An SABK


It has been a while since my last post. I have been very busy adapting and getting comfortable with my new life that I literally do not have time to sit, reflect and write. My life seems to flash before my eyes.

Among so many things that have happened in the last few months, the following stands up the most:

starting my first real job.

On April 1st, fate brought me to a religious school in Tumpat, Kelantan. At the point of knowing, I was in favour of neither the type of school nor the county I am placed in. To cut it short, I was not interested whatelse eager to be there. My father managed to locate the school after a long haul travel down the one-way road cuts through paddy fields and villages. It was not a pleasant journey and the school was not the kind of school one who graduated from abroad would expect to be placed in. I am not trying to be proud but the school is NOT the kind of school one would see in their everyday life as the school I am in can be considered as an impoverished school.  

The school which is affected by flood at least 3 times a year is a school for 198 students. The school maximises the usage and shares its limited school space whilst praying hard for the government's fund to build proper school facilities. Though the school is fifty years old this September, the buildings fail to send the message across. There are only 8 classes available (the school doesn't have form 5 due to the limited number of classes), the student's toilet is literally everyone's toilet (including teachers, cleaners, clerks and so on), the halls are only halls when the binders between classes are being put up, the gent's staffroom is also being known as the meeting room, the ladies' staffroom is also the co-op (which is located under the school's mosque- the place to store everything when the school get flooded) and the school's office is not only the place where you can find the management staffs but also the place where you can get your teaching supplies. 

For a new teacher who did not want to be there, nothing seemed to excite me.


Some people claim that the first impression plays a significant role in influencing how one is treated and viewed. Honestly, the school makes a bad first impression. However, as time passes by, as I get used to the way the school is, as I've gained a lot of valuable experience from dealing with the deficiencies, I start to enjoy and best, feel lucky to be a part of the school and community as a whole.


Of all the things that the school and poverty have taught me, one that stands out the most for the time being is:
Never limit yourself to being a mere fountain when you can be an ocean just because you believe you aint got enough reservoir. Just believe in yourself and stand your dream.




Looking back, fate brought me to a place of my least interest. The news about my first real school failed to excite me the way it did to my dear friends who are posted to either a school near to their home or a very good school in a prestige town. Worst, the school God send me to is not a well-equipped school in which I could practice all the ICT knowledge that I learnt throughout my 6 years TESL course. However, in the school called here, I am able to grasp thousand lessons which have helped me to discover myself, strengthen my personality, build my career from stretch and most importantly, be the light that may help the poor to get out from poverty.

Here, I learn more about humanity than teaching English. 
I can't tell how to be one of those proficient English speakers but I can tell how to be one of those students who survive poverty.
(April 26, 2014)

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