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Ronnie’s story

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.

Ronnie (circled)
Ronnie (circled)

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

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Visitors to the Sabah Goducate Learning Centers

I heard one of the most beautiful lines for the day. A new friend, after visiting a Goducate Center asked over lunch, ”Let’s get you the stationery that you need later.”

I have always had reservations about taking in visitors to our centers. One, they could be too fuzzy and might just waste our time. Second, they could be bored people needing a short change of scenery and wanted to see tourist’s spots instead. Three, sure they could be touched by the plight of the kids, buy them some stuff to help but really more to make themselves feel good. After they go back to where they come from, they will all forget about us.

But not this team. When we were limited by the vehicles that we had, they squeezed in-and how squeezed in-leaves me shaking my head and smiling each time I remember it. My friend who owns the car told me later he was watching the tires each time saying to himself, “don’t burst, don’t make problems now, please, please…”

The genuine interest to know and somehow understand why we are doing this is written all over and we could feel it. And they are easy to please. Simple, rustic food makes them relax-it was contagious!

I look at our kampong friends, I share their pride. They were honored that guests from a different land stepped on their soil, much more inside their humble dwellings.

To our guests it could just be one short, simple visit. To the kampong children it’s different. It’s like seeing another world. A tiny seed bursting in their minds popping out many questions. Where did they come from…how to get there….they liked my song…. Why are they so happy….why they smile always….

Visiting is like reading a book. It opens up a different world. When it was time to buy stationeries, my friend was joined by two other friends. Our children got the pencils and crayons and exercise notebooks. And we got our sunblocks.

We were blessed. They were our first visitors. I have a feeling they will not forget.

to be continued

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The poor children at the Sabah Goducate Learning Center

Three hundred and ten children! Where did they all come from? Good question. How did they find their way to the Goducate Learning Center? Better question.

I was sitting on one of the front row of chairs reserved for our special visitors that morning. This is the year’s school opening and the nine classes are giving presentations – yes, nine classes! Each class wanted to present something. Can’t blame them. It was the only time for parents to see their children performing on our simple stage. And that day, it was not just a performance. Their children are singing, reading, dancing before Singaporean audience!

As all eyes are on the children on stage, I watched the parents sitting behind us. In their faces I read, it does not really matter that they do not fully understand the English songs. What matters is that their kids understood. Their kids are speaking, writing, reading and singing it. Their applause were thunderous. Every parent has the right to be very proud. The bondage of illiteracy has been broken and for most of them, this breakthrough came after the fourth and third generation.

I look at the kids. The tears come flooding again. They are so different than the last time I first saw them. They know now how to line up. Most of them are very comfortable performing on stage. Even the tiny new ones would stop sniffling and join heartily once the music starts. I love it when they converse with me. I love it when I see excitement and hope in their eyes.

I remember their stories. And I am grateful for the opportunity that came our way. Our kids will have a chance in life. A chance to rise above the oppressing circumstances of poverty, hard core poverty.

I glanced at my friend seated a couple of seats away from me. What was in her heart was written all over her face. And the tears just keep on coming.

How do kids find their way to a Goducate Learning Center? For as long as there are people like my friend who realizes how privileged she is and her kids because life is kinder to them. And how privileged she is to have the chance to change a child’s circumstance. And how she can take part in giving not only one child a future but a community of children a future, one after another.

The visitors left that day. But the singing, reading, writing, dancing continues each day. And how beautiful that is.

to be continued