Pocket Money in Reverse

When we were small, our parents gave us pocket money. Now that we’re working, the money goes the other way. I still don’t know what to call it. Some people call it support. Some call it 回报, like we’re paying back what our parents spent raising us. I think for many families it’s both, which is why it’s so hard to talk about.

I do understand where that expectation comes from. In some families, the father was the main earner while the mother stayed home, or worked part-time while the kids were at school to help with the family finances. In 1982, female labour-force participation in Malaysia was 44.5%; by 1990, it was 47.8%. That one-income setup was real for some families, but it wasn’t the whole story. When the kids started earning, that extra salary could matter a lot.

I also think money felt different then. The 80s weren’t a smooth boom: Malaysia’s output averaged 6¾% growth a year in 1980–84, then contracted by 1% in 1985. From what I hear, if you were diligent and 忍一忍, opening a small shop wasn’t impossible. You could save up, buy a house, maybe another shop to rent out. I don’t know how easy it really was. I can see why people believed it was possible.

For many of us in corporate jobs or SMEs, a salary can feel claimed before we decide what to do with it: tax, if it applies, then family. What’s left goes to rent or a loan, transport, and everything else it takes to build a life. In 2020, Malaysia’s median house price was 4.7 times the median annual household income. From 2014 to 2020, house prices grew at a compound annual rate of 4.1%, while income grew 2.1%. The house our parents saved for feels like a bus we’re running after, and it seems to keep pulling away.

People say we can’t save because we spend too much on coffee and hotpot. Maybe some of us do. But when someone says the money we give our parents is nothing, I think about where it comes from: the chicken thigh we skip at the chap fan stall; the bus or LRT we take instead of calling a Grab; the supplement we leave in the cart for a week, thinking about whether we really need it. Small amounts, saved through small sacrifices.

Those savings aren’t for luxuries. They could become our first shares and start paying dividends. They could give us the 底气 to leave a job that’s destroying our mental health. They could help us avoid working our whole lives just to spend our pay on medical bills.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t give our parents money. I really don’t have the answer. Is pocket money in reverse support, repayment, or obligation? Maybe it depends on the family.

I keep thinking about one difference. Our parents chose to have us. Maybe some had time to plan and save a little before we needed a single diaper or tin of milk powder. For us, it can feel like there’s no getting ready. By the first payday, we’re already behind, while still expected to build our own lives, plan our own families, and become independent. I wonder how much of what we earn is still ours to decide.