Year: 2008

I arrived home in the evening to the sound of my daughter Fazira and stepdaughter Iqa quarreling with the maid. The two girls were pointing out how stupid it was for her to agree to the price of the durians she’d bought for my stepson. Apparently, a lorry laden with durian came by the house and offered to sell some durians. My stepson, Alim, immediately jumped with joy and called for my maid. She asked for three. The guy on the lorry took the opportunity to con her by charging, what was it? RM170 for all three durians supposedly based on his weigh? I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard of the ridiculous amount she had paid for the durians. The problem was, she herself felt that it was overpriced, but paid anyhow.

When asked why did she pay that much when she knew it was overpriced, she gave Alim’s craving for the durian as a reason. I told her that she could have waited for me to come back home before making stupid decisions like that. I also told her how dangerous it was for her to even go out for a peek; the man could have held Alim at knifepoint and his cohorts could have rushed into the house to do harm, and that is not something that has never been experienced by this family. It was only 3 years ago this month that our previous house was broken into by 4 Indonesian men armed with a crowbar, parangs and knives at around 5.45am. Has she forgotten that experience? Furthermore, just three nights ago there was an attempt to break into my daughter’s friend’s house.

She knew these.

Bloody simple common sense, and even that she was not capable of thinking.

How can I ever leave my children alone and not worry?

This time Rina sings a sad malay song; but Aiz steals the limelight…yet again!

Rina sang a sad song at Lima Puluh Satu, but it wasn’t Rina who was the star attraction. It was the background dancer – Aiz!

He’s bringing two bottles of this tonight and we’re gonna whack them together.

This is a dedication to all the teachers, retired teachers, teachers whom have passed on…may God bless you for your tireless effort and dedication. My teachers from Primary through Secondary schools(forgive me if there are those whom I have left out):

SK St John’s (1)

Darjah 1 Kuning – Mrs Rahim (I had to excel because she was my mother’s college-mate at the Teachers Training College in Kota Bharu)
Darjah 2 Kuning – I cannot remember her name or how she looked like, but my friends and I called her Cikgu Dayang Bunting because she was pregnant for most of the year and was then on maternity leave.
Darjah 3 Merah – Puan Sharifah Zainab (garang gila…pukul kepala orang with her high-heels)
Darjah 4 Merah – Tengku Sharifah Nor (probably the best primary school teacher I had)
Darjah 5 Merah – Mr Yap (funny but strict – cool guy)
Darjah 6 Merah – Mr Tan Kham Peng (did not teach us much because we had sat for our Assessment Exams the previous year)

Malay College Kuala Kangsar

Mr Amirthalingam
Ustaz Rahman
Ustaz Md Yusof Ismail (Allahyarham – my Ahmad House foster father – maybe I was setan, but I scored A1 in my Agama Islam subject for both SRP and SPM, tulis Jawi lagi, okay?)
Cikgu Mustapha (Arts)
Cikgu Mustafa Ishak
Mr Leong Chee Seng(Add Maths)
Mr Loh Teik Sze (Mod Maths)
Cikgu Sazali (Gary Gnu)
Cikgu Rahim Buszhak
Mr Pang
Mr Ooi (Biology)
Mr “ABU” Toh Ah Huat (Chemistry)
Alamak…I forgot the Physics teacher’s name
Mr Tony Ng (Mod Maths)
Mr Tan (Md Maths)
Mr Nadarajah
Mr Purushotnam Panicker (PE)
Cikgu Wahab Pirate (Allahyarham – he looked like Mat Sentul in the movie ‘Mat Lanun’ and had one eye sepet – very the lanun)

Royal Latin Grammmar School

Mrs Metcalf – somewhat racist: asked me where I learnt English. My reply was: “On the plane on the way here.”

Mr Creasy – strict guy, very devout Christian; used to say very English stuff like, “I would like to see your assignments handed in to me by four o’clock prompt.” And I would go, “Is that a C prompt he’s talking about?”

Mr Tad Newton – very cool and fun guy who taught us Geography, Geology and Meterology; great jazz player with his own jazz band that played at the Swindon and Marlborough Jazz Festivals. He and I would always bump into each other in the Ladies and I’d go, Oh, shit, Mr Newton. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you go to the Ladies too!”