A woman should never have to call the police from her hotel room

I WAS in Kuala Lumpur on a two-day business trip, the kind of routine outstation journey countless Malaysians make every week. It was supposed to be uneventful: a meeting the next morning, one night in a modest hotel near KL Sentral. Instead, it became one of the most frightening nights of my life.

At 11.20 pm on Nov 11, 2025, a man knocked on my door claiming he needed to “check my room card”. I immediately told him I was inside and would not open the door. He persisted, knocking again, repeating that he had to enter. I said no several times.