Suresh and his story on palm oil mill

"I was rejected for an engineering job five times… and ended up transforming palm oil mill operations in my region."

My name is Suresh Kumar. I was born and raised in a small estate town in Perak, Malaysia. From a young age, I loved machines—not just the noise and motion, but the way they could transform raw materials into something valuable.

After graduating with a degree in mechanical engineering, I had one goal:

To work in a palm oil mill and make it safer, more efficient, and more sustainable.

But reality hit hard. My job applications were rejected five times.

They told me:

“You don’t have enough experience.”

“We’re looking for someone older.”

“Maybe try another industry.”

Many would have taken the hint. I didn’t.

While waiting for the next opportunity, I worked as a part-time technician at a workshop, learning how to repair pumps, service boilers, and troubleshoot conveyor systems. Every night, I studied mill process diagrams and read technical manuals until the pages turned yellow.

On my sixth application, I finally got my chance—as a cadet engineer at a remote palm oil mill deep in Sabah. The work was tough: 12-hour shifts, unpredictable breakdowns, and equipment that looked like it hadn’t been serviced in years.

I noticed something troubling:

Every time the boiler tripped or the sterilizer cycle failed, production stopped, and losses mounted. But the solutions were always temporary—patchwork repairs to get things moving again.

I had an idea: What if we modernized the process control system, tracked downtime in real-time, and trained operators to spot issues before they caused breakdowns?

At first, nobody believed it would work.

“Too expensive.”

“Too complicated.”

“It’s always been done this way.”

I didn’t argue. I built a small pilot system using whatever sensors and software I could find. I trained one shift team. Slowly, the data proved itself: downtime dropped, maintenance became proactive, and fuel efficiency improved.

Within two years, the mill’s output increased by 18%, and operating costs dropped significantly. The company rolled out my system across all its mills.

Today, engineers from other plantations visit to learn from our setup. And I still remind the young cadets:

A rejection letter is not the end—it’s an invitation to sharpen your skills, rethink your approach, and come back stronger.

The moral?

A “no” doesn’t mean you’re unworthy. In the palm oil mill—or anywhere else—it simply means the world is asking, “How badly do you want this?”

— Suresh Kumar