Category: Malaysia

A mother, not related to Ronnie told me the day she saw Ronnie and her sister waiting by the roadside for the bus to attend school in town, she could not stop the tears in her own eyes. She said, I feel so proud of them. I know what she meant. I bet all of us in the kampong feel the same way. Each day that this kids go out, they carry all of our dreams with them.

Last night, I was with another mother. Her daughter belongs to Ronnie’s class in the kampong. She told me each time her daughter watches Ronnie and his sister leave the kampong everyday, she knew she is hurting and she is hurting twice inside because right now, she cannot undo their circumstances. The daughter was sitting beside her Mom when we had this talk. She did not say anything. Only silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She’s the brightest in the girl’s class. I know why she’s hurting. I told her she is smart. It doesn’t mean that she is less smart because she could not go out of the kampong. I told her how I used to read books a lot all by myself. How I practiced pronouncing words, phrases, conversations in front of the mirror. That her time will come. Her Mom said in tears, yes, don’t quit, don’t quit on your dream.

I went home grateful for the pain in that girl’s heart. It is this hurt that will help them dream of breaking out from the norm of illiteracy. Of the powerlessness brought about by ignorance and poverty. It is wanting so much for a dream to come true that will propel them to work on making their dreams come true. No one else can do it for them. What we do is open opportunities for them. What they do with it is up to them.

This week I got word that Ronnie et al were asked from which school did they come from. They haven’t studied in Form 1, they just got in this year for Form 4. How come they speak very good English. In that school, it is widely known that they are the best in English and Math. They outdid the rest who were there since Form 1.

Which school did they come from? Which kampong?

If you are part of the Goducate vision, you will somehow understand why I feel so proud, why I shed tears even when writing this, why I get a lump in my throat when I talk about them. If you are already one of us, I am writing this to let you know that it is happening, sooner than what we have projected and I thank you for helping in giving this kids hope. If you you are not yet part of this, don’t miss out on your chance to make a difference. You can help not just a child dream but a community of children break free from illiteracy and have a chance to get a future.

If I could- I want to write Ronnie’s and the other kid’s name on a banner, hang it outside for everyone to see. But I cannot do that.

Which school did they come from? Which kampong? Truth is, they come from a simple school, just a roof enough to spare them from the rain. With walls the children and teachers painted together to hide the flaws. A room filled with love. Just a school of love.

Previous post:
Ronnie’s story Part 1

Later that afternoon I was told by our teacher that they tried telling Ronnie to go home first to get a change of clothes but he wouldn’t. I came in late already, he said. I don’t want to miss the whole lesson altogether. The teacher took a few pieces of paper to put under Ronnie’s shirt, just like what they did to the other kids who refused to go home even when they needed a change of shirt. It has to do for now she said-just to absorb the water and protect their backs. Besides, we didn’t really know how far their houses are so it might not be wise to send them home. I felt warm with the gesture of the teacher. That is a mark of a very good teacher-love for the children. And the lesson I learned from Ronnie, he came to learn. Seriously wanted to learn. We should not shortchange him.

Ronnie’s story did not end there. That week. I looked for his Mom when at times he would be absent from class. I learned Ronnie earns RM17 a day, a big contribution for his family to survive and eat everyday. I told the Mom if it will be possible for Ronnie to stop work and go to “the school.” I told her we cannot afford Ronnie’s daily income (truth is we were not ready to give any scholarship of some sort but I just can’t seem to pass up this opportunity). But if Ronnie works in the school I could come up with RM200 a month for him.

And that’s how it started. Our first work-to-study program. Ronnie, opens and locks up the school house. He was the leader-keeper of toys, books, and brooms. He makes sure our two tiny classrooms are neat and orderly all the time. The following year I had to stop Ronnie’s allowance because I took in her older sister as teacher trainee and I did not have enough funds. Ronnie kept on his duties. And how he learns inside the class-it is such a joy to us who are teaching.

This year, Ronnie was able to get certain documents. He can now write and read well and also converses in confident English. His Mom and sister (who are our teachers) plus what their Dad can bring in pooled together their resources to send Ronnie and his younger sister to town to study. The school is admitting non-Malaysians who have certain documents. The fees and the school bus are beyond what any normal family in their kampong can afford. Ronnie and his sister plus another boy is now a special case. They are like a breakthrough for each family’s dream. It ‘s like them seeing that dreams do come true. That their kids will not stay ignorant. That it could happen.

to be continued

Two years ago, a certain boy caught my attention when we started a literacy class. It was raining one afternoon but we were unsuccessful in telling the kids to go home. We thought it was best not to hold class. Since it was raining, we all had to stay indoors-the mango tree under which shade is our regular classroom is no use that time-and it meant, it will be too crowded in the small garage now serving as classroom. Better to send the kids home.

No one budged. No one wanted to go home. What were we thinking? Of course these children did not want to miss the fun of being in class! Going to class is a chance of a lifetime-how long they waited until this dream came to pass-you should ask their parents and the parents of their parents. And as for us, we thought the rain is a good excuse not to hold class. Back in our hometowns, schoolkids enjoy it when classes are cancelled for whatever reason. Here, there are no reason to cancel one, except when it spells death. That was lesson number one for me, learned on my first week. But the day is not done in teaching me another lesson.

When we manage to squeeze in everyone and start the alphabet drill, I went out to stay in the porch of one house not far from the school house. Sometime later, I saw a boy in front of the open door of the school house. From where I was, I could tell he was soaked from the rain. He was squeezing out the water from his clothes, folding his pants up, stood in front making sure he will not bring the water in but close enough to hear everything.

I asked my friend who was that boy and why he was there? Is he supposed to be in class? Why did he come in the middle of the class time? That is Ronnie, she said. He works in the construction to help his family that’s why he came late.

to be continued

Next post:
Ronnie’s story Part 2