Sarawak's Bold Move: A Glimmer of Hope in Malaysia's Education Landscape
Reading the recent news that Sarawak is introducing standardised assessments for Year Six students under the Dual Language Programme (DLP)—based on international benchmarks from Cambridge University Press and Assessment—fills me with mixed emotions. On one hand, I am genuinely thrilled for Sarawak. On the other, I feel disheartened by the lack of similar initiatives across the rest of Malaysia.
As someone who has long advocated for a checkpoint-style exam at the end of primary school, I find this a significant and commendable move. However, at the national level, Malaysia chose to abolish the Ujian Pencapaian Sekolah Rendah (UPSR) without implementing a robust alternative. While UPSR had flaws—most notably how it led to an overly exam-oriented education system where students focused more on mastering test-taking techniques than truly understanding what they were learning—its complete removal without a solid structural replacement was, in my view as a former educator, a significant policy misstep.
Instead of abolishing UPSR, the government could have restructured its purpose and weight. For example, a 50-50 split between UPSR results and school-based assessments would have balanced standardisation with flexibility. Now, with a system that relies almost entirely on school-based assessments, the quality and rigor of evaluations vary widely. Schools craft their own exam papers, often adjusting the difficulty to “help” their students. The inconsistency across schools makes it impossible to measure student progress on an equal playing field where it lacks a benchmark for their children's learning developments and no transparent gauge to measure children's achievements.
Why We Still Need A Standardised National Examination
Post-pandemic, attempts were made to introduce standardised question banks (Ujian Akhir Sesi Akademik UASA) for states , which would then be disseminated to districts. However, the execution was flawed, leading to widespread question leakages. The staggered timing of exams across different schools within the same district or different states (with same questions banks) created opportunities for unwanted incidents, proving that the abolished UPSR was, ironically, more secure in its implementation (UPSR had its fair share of leakages..sigh). This raises serious concerns about the integrity of some educators, a disheartening thought when our collective goal should be national progress. The government scraped this practice after 2 years of implementing.
As for now, the responsibility of crafting examination UASA questions has shifted heavily onto teachers. While educators previously referred to the Jadual Spesifikasi Ujian (JSU) to ensure a balanced distribution of question difficulty, recent guidelines require teachers to delve deeper—scrutinizing whether each word in an exam question aligns precisely with curriculum standards and appears in the official textbooks.
While teachers are committed to delivering quality assessments, this level of technical precision adds considerable strain, particularly on top of their existing instructional responsibilities. It's not about teachers shirking their roles—rather, it's about recognizing the need for a dedicated, central body to support the development of fair, consistent, and curriculum-aligned assessments, especially at critical transition points like Year 6.
From Year 1 to Year 5, school-based assessments work reasonably well due to their formative nature. However, Year 6 marks a crucial checkpoint before students enter secondary school. Without a standardised national framework, there’s greater risk of manipulation or inconsistency in how assessments are designed and administered. This is why a national standardised exam—or at least a centrally moderated assessment system—is essential to ensure equity and uphold the integrity of student evaluation.
Incidents like these raise concerns not just about planning, but about integrity within the system. I truly want to see Malaysia move forward, but not at the expense of fairness and credibility. Which brings me back to Sarawak’s move under the DLP—it’s not just a breath of fresh air, it’s a potential blueprint for others to follow.
Revisiting Curriculum Reform
To be fair, Malaysia has undergone curriculum reformed. In 2011, the move toward a standard-based curriculum was a step in the right direction. However, implementation was inconsistent. Teachers often received mixed messages from district and state-level officers.
In 2017, with the help of Cambridge Assessment and the British Council, Malaysia introduced CEFR (Common European Framework of Reference) standards, especially for English subject. But even then, we faced issues. Textbooks across different years lacked consistency, as if chosen by different individuals based on personal preference rather than alignment with a cohesive curriculum.
Some may think I’m overly supportive of Cambridge’s involvement—but that’s not the point. What I value is their systematic approach. Their frameworks are structured, consistent, and scalable. These are principles our system could benefit from, regardless of the source- not to replicate blindly, but to adopt strategically.
Cultural Context Matters
Back in university and early in my teaching career, there was a lot of talk about adopting the Finnish model of education—minimal exams, high autonomy, and a trust-based system. But what many fail to understand is that such a system is deeply rooted in cultural values that are not necessarily transferrable.
Nordic countries operate on high levels of institutional trust, societal equity, and disciplined civic norms. Their public education systems work because the public trusts them. Can we say the same in our context?
In Finland, trust is a national trait. Teachers are respected, well-trained, and supported by a system that assumes their competence and integrity. Their societal values allow for less oversight and more autonomy. In contrast, Malaysia’s socio-educational culture is different. Blindly importing foreign systems without considering cultural fit leads to failure. If Finland’s model were truly successful here, we wouldn’t see the growing trend of parents moving their children to private schools. That fact alone is telling.
Sarawak’s initiative to adopt a standardised, internationally benchmarked assessment for DLP students is bold, strategic, and commendable. It shows foresight, especially in a time when the national system seems to be moving in circles.
Malaysia doesn’t need to copy Finland or Cambridge wholesale. But we do need to learn with intention—to localise what works and discard what doesn’t. I sincerely hope the rest of Malaysia watches closely—and learns. Because without a strong, consistent, and credible national assessment system, we risk failing the very children we are trying to empower.