What my wife doesn’t know is that I lost my job six weeks ago. I’ve applied to 53 jobs and been rejected from all of them. We have RM7,240 in savings, not the RM14,000 she thinks. The plumber is in our bathroom right now and I’m too scared to open the bank app.

My wife looks up from her laptop. “Can you pay the plumber? I’m on a call.”

He’s standing in the hallway waiting for RM450. I look at the bill for longer than I should and nod. “Alright.”

The Start Of It All

I showed up to work one Monday morning and the door was padlocked. The lights were off. The security guard told me the boss had run off over the weekend, and that was it.

I was a sales coordinator earning RM5,200 a month. The company owed me about two and a half months of salary, which I’ll probably never see.

When I got home that day, my wife was sitting at the dining table. She looked exhausted. Someone at her company had quit and she was covering two roles, and she was already stretched thin. I told myself I’d tell her the next day, once I had some kind of plan.

The next morning, I sat at the dining table with my laptop open. She left for work at 8am, assuming I was working from home like usual. I wasn’t. I was refreshing Jobstreet and trying not to panic.

In the first week, I sent out about 15 applications and got one rejection email. I spent too much time rewriting my CV, tweaking the same lines again and again.

By the second week, I’d applied to another 27 jobs. I got two interviews, both of which ended in rejections. One said I was underqualified. The other said they couldn’t meet my asking salary.

Every evening, she came home tired and we sat across from each other at the dining table, both on our laptops before dinner. Sometimes she asked why I was still working so late. I said it was a busy period, and she didn’t push.

Our monthly expenses come to RM5,890. This includes the housing loan, two car loans, utilities, groceries, and the RM400 I send my parents every month. My wife earns RM3,200. She doesn’t know she’s our only income now.

We started with RM14,000 in our joint savings account. By week four, it was RM9,660. By week six, it was RM7,240.

By then, I’d applied to 53 jobs and gone for three interviews. All of them ended in rejections.

I’m stuck in the middle. I’m too experienced for RM3,000 admin roles, but not experienced enough for management. I don’t really want to go back into full sales either. I tell myself I’ll apply anyway, then hesitate and don’t.

I thought about borrowing money from friends. Maybe RM2,000 from two people, but it wouldn’t last long.

I thought about telling my mum, but she would call my wife immediately.

I even thought about telling my wife’s parents but her dad already thinks she married down.

So I told no one.

I Knew I Was In Trouble 

Then everything started happening at the same time.

The bathroom tap broke and my wife called a plumber. It cost RM450. 

The vet sent a reminder about our cat’s check-up. That was another RM320.

Her company gave out bonuses around the same time. She got RM1,500 and was excited, talking about finally replacing our washing machine. It would cost RM1,800, and she suggested topping it up with RM300 from our savings.

When I suggested we wait a bit, she looked at me strangely.

Saturday morning, the plumber came.

I paid him RM450 cash from my wallet, money I’d been keeping for emergencies without really knowing what counted as an emergency anymore.

That night, my phone buzzed with a bank notification. Our housing loan payment was due in three days. RM1,850.

I went over the numbers again. RM7,240 in the account. After the loan, RM5,390 left. The two car loans were due the following week, RM1,670 combined. Then groceries, utilities, and petrol.

No matter how many times I added it up, it didn’t work.

I found my wife in the bedroom folding laundry. I stood there for a bit before speaking.

“I need to tell you something.”

I told her everything. That the company had shut down. That I hadn’t been working. That I’d been applying for jobs but nothing had worked out. That we were almost out of money.

She didn’t say anything at first. She sat on the bed holding a t-shirt and cried quietly.

When she stopped, she asked why I hadn’t told her sooner.

I said I thought I’d find something quickly.

She said it had been six weeks, and that we could have dealt with this six weeks ago instead of being nearly broke now.

She was right, and that was the hardest part to hear.

Trying To Figure It Out

She opened her laptop and started a new Excel sheet. She asked to see our bank balance, my EPF, and my Jobstreet account.

She asked if I could do customer service or admin work. I said I probably could, but the pay would be around RM2,800.

She asked if we could afford pride right now.

That stayed with me.

On Monday, she called the bank and explained our situation. They offered to restructure the loan, extending it from 30 to 35 years. The monthly payment dropped from RM1,850 to RM1,480. It meant more interest in the long run, but we needed some breathing room.

She helped me file for an EPF Account 2 withdrawal. I’d already submitted a Labour Department claim a few weeks earlier, which worked as proof. The withdrawal took about ten working days to process.

I had around RM30,000 in that account. If we were careful, it could give us about six months.

She also changed how I applied for jobs. I stopped limiting myself to sales coordinator roles and applied for everything. This included customer service, admin, and data entry roles. Anything that needed Excel and basic communication skills. Around ten applications a day.

Three weeks later, I got an offer. It was a customer service officer role at a telco, paying RM3,100 a month. It involved shift work and mostly billing complaints.

It was RM2,100 less than what I used to earn, but I accepted immediately.

Now our combined income is RM6,300. With the restructured loan and tighter spending, we’re managing. Not comfortable, but we’re surviving.

I thought lying would protect her from stress. Instead, it made everything worse.

It’s true when they say that the truth always comes out in the end.