My name is Nitha Raghu, and today, I want to talk about Senthil Annai.

I spent 2.5years in Malaysia, studying dentistry at International Medical University, (IMU).

In the bustling, lively canteen near the university—a mamak stall that served as more than just a place to eat—I spent countless hours with my friends. For us, it wasn’t just a canteen; it was a refuge, a space where we could take a break from the stress of exams and the homesickness that comes with studying far from home. There, we met two remarkable people, Muthu Annai and Senthil Annai, migrant workers from Tamil Nadu, India. They were our constant supporters, tirelessly dedicated to making sure we were well-fed and well-cared for. In Tamil, “Annai” means elder brother, and they insisted we call them this, addressing each of us in return as “thambi” (younger brother) or “thangachi” (younger sister). They saw us not as customers, but as family, making sure we ate well during exams and even preparing a special Deepavali thali for us when some of us couldn’t go home for the holidays. They were there for every exam failure, even helping some of us by talking us through personal struggles.

Recently, we received heart-wrenching news. Senthil Annai was found dead at the canteen under what we were initially told were “mysterious circumstances.” Though authorities reported it as a suicide, Muthu Annai confided in us his doubts, saying that details just didn’t seem to add up. What’s even more disheartening is that after years of loyalty and service, neither the university nor the canteen owner provided any support for his funeral costs. In a profound act of kindness, Muthu Annai used his savings to send Senthil’s body home to his family in Nagapattinam, Tamil Nadu, determined to honor his friend in the only way he could. For this, he was unthinkably fired, left jobless after shouldering these expenses alone.

Senthil Annai leaves behind a wife and young daughter in Tamil Nadu. He left India with dreams of a better life, but in the end, he returned only as cargo, beneath the plane that once held his hopes. His family, whom he worked so hard to provide for, now face unimaginable grief and hardship without him.

Migrant workers like Senthil and Muthu Annai endure long, grueling days, often working 12-hour shifts, living far from their families under conditions that are difficult to describe. Their sacrifices and hard work go largely unrecognized, and it is heartbreaking to see the way they are treated by the very people they serve so faithfully. This Deepavali, as we celebrate light, unity, and compassion, we are painfully reminded of how little compassion was extended to Senthil Annai in his passing, or to Muthu Annai, who showed us what true brotherhood looks like.

Though my friends and I are no longer in Malaysia, our commitment to honoring Senthil Annai’s memory remains unwavering. We have started a fundraiser to support his family during this devastating time. Any help, whether through a donation, advice, or even just sharing this story, would be immensely appreciated.

Thank you for taking the time to hear Senthil Annai’s story. It means everything to us that we might be able to give back to someone who gave so much, asking for nothing in return.