A Reflection On 3 Years In A Malaysian Generic Pharma Sales Company

This month, August 2025, marks the third year I’m with this local generic company. It has been an invigorating roller coaster ride—but if there’s one lesson I’d like to share with others, it’s this:

 

“The players change. The game stays the same.”

 

When I first got into this industry, I thought product knowledge would be the make-or-break factor. I’d read every PI sheet cover to cover. I memorised dosages, side effects, contraindications. I studied like a preacher studies scripture.

But reality hit fast—this game isn’t just about what you know.

It’s about how you adapt.

People come and go. But the pressure to perform never leaves.

Over the years, I’ve worked with four (actually, I’ve lost count) different Product Managers. Each had their own style. One was overly optimistic, another drilled us with numbers, the next preferred market intelligence over relationship-building.

The latest? 

A hybrid of all three—but with KPI dashboards that make your eyes hurt.

Sales managers change too. Some ride the waves with you, some want quick wins.

And the customers?

Don’t get me started. MOH buyers rotate. Pharmacists retire. Doctors move to private. Clinics get new locums. One day you’re welcomed like a long-lost cousin, next day you’re asked, “You from which company again?”

The faces change. The expectations don’t.

 

The brand doesn’t carry you. You carry the brand.

Being in a local generic company means you’re not selling magic pills. You’re selling confidence. You’re asking the customer to trust your brand, your team, your back-end, your service. Even when your product is chemically equivalent to the originator, they’ll still ask, “Is this as good?”

Sometimes the brand name doesn’t open doors.

But your face does.

That’s why we say in this game: you’re not a sales rep—you’re the face of the brand, the brand promise, and the problem-solver in one shirt.

 

Out-of-stock, out-of-mind.

One hard lesson I’ve learned?

Inventory trumps loyalty.

You could be the most charming rep in town. But if your product’s out of stock when the doctor wants it—game over. They’ll switch. Maybe temporarily, maybe permanently.

And the worst part?

They might not even tell you. You only find out when your sales tank.

And you’ll ask the usual suspects:

• Warehouse ada stock tak?
• System ada glitch?
• APPL contract kena tarik balik ke?

Then you trace, trace, trace—only to find your competitor just swooped in during your blind spot.

 

Competitor plays dirty? Welcome to the game.

In these three years, I’ve seen:

• Undercutting that makes no business sense.
• “Special deals” whispered behind closed doors.
• Samples that mysteriously look like government supply.
• Claims of BE studies that don’t quite add up.

And yet, we still play.

We remind ourselves—you can’t control the game, but you can control how you show up. Integrity still matters. Service still wins. And people still talk. Eventually, it comes back around.

 

Relationship building is still king—especially outside Klang Valley.

Some reps in Klang Valley swear by PowerPoint slides and iPad detailing. But once you step into a Klinik Kesihatan in Pahang, Terengganu, or Kelantan—you better know the staff, the pharmacist, and even the tea lady.

That’s how you get a second chance when your delivery is late.

That’s how they warn you when a competitor is sniffing around.

That’s how they pick up your calls even when they’re swamped.

Three years in, I no longer see relationship-building as a soft skill. It’s the hardest skill to master. Especially when the game throws in transfers, sudden resignations, or “surat tukar tempat bertugas.”

 

Government tender is not a level playing field.

You think you got the best price? You think your packaging beats everyone else? You think your BE study wins the day?

Wait until the tender is awarded.

Sometimes, the math doesn’t math.

But this is where you learn one thing fast: strategy is not just pricing. It’s positioning. It’s timing. It’s connections. It’s knowing who to ask and what to ask.

 

Private hospitals: The elusive dream or the unpredictable trap?

Some reps love chasing private. Especially the bigger chains. It’s faster, more flexible, less red tape.

But it’s also tougher. One doctor loyal to a brand can shut you down. One purchasing manager convinced by your competitor can blacklist your product—quietly.

Private hospitals want consistency. But they’re not shy to switch.

Especially when:

• Your product is the 6th generic.
• Your MOQ is too high.
• Your delivery isn’t lightning-fast.
• Or they just "feel" safer with originator brands.

 

In this space, service speed and presence count more than brochures.

 

The illusion of control.

Let me say it plainly.

In this job, 50% of things are out of your control. Sometimes the distributor fails you. Sometimes HQ drops the ball. Sometimes MOH announces a sudden circular that affects your entire strategy.

The real players learn to surf chaos.

You show up, adapt, smile through the madness, and still hit your numbers—or die trying.

 

What’s changed in three years?

Not the stress. Not the goals. Not the need to prove yourself every single quarter.

But I’ve changed.

* I’ve learned not to panic when things go sideways.

* I’ve developed a sixth sense about red flags.

* I’ve grown immune to the roller coaster.

Most importantly?

 

I’ve learned that if I stay ready, I don’t have to get ready.

 

So, to the new reps joining this industry...

Welcome to the jungle.

Here’s what I’d tell you:

1. Don’t get too attached to your wins. Or your losses.
2. Don’t burn bridges. This industry is small.
3. Don’t assume your product is king. You are.
4. Don’t gossip. The walls have ears.
5. Don’t slack on reporting. Your boss isn’t a mind reader.

Most of all—learn fast, move faster.

Because even when players change—the game stays the same.

 

Final Thoughts

Three years ago, I was wide-eyed and optimistic. Today, I’m still optimistic—but with a few battle scars. And I wear them proudly.

Every rep will walk their own path. But if this write-up finds you on a low day, remember—we’re all figuring it out. We just don’t always show it.

See you at the next CME, sales meeting, or pharmacy corridor. We’re all in the same game, just playing different levels.

 

Disclaimer:

This blog post reflects personal experience and opinion from the perspective of a medical sales rep in Malaysia. It is not an official view of any company or regulatory body. Any resemblance to real-life persons or organisations is purely coincidental (unless it’s obviously about you—then maybe it’s time to buy me coffee 😉).