Back, in 1956, I walked out my house not to be a runaway. I walked for a future that I had no idea.
It was early in the morning about 5 o'clock, my older brother and I had our bath. A few buckets of water were too much to make us shivering. Water from the well was very cold.
Not much a do with our school uniform. Simple, a blue short and a white short sleeve shirt. Mine was inherited from my brother since it was still all right according to my father.. And my brother who was eight had a brand new one not because he was privileged but rather he had to give up his old one for the sake of mine.
My father was very calculative as far as money was concerned.
We were on foot and reached school at about 7.45 am. The morning journey for a distant of 1.6 kilometer, took us 30 minutes.
I registered myself as one of the new intakes for standard one, in the Malay school.
I was taught in the school for almost my entire primary education except for two year break. My family and I had to follow my father who had been transferred to the northern region. He was in the security service.
Malay language was a medium of instruction. English was only introduced when I was in standard six. I humbly would note that I was a bit better off than other students as far as English was concerned. My English teacher, with apology, I could not remember his name,was accused of being biased, praising me whenever I correctly answered questions asked. But it could not be help because no body other than I would dare to put up hand when questioned asked.
We were to sit a examination for admission to secondary education. Altogether 20 of us from our school. It was in 1961.
Did all of us prepared for the examination? The answer was a big NO. I would say with the highest certainty that we did not see the importance and significance of the examination in shaping up our future. As I said, I walked for a future that I had no idea. So did my other friends, their parents and mine included.
I was fortunate enough. In fact there were two of us, my peer a girl and myself, a boy. We somehow managed to get through for admission to secondary level . We passed the secondary level intake examination. Out of 20 pupils from our school, only two of us cleared the bar, certainly not with a flying colour, but suffice to meet the minimum standard required.
Eighteen others failed. Not because we were better off rather they were unfortunate. I also struggled to answer many questions. But luck was with me. I got through.
My unfortunate friends, not only failed to enter for secondary education, they were gone as far as aspiring for higher level of education. Their education stop the moment they received the result. Then, they were only good to be recruited as child labour and received low and unreasonable wage. And they were for good became marginalised citizen.
I said I was fortunate in the scheme, managed to get through the examination. Frankly I was an average student. I guessed, my other friend, that girl, was better than me based on the class performances.
My English teacher came to my house, congratulating me. He looked very exited. He convinced me to change medium of instruction, from Malay to English. He told me with English I have a bright future.
At that time, I had no idea about the future. Bright future was no meaning for me. Neither was dark future, it was not my concern either.
But my teacher kept on convincing me to the last minute when we had to part away. My teacher had to say good bye when I had to attend to some other works requested by my father. He said, "Make sure you are in....", . I kept silent. I knew he was serious.
When I received the examination result, I was so happy that I got through. I looked forward for secondary education. And deep in my heart, I wanted to go to English school. My so desire forced me to quickly communicate this to my father whom I knew would not buy my idea. I would not dare to do that in normal circumstances.
But I passed the examination. This must be a very good news to my father. With the news. I braved myself to talk to my father.
"Mana ambil duit?" (Where to get the money) asked my father with raised voice. No reply from me. I knew no point replying.
Going to English school was a luxury. In fact the opportunity to go to secondary level was a bad news to most of the parents, my father was no exception.
"Masuk sekolah Melayu pun tak cukup duit" (Even it was hard-pressed to go to malay school), said my father. I knew that was the ultimatum.
When I walked out my house back in 1956 to register myself to be admitted in standard one, I said I walked for a future that I had no idea. Now, 2014, the future of 1956, I am a pensioner.
My father was very calculative as far as money was concerned.
We were on foot and reached school at about 7.45 am. The morning journey for a distant of 1.6 kilometer, took us 30 minutes.
I registered myself as one of the new intakes for standard one, in the Malay school.
I was taught in the school for almost my entire primary education except for two year break. My family and I had to follow my father who had been transferred to the northern region. He was in the security service.
Malay language was a medium of instruction. English was only introduced when I was in standard six. I humbly would note that I was a bit better off than other students as far as English was concerned. My English teacher, with apology, I could not remember his name,was accused of being biased, praising me whenever I correctly answered questions asked. But it could not be help because no body other than I would dare to put up hand when questioned asked.
We were to sit a examination for admission to secondary education. Altogether 20 of us from our school. It was in 1961.
Did all of us prepared for the examination? The answer was a big NO. I would say with the highest certainty that we did not see the importance and significance of the examination in shaping up our future. As I said, I walked for a future that I had no idea. So did my other friends, their parents and mine included.
I was fortunate enough. In fact there were two of us, my peer a girl and myself, a boy. We somehow managed to get through for admission to secondary level . We passed the secondary level intake examination. Out of 20 pupils from our school, only two of us cleared the bar, certainly not with a flying colour, but suffice to meet the minimum standard required.
Eighteen others failed. Not because we were better off rather they were unfortunate. I also struggled to answer many questions. But luck was with me. I got through.
My unfortunate friends, not only failed to enter for secondary education, they were gone as far as aspiring for higher level of education. Their education stop the moment they received the result. Then, they were only good to be recruited as child labour and received low and unreasonable wage. And they were for good became marginalised citizen.
I said I was fortunate in the scheme, managed to get through the examination. Frankly I was an average student. I guessed, my other friend, that girl, was better than me based on the class performances.
My English teacher came to my house, congratulating me. He looked very exited. He convinced me to change medium of instruction, from Malay to English. He told me with English I have a bright future.
At that time, I had no idea about the future. Bright future was no meaning for me. Neither was dark future, it was not my concern either.
But my teacher kept on convincing me to the last minute when we had to part away. My teacher had to say good bye when I had to attend to some other works requested by my father. He said, "Make sure you are in....", . I kept silent. I knew he was serious.
When I received the examination result, I was so happy that I got through. I looked forward for secondary education. And deep in my heart, I wanted to go to English school. My so desire forced me to quickly communicate this to my father whom I knew would not buy my idea. I would not dare to do that in normal circumstances.
But I passed the examination. This must be a very good news to my father. With the news. I braved myself to talk to my father.
"Mana ambil duit?" (Where to get the money) asked my father with raised voice. No reply from me. I knew no point replying.
Going to English school was a luxury. In fact the opportunity to go to secondary level was a bad news to most of the parents, my father was no exception.
"Masuk sekolah Melayu pun tak cukup duit" (Even it was hard-pressed to go to malay school), said my father. I knew that was the ultimatum.
When I walked out my house back in 1956 to register myself to be admitted in standard one, I said I walked for a future that I had no idea. Now, 2014, the future of 1956, I am a pensioner.
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