For years, a misconception persisted that open and distance learning (ODL) and the sciences did not mix. Many believed that conveying complex scientific concepts required hands-on experiences and close instructor-learner interactions—elements thought to be lacking in ODL. Some questioned the rigour of ODL assessments, while others saw its flexibility as a hindrance to disciplines traditionally bound by structure.
I never shared that view, even though I began my academic journey in conventional on-campus environments, both as a student and an educator. After completing my PhD in Applied Mathematics, I taught at a boarding school and later a local private university. In 2006, I joined OUM as a lecturer, stepping into the world of ODL. I quickly saw how OUM was addressing these misconceptions, employing a blended approach to offer open and distance learners opportunities virtually on par with those in traditional on-campus settings.
What I believe truly humanises scientific teaching and learning at OUM is recognising our role in nurturing learners not only to become technically proficient and knowledgeable, but also ethical, responsible, and well-rounded individuals.
At the Faculty of Technology and Applied Sciences (FTAS), this commitment is especially important because many of our learners—particularly in fields like nursing, occupational safety and health (OSH), and medical and health sciences (MHS)—are actively engaged in their professions. Nurses, for example, must hold a valid annual practising certificate to enrol at OUM.
Making this a requirement is how we ensure learning occurs both online and offline in academic and workplace environments. It provides learners with the opportunity to refine their knowledge through the integration of theory and practice. We further support deeper engagement through our e-learning platform, which promotes critical thinking, self-reflection, and meaningful peer interactions, all of which helps learners better understand the broader implications of their work.
Given the specific demands of scientific teaching, we recognise the need to go beyond the typical online experience. While all courses are delivered fully online, what sets FTAS apart is our commitment to supporting learners beyond their screens. We facilitate clinical placements and lab sessions for essential hands-on experience, and have established skills labs at nine learning centres nationwide. These labs enable nursing and MHS learners to develop real-world proficiency in simulated medical settings, which are essential for honing psychomotor skills, building confidence, and overcoming any fear associated with performing procedures.
Assessment at FTAS is also a uniquely enriching experience. Learners’ assignments and exam scripts often reveal insights into real-world situations that might otherwise go unnoticed. In doing so, they give us the opportunity to learn from them, providing insights that continue to inform and shape future curriculum and assessment practices at the Faculty.
When the Malaysian Qualifications Agency (MQA) began piloting the Accreditation of Prior Experiential Learning for Qualifications (APEL.Q), we saw it as a golden opportunity to democratise access to our qualifications. FTAS learners, in particular, often possess extensive practical knowledge, making them ideal for APEL.Q evaluation and positioning as natural frontrunners for this pathway. MQA shared this view, and as a result, three of OUM’s first four programmes approved for APEL.Q came from FTAS. Fittingly, OUM’s first APEL.Q graduates, who received their scrolls in 2022, were also from FTAS.
Looking ahead, we plan to integrate adaptive learning, artificial intelligence (AI), and virtual labs to create more customised learning pathways. While technology will undoubtedly play an important role, ethical considerations remain our top priority. Above all, our learners’ lived and professional experiences will continue to be at the heart of their journey at FTAS.
Our alumni often reach out to me years after graduation, sometimes just to say hello or to share good news about job opportunities in distant countries. These connections reinforce what I have always known: ODL not only breaks barriers in science and technology, but also celebrates the human endeavour of learning, transcending borders, and nurturing personal growth.
Assoc Prof Dr Raziana Che Aziz is the Dean of the Faculty of Technology and Applied Sciences, OUM.
I still remember the moment I clicked on the link to join my first live e-tutorial at OUM, feeling a mix of amusement and disbelief. After spending over a decade in the workforce, there I was, a learner once again.
Before enrolling in the Master of English Studies (MEST) programme, I was concerned that, without any background in the field, I might be punching above my weight. I feared not only that I might struggle to keep up with the pace of the coursework, given my gruelling work schedule, but also the potential lack of support in a distance learning environment. Even so, I took the plunge—a novice swimmer casting myself into the open sea—surprising myself with my own courage. There were, no doubt, moments of self-doubt and disorientation, but thankfully, support was never far away in this thriving community. With the guidance of the e-tutors, I gradually found my footing and things slowly began to fall into place. It was progress made in fits and starts, but progress nonetheless.
Now, with three semesters behind me, I have come to appreciate distance learning, especially the synchronous e-tutorials, which are not a mode of instruction but also a space of connection. Though recorded for students who cannot attend, I prioritise joining them live whenever my work schedule allows, so as to connect with my peers and be part of the conversation. Learning through dialogue often takes deeper root in my memory and encourages self-reflection. For me, the appeal of the discipline I have chosen to pursue on the side lies in its open-ended nature, where classes often turn into spirited discussions and respectful debates. Extending beyond the study of language, the programme delves into the realms of culture and social sciences. In one lesson, we might discuss the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, exploring the extent to which language shapes one’s perception of reality. In another, we might examine how race is a cultural construct rather than a biological one (did you know that no one is biologically their race?). So exciting are such revelations that I often find myself asking why I did not learn them sooner.
Every semester brings the inevitable assignment—our moment of reckoning. Despite the abundance of online resources and the advent of generative artificial intelligence, the course assignments remain challenging. Yes, ChatGPT can inform, but can it inspire? At their core, the assignments assess not just subject understanding, but also critical thinking, originality, and clarity of expression. I once approached them heedlessly, producing work that missed the mark, until I learned that deep engagement was essential. I’ve endured my share of close reading, navigating the dense jungle of texts before learning to find my way through. When challenges felt overwhelming, the courage to ask for help made all the difference. Thanks to the spirit of generosity that lives here, every question was met with thoughtful guidance, reminding me that distance learning need not be a solitary pursuit and that it can be a collaborative one, enriched by each other’s presence.
I am a telecommunications engineer with a love for words, one who quietly revels in good literature.
Pursuing a degree in English, as foreign to my profession as it may be, remains my aspiration nonetheless. My job makes me a global traveller. While OUM has effectively leveraged technology and facilitated a frictionless education experience, it is the human element that truly illuminates my learning journey. I am grateful that this institution has allowed me to explore a side of myself that I have long cherished but never fully pursued. Who knew that someone working with radio waves might one day write a paper on The Waves by Virginia Woolf.
Lai Lap Kwan is currently pursuing the Master of English Studies programme at OUM.
With the motto “University for All”, OUM welcomes learners from all walks of life, including those with disabilities. To support these learners, the University developed specific guidelines to ensure an educational pathway that accommodates a wide range of challenges—including, but not limited to, physical, visual, hearing, and cognitive impairments.
I was entrusted with writing these guidelines. Having lost my sight at 11, my experience as a visually impaired person—from struggling with schooling and securing postgraduate placements to finding employment—has given me a visceral understanding of the challenges these learners face.
I completed the guidelines in 2012. By then, OUM had also improved campus facilities with accessible restrooms, inclusive prayer rooms, ramps, and relocated classrooms to lower floors. At Menara OUM, our current main campus, lifts are equipped with braille labels and audio annunciators.
A 50% fee discount was introduced, further encouraging candidates with disabilities to enrol, provided they met basic requirements, could demonstrate computer literacy, and had the necessary assistive tools for online learning. Visually impaired learners, for example, had to be familiar with screen readers.
OUM’s shift to fully online delivery since Covid-19 has been particularly beneficial: this approach is inherently accessible, enabling learners to study at home at their own pace, eliminating travel challenges, and reducing costs.
The following two success stories exemplify OUM’s commitment to supporting such learners.
Lim, like me, is visually impaired, classified as B1 (total loss of sight). Having lost his vision due to glaucoma at 20, he is now 41 and works in Penang as an IT instructor for the visually impaired.
He shares, “The sudden change left me navigating a world I had to relearn.”
But relearn he did. He also sought a degree, only to face repeated rejections from institutions claiming they were unequipped to teach IT to the blind.
OUM was the only university that said “yes.” In 2020, Lim enrolled in the Bachelor of IT programme at the Seberang Jaya Learning Centre.
He quickly adapted to the virtual classroom setup, even thriving in technically demanding subjects like mobile programming, Java, MySQL, and C++ thanks to OUM’s flexible structure.
Lim adds, “I had trouble with visually dependent materials like diagrams and flowcharts, but my lecturers were always supportive. With commitment, every challenge became a strength.”
Lim, Malaysia’s first B1-category IT graduate, received his degree at OUM’s 29th Convocation in May 2025.
While Lim navigates a world without sight, Ramdzan, 42, lives in a world without sound.
Born deaf and communicating solely through Malaysian Sign Language, Ramdzan has graduated from OUM three times: first with a Diploma in IT (2014), then a Bachelor of IT (2018), and most recently a Master of Management (2021). He is currently pursuing a PhD (Arts) at OUM.
Rohaizak Omar, Ramdzan’s bachelor’s degree supervisor, shares, “For Ramdzan, the phrase ‘I can’t’ simply did not exist. He welcomed every piece of advice I offered, and while there were challenges in communication, they never stopped me from supporting him.”
I am now Ramdzan’s PhD supervisor, and this is undoubtedly a unique experience for me. A visually impaired supervisor paired with a hearing-impaired learner—surely that’s a challenge. One cannot see and the other cannot hear. But, is this barrier insurmountable?
Ramdzan and I don’t think so. We primarily communicate via email and WhatsApp, with in-person meetings facilitated by his mother as an interpreter.
After 17 years at OUM, and as Programme Director of the Master of Psychology programme, I am well-positioned to guide and counsel learners with disabilities. Having faced similar challenges, I understand their struggles better than most.
Lim and Ramdzan prove that disability does not equal inability, thanks to an academic community that values empathy, respect, and inclusivity. OUM’s human-centred approach ensures that no learner is left behind, making it a truly inclusive place to learn.
Dr Wong Huey Siew is a Senior Lecturer at the Faculty of Social Sciences and Humanities, OUM.
Many claim that generative artificial intelligence (GenAI) will not only make us more efficient and effective, but also allow us to work faster and free up time, democratise knowledge, increase access to educational opportunities, and enrich teachers’ and students’ lives with access to just-in-time personalised support and resources. They claim GenAI will also make us better humans. It is, however, an open question how GenAI will impact on vulnerable individuals in our communities and classrooms, whether it will truly assist them to flourish, make informed choices, and live in enabling environments.
We therefore have to ask: “Will GenAI help us to become more human or will it (further) dehumanise us?” A better question to ask, perhaps, is: “Under what circumstances can it help us to become more human?”
Human vulnerability comes in different forms. Some individuals are inherently vulnerable due to physical or mental disabilities—they have to find ways, often assisted by technology (e.g., screen readers for the visually impaired), to cope with their vulnerabilities. Then there are those individuals who, due to a characteristic or multiple intersecting characteristics (e.g., race, gender, sexual orientation, culture, and/or religion), are vulnerable in a specific context—for example, female students walking back home after dark in a particular neighbourhood. While male students may also be vulnerable in unsafe areas, they are differently vulnerable.
Vulnerabilities are therefore found in the nexus of the intersection of different characteristics, contexts, and moments in time. There are also instances when students who are inherently vulnerable (e.g., due to disabilities) or temporally vulnerable (e.g., because of race, context and/or cultural factors) face new challenges such as unemployment, illness, or political unrest that transform their initial vulnerability into pathogenic vulnerability, resulting in downward spirals where their vulnerability increases exponentially.
How may GenAI ameliorate or exacerbate the different vulnerabilities (some) students face?
For many students studying in their second or third language, translating resources using GenAI allows them access to information in their home languages. Even when their home languages are not supported, GenAI can make the original text more accessible and assist in breaking down difficult passages. GenAI may also assist students with dyslexia and neurodivergence. It is not difficult to think of many examples where GenAI can ameliorate the various vulnerabilities of students— whether inherent, temporal, or pathogenic.
The increasing deployment of GenAI in digital education, unfortunately, also poses a range of risks for vulnerable students. Many of these risks also affect non-vulnerable students, such as, but not limited to, access to GenAI (which depends on access to electricity and affordable connectivity), lack of AI-literacy, the potential for cognitive offloading, and overdependence on GenAI. For vulnerable students studying in their second or third language, or students whose academic foundation and/or prior learning experiences make them less prepared, the danger of cognitive offloading and dependence is very real, and may result in pathogenic vulnerability.
Amid the awe, doubt, and/or fascination surrounding GenAI, and while we applaud what it can do, it is equally important to foreground what it cannot and will never be able to do.
GenAI can translate, calculate, design, compose, and programme. It can create content, set assignments and examination papers, and provide memoranda. GenAI can create syllabi, presentations, and videos. It can explain, guide, and advise. But GenAI will never know hunger. It will never know despair and loss, or lose its citizenship and become an immigrant. It will never be confined in a wheelchair, go blind, have HIV, or lose its employment. GenAI will never get gooseflesh in hearing a melody, will never laugh out loud, will never know the awe of watching a sunset, or smell the dampness of the earth after the first rain.
While we may marvel at GenAI performing certain tasks better than humans, and while it can ameliorate some of the effects of human vulnerabilities, let us embrace being human, becoming human, and allow our students to discover the beauty of their own humanity—with all its flaws, vulnerabilities and potential, its need for slowness and error, the beauty of its imperfections, the miracle of not finding an answer immediately, and celebrate figuring out the answer, or at least part of it.
Paul Prinsloo is an Emeritus Professor in Open and Distance Learning at the University of South Africa (Unisa), a Global Fellow at OUM’s Centre for Digital Education Futures (CENDEF), and a member of OUM’s International Advisory Board (IAB).
Technology is fundamental to the development of education. Imagine what education was like in the days before printing and papermaking were invented. Access to education was a privilege rather than a basic right. Printing and papermaking revolutionised the paradigm of education while subsequent technologies have contributed to making education more and more accessible, efficient, effective, and intriguing.
Educational technologies (EdTech) that have been effectively integrated into education and, to varying extents, have become normalised were never meant to displace human educators in the first place. Rather, they are productivity tools used to improve the learning experience. Human educators and learners are in control of the use of these technologies in education so that education, though technology-mediated, remains fundamentally humanised.
The teaching machine introduced in the 1920s was the first attempt to automate education. However, this ambition did not become mainstream until the emergence of more powerful innovations under the umbrella of digital technology. International organisations such as UNESCO, the OECD, and the World Bank strongly recommend it as an optimal means to achieve equity in quality education and to produce the workforce needed for the digital age.
We are transitioning along the continuum from humanised education to digitalised education. This will inevitably lead to the deprofessionalisation of education and, ultimately, its dehumanisation. Even if deprofessionalised or dehumanised education is not the intended goal of national governments or international organisations, they seem to buy into the commercial EdTech sector’s value propositions such as efficiency and cost-effectiveness.
However, as a defining feature of humankind, education aims at cultivating humanity for the common good. According to Vygotsky’s sociocultural theory, education is social and relational in nature and socioculturally contextualised, whereas the digitalisation of education tends to be decontextualised, making it asocial and solitary. Education devoid of human passion, empathy, warmth, care, and judgment will ultimately do more harm than good to humanity. It is practically unthinkable what we would become if we were taught to be human by machines rather than by other humans.
Even if digitalisation does not dehumanise education, it remains controversial whether it truly serves the common good of society. Given that lack of funding is a major barrier to equitable access to education, it is a curious paradox that digital technology, which is often expensive, is seen as a tool for democratising education and bridging the gap between the rich and the poor. Furthermore, digital technology is likely to cause ethical risks and/or harms because no technology is ideologically or socially neutral. In an era when education is increasingly commercialised and commodified, the ethical risks and harms brought about by digital technologies are more often the result of deliberate design than unintended consequences.
It is time we rethought why we chose to digitalise education. To this end, there are valuable lessons to be learnt from OUM’s 25 years of humanising digital education. OUM places the human rather than technology at the heart of its educational mission and practice. Traditional values such as duty of care and pastoral care remain integral to its approach to digital education. Instead of shutting down local learning centres or downplaying their importance as some other open universities have done, OUM utilises the affordances of digital technology to strengthen in-person social interaction and support for its learners. Bearing in mind the centrality of humanity to education, OUM has successfully leveraged digital technology to break the iron triangle of access, cost, and quality. For OUM, the digitalisation of education is a means, not an end. This is a cardinal lesson from OUM.
Junhong Xiao is an Emeritus Professor at the Open University of Shantou, a Global Fellow at OUM’s Centre for Digital Education Futures (CENDEF), and a member of OUM’s International Advisory Board (IAB).
Dr Malik Yatam
Malik Yatam is a high achiever by any measure, having earned a BBA, MBA, and PhD in Business Administration within 15 years—all while incarcerated at Kajang Prison.
Among the first prisoners to enrol at OUM, Malik registered in 2009, shortly after the University signed a landmark agreement with the Prisons Department. While nearly 30 inmates have since graduated from OUM, Malik stands out as the first to complete three consecutive degrees, and the first in Malaysia to earn a PhD while behind bars.
For Malik, education was more than a path to knowledge—it became a form of atonement. Detained under a royal discretionary order at age 15 in 2001, he began his undergraduate studies at 23. By 2024, he had completed his PhD thesis.
Born into poverty in Kota Marudu, Malik dropped out of school at 13. By the time he entered prison, he was nearly illiterate. It was there that he embraced Islam, and with it, the belief that education could be his path to redemption.
“I had to relearn how to read, write, and count,” he recalls. “When the time was right, I petitioned to sit for my Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia (Malaysian Certificate of Education) and Sijil Tinggi Persekolahan Malaysia (Malaysian Higher School Certificate) exams.”
Studying behind bars came with immense challenges. “I studied in a crowded cell, without writing materials. Books were a privilege—my parents couldn’t afford any, so I borrowed what I could and used my zakat money to pay for exam fees.”
Despite these hardships, Malik passed both exams in 2005 and 2007, making him eligible to study at OUM.
“OUM was the only university offering such an opportunity to prison inmates. It was my chance to change my life, so I took it,” Malik says.
However, enrolment was just the first hurdle.
“Our study sessions in prison were scheduled, but they weren’t always a given,” he explains. “Classes could be cancelled if there weren’t enough prison staff, if a fight broke out, or if someone misbehaved. Computer and internet access was limited. I had little money, but I was fortunate that OUM awarded me a scholarship.”
Malik’s perseverance paid off. He graduated with his BBA in 2014 and enrolled in the MBA programme the following year, supported again by a kind-hearted benefactor. Twice he was given leave to attend his convocation, though it was only when he received his master’s degree that his family could attend, having saved enough for the trip to Kuala Lumpur.
In 2018, Malik began his six-year PhD journey. He was overjoyed when OUM awarded him another scholarship, reducing his fees to just 10%. He completed his thesis in 2024, and graduated alongside 13 other doctoral recipients at OUM’s 29th Convocation in May 2025.
No one could have predicted this outcome, but his determination to transform himself—from an illiterate prisoner to Dr Malik—has rewritten his story. In recognition of his achievement, DYMM Sultan Sharafuddin Idris Shah granted him a pardon in conjunction with the Selangor ruler’s 79th birthday. He was released on 11 December 2024, after 23 years behind bars.
Reflecting on this, Malik says, “God had granted me my deepest wish: to return home and lead my mother in prayer.”
Now free, Malik is focused on making up for lost time with his family and using his PhD to launch a business. And he knows all too well that had it not been for OUM, none of this would have been possible.
He shares, “OUM never looked down on me. Not once did I experience disrespect or discrimination. Everyone was generous with their knowledge, advice, encouragement, and assistance. All I can say is thank you.”
Malik’s story serves as a powerful reminder that education, when made accessible to all, can pave the way to liberation for those who seek it. Even from within prison walls, knowledge can offer the opportunity to rewrite one’s future.
Dr Malik Yatam would like to convey his deepest appreciation to DYMM Sultan of Selangor, Selangor Pardons Board, Malaysian Prisons Department, Dato’ Dr Hartini Zainudin, everyone at OUM, and all parties who have supported him through the years.
Tengku Amina Munira is a Manager at the OUM President’s Office, and an Assistant Editor of inspired.
inspired is OUM’s not-for-profit popular journal on the 3Ps – practice, policy and philosophy – of open, distance, and digital higher education (ODDE). Published three times a year, it engages global scholars, policymakers, practitioners, learners, and other stakeholders, as well as a general readership seeking the latest insights and perspectives on ODDHE.
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