
Within hours of FMT publishing the story of six-year-old Dhia Amanda, more than RM115,000 poured in from ordinary Malaysians.
They were strangers who had never heard her name before – and yet, somehow, it felt as though they had always known her.
By mid-day, her fundraising total, which had sat below RM60,000 for weeks, had crossed the RM175,000 mark.
A nation that often argues, debates and fractures along lines of race, politics and belief had, for a moment, moved as one in compassion.
Messages arrived from Chinese Malaysians, Indian Malaysians, East Malaysians, Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, even Malaysians living overseas – each one carrying the same sentiment: “Please help this child.”
The recipients were stunned. Volunteers at Suriana Welfare Society watched the numbers refresh in disbelief.
Bank notifications came in like a heartbeat. Phones buzzed. Eyes welled.
The little girl lying on a mattress in a quiet apartment in Cyberjaya, fighting a war inside her own body, had touched something deep in the Malaysian soul.
And suddenly, she was no longer fighting alone.
The sad story that started it all
For those who missed the first story, Amanda’s world is one of involuntary movement and constant exhaustion.
She lives with GNAO1 neurodevelopmental disorder, an extremely rare genetic condition that causes severe dystonia – uncontrollable twisting, stiffening and violent spasms brought on by electrical storms in the brain.
Amanda cannot speak. Cannot walk. Cannot play. At times she cannot even rest.
Fed through a tube, supported by oxygen, comforted only by the arms of her mother, Nur Liyana Mohd Safiea, and the quiet strength of her father, Saifol Sujak Sulaiman, she lives in a body that no longer listens to her.
Her parents spend an estimated RM3,000 a month for therapy, equipment, medication and hospital visits.
Every year, the storms inside her body worsen. Every year, the risks rise.
The one hope – not a cure, but a mercy – lies in a deep brain stimulator, a small device implanted in the chest and connected to electrodes in the brain, designed to regulate the electrical chaos that causes her dystonia.
The cost is steep: RM150,000 for the device; RM100,000 for surgery, hospitalisation and post-operative care. Total: RM250,000.
It is money her parents do not have. And until last week, seemed impossible to raise in time.
The team that refused to look away
Amanda’s case found its way to Suriana Welfare Society, where adviser James Nayagam admits the images haunted him.
“I have seen many difficult cases,” he said. “But when we watched Amanda’s videos, we couldn’t sleep. Her suffering was too real. Too raw.

“We did not discuss publicity, or funds, or how hard it would be. We just told her father – register her for surgery. Don’t wait for the money. We will find it.”
The following days were defined by faith and risk.
Suriana committed to a device it could not yet pay for. There was no guarantee of success.
There was only trust in the goodness of people most had never met.
And Malaysia answered.
“This response has been extraordinary,” Nayagam said. “Not because of the amount alone, but because of who it came from – Malaysians of every race, every background, all united by a simple belief: no child should suffer this way.”
A father finds his voice
Saifol is not a man of many words. Years of watching his child suffer have made him quiet, precise, careful.
But when asked how he feels about what Malaysians have done for his daughter, his voice trembles.
“I don’t know how to thank them,” he said. “These are people who have never met us. Yet they opened their hearts and their wallets for my child.
“I wish I could go to each person and say this: you are now part of Amanda’s life. You are part of her story.”
He paused, looking at his daughter, whose small chest rose unevenly with each breath.
“All we ever wanted was for her to rest, just to stop hurting. Now, for the first time in years, I believe that might happen.”
FMT’s humanity
At FMT, the team did not anticipate the scale of the reaction.
Executive chairman Nelson Fernandez said the story reaffirmed what journalism is meant to do.
“We don’t publish stories just to inform. We publish them to ignite conscience,” he said.
“Amanda’s story was painful to read, but even more powerful was the response. It proved that compassion in Malaysia is not conditional on race or religion. It is simply human.”
“If this little girl finds peace after years of pain, then the story has done its job, not as a piece of journalism, but as a bridge between suffering and kindness.”
The two Amandas – pain and progress
There is something almost poetic, and heartbreaking, about the fact that FMT has now told the stories of two girls named Amanda.
Amanda Mei Chu, 29: abandoned at birth, born with HIV, denied treatment due to citizenship complications, was once wheeled into hospital weighing just 22kg.

After her story was published, support poured in, her treatment resumed, her hospital bill was waived, and today she is walking daily, growing stronger, heavier, more hopeful.
Now there is Dhia Amanda, six – born Malaysian, surrounded by love, yet imprisoned in a body turned against her.
One Amanda is learning to walk again and may be a Malaysian citizen soon. The other may finally learn what stillness feels like.
Together, their stories reveal the full spectrum of this nation’s moral landscape – its failures, yes – but also its extraordinary capacity for empathy and action.
In their shared name lives a shared message: No one is too small. No one is too invisible. No one is beyond hope.
And the race is not over
Despite the surge of generosity, the full RM250,000 has not yet been reached.
The surgery on December 16 draws nearer. Time, as always, is merciless.
Amanda does not know of donations or deadlines. She only knows the storms inside her.
But today, Malaysia knows her.
And Malaysia is moving.
How you can help
Donate to Suriana Welfare Society Malaysia, RHB Bank 21403500165118, reference: Dhia Amanda. All cash donations are tax-exempt.
Share this message with your networks. Sponsor or partner with Suriana to sustain Amanda’s medical care.
For details, contact 012-211 4444 (Rachel Ho), 017-755 8022 (Mary Rufina) or 1300-88-2200 (Anthony Ammah).