Hatred Makes People Forget

Hatred makes people forget who they are.

Yesterday, two employees walked out of our office. Soon after, one of them shared an image celebrating online aggression—alongside the caption:

"I did a right things as a Cambodian daughter"

It's hard to put into words how surreal and painful that moment was—not because of the disruption to work, but because it reminded me how quickly nationalism can turn into exclusion, and how easily dignity can be abandoned when someone decides you're the "other."

My wife and daughter are Thai nationals.
We've lived together in Cambodia for many years.
My daughter has only ever called this country home.

But because of what's happening now—because of the mood in the streets, on social media, and even inside some workplaces—my family left for Thailand this morning. Not because we want to, but because it no longer feels safe for them to stay.

I am not going with them.

I have responsibilities here: a business, a team, customers, and commitments I take seriously.

Cambodia is our life.

But this situation has forced us to split.

Still, I don't want to speak from anger. I want to speak from care.

Let's not forget our humanity in times of crisis.
Let's not reduce people to their passports.
Let's not celebrate harm done to neighbors, colleagues, or friends just because a geopolitical situation inflames emotion.

Most of our Cambodian friends, clients, and colleagues have been kind, measured, and supportive. I'm deeply grateful for that. I hope their voices remain strong—and that those who stoke division are not allowed to define the spirit of this place.

Because hatred does crazy things to people.
But compassion can still hold the line.