our role remains crucial in documenting progress, highlighting challenges and holding space for honest discourse.
Redemption at a societal level often begins with awareness – and awareness begins with responsible reporting.
As the year unfolds, there will be stories of triumph and struggle, of policy and people, of change both subtle and significant.
It is my hope to approach each assignment with renewed clarity — to listen more carefully, write more thoughtfully and remain grounded in the values that first drew me to this profession.
2026 is not a year I expect to be perfect. There will be setbacks, fatigue and days when goals feel distant. But redemption is not about perfection.
It is about persistence. It is about choosing, each day, to show up with purpose – whether at work, at home, or within oneself.
As the year begins, I do not ask for ease. I ask for growth – in my career, in my role as a mother and in the person I am becoming.
If 2026 teaches anything, I hope it is this: that success is not only measured by milestones achieved but by the grace with which we navigate them.
And perhaps that is redemption in its truest form – becoming more aligned with who we are meant to be, one year, one story and one small step at a time.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at sarahhafizahchandra@gmail.com.
