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Me and my Ma Ma
Young me with the parents
Most children I know consider their mothers to be the centre of their tiny universe. To them, mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. I had no such thoughts about my mum.
Growing up, I thought my mother to be quite ugly and old. I could not feel any love for this lady, and did not feel her affection for me either. I held her in mild disdain, thinking her ways obsolete and really quite ridiculous. Seeing that she was educated – something so rare for girls in her generation, I wish she could be more happening, more hip and more fun,
There were reasons for the way I felt. Being an adopted child, I struggled constantly with rejection. Since mum adopted me when she was in her forties, she was much older than many parents of my friends. For a young person, I suppose it was hard to see beauty in someone old.
The fact that I was adopted was a poorly kept secret. Mum desperately wanted it to be a secret, but the world around her was not cooperative. One way or another, I found out the fact way before I started school, and my little world crumbled at my feet. Part of me condemned myself for not being good enough for my natural family. Yet another part of me condemned my mother. It was an offensive-defensive mechanism – an effort to make me feel better about myself. It got so bad that I often made my mother cry. It did not make me a happier person. In fact, it made me feel lousy about myself. Still, I could not stop being mean.
When I was in my teens, I was allowed to go to KL alone to spend my holidays with my cousins. Those trips were crucial in helping me change my mind about my mum.
My 6th aunt lived in KL. She was the most astute of my aunts and most willing to talk to her teenaged nieces. She was quite a rebel in her own time. I understand she ran away from home and stayed away for years. That alone was enough to earn my respect! I was a gutless rebel, and I knew I would never have done what she did.
Parents on their Wedding Day
She spent a lot of time talking to me about my mum.
“Your mum was a selfless daughter and sister.”
“She was very beautiful, and many rich young men sought her hand.”
“She loved you very much.”
Piecing her story together, it appeared that mum was very pretty when she was young. Many young men sent their go-betweens to ask her hand. Unfortunately, just about then, my grandfather died. Most of her older sisters were married by then. So she became a teacher and helped support her mother and younger siblings. She rejected marriage, according to my aunt, because of her sense of responsibility. She wanted to help shoulder the financial woes that had befallen the family. She finally got married after all her siblings had grown. By which time, having children was a problem – hence my adoption.
I’d like to say that these conversations with my aunt changed me, and I was a loving and sweet daughter. Not so. I was still as prickly as the durian, and probably as foul smelling. I simply could not talk to her without getting jumpy and irritable. I still made her cry.
After I got married and lived inSingapore, I would invite her to come to stay with me. I looked forward to her visits, yet was filled with trepidation. Without fail, we would quarrel every time she came.
“Your maid stole my shoes.”
“Stole your shoes? What on earth for? First they would not fit her, and second, they are ugly!”
She would ask my opinion for most things and then do the opposite of what I suggested. She drove me wild.
Then she died. Life was not easy. There were stages in my life that were so difficult. While I would probably not have burdened her with my struggles, knowing she was there would have helped. She was not, and she would never be there again.
I looked at her old photos and finally saw what rejection had blinded me from – her beauty. There was much gentleness in her eyes. Her face was lined with wrinkles, each wrinkle representing worries. She was a worry wart, but she mainly worried for those she loved.
Somehow looking at her photo reminded me how skillful she was with her hands. She knitted beautifully, and to this day, the cardigans she made for my cousin when she went toVancouverto study are still remembered with hushed tones of admiration. She was also a great handyman, and if anything was in need of repair, she would be the one fixing it.
Mum loved but did not know how to show it. I only knew how much she loved me when she bought me a diamond pendant with an entire month’s pay. This was particularly significant since it was her last salary.
She had a hard life, but I hardly heard her complain. She was no gossip and even though I tried to dig, she would not talk. Even when she fell out with her sisters, I never heard her telling anyone anything bad about any of them. She was fiercely loyal. If she had any fault, it was that she never trusted anyone outside of the family. She gave dad a hard time, never considering him truly family, but an outsider that one had to be mindful of.
I miss her very much. I felt I never showed her enough appreciation when she was alive. Too late to regret, but not too late to love and to show it, to those still living, mothers, children, warts and all.
Happy Mother’s Day, y’ all.
No one can quite prepare for the pronouncement.
“The biopsy shows the tumour is malignant.”
Sitting there, a million thoughts raced through my mind, or at least I assumed they did. I cannot even remember if I thought ahead and worried about a whole host of things, or I just sat there, bewildered and so traumatized my mind was a blank.
I was 42. To all intents and purposes, I should not be diagnosed with cancer. I had done all the right things – I was not on the pill, except for a few months right at the beginning of the marriage, I had children young, the youngest child was born when I was only 31, I breast fed all my children, I ate reasonably well, was mildly overweight – but that was about it. I did have a very stressful time in the year 2000. Surely that was not enough to cause this “sudden” tumour? Just in 1 year?
The “whys” and “how comes” soon gave way to thoughts of the children. My son was going to do his A levels the year after and my youngest should be preparing for her PSLE. Important exams and they certainly should not have to worry about mum on top of all that. What could I do to minimize their worries and their fears? In the midst of all that, I remember thinking it was a good thing I got married and had children young. Imagine if they were still toddlers!
After a harrowing time in the hospital, getting registered and signing forms so as to be ready for an almost immediate warding for surgery, it was time to go home to break the news to the children. That must surely be one of the most difficult things I had ever done in my life.
By the time we got back, it was almost dinner time. My husband and I forced ourselves to eat. After dinner, we sat the children down and told them the news. I was careful to mention people who had cancer and still lived to a ripe old age. Still, the silence that ensued was so uncomfortable and so unnatural. My husband was uncharacteristically quiet. The patient had to do something to alleviate the tension.
“It’s okay.” I chirped with a cheerfulness I really did not feel. “I have no intention of dying and leaving you to your father. I cannot trust him to feed you properly. He will only give you junk food, and you know I will not have that.”
Uneasy giggles and a mock protest from the husband followed. I could not bear the tension, so I said, “Now, let us go shopping.”
We went to the malls, a normal family on an evening out. It was the quietest shopping trip I had ever made, but it was better than moping at home. In any case, for the youngest one at least, it reinforced the idea that cancer was just an illness and one that could be controlled, if not totally cured. Besides we had God on our side.
Did I panic, did I cry? Of course I did. I did that when I was alone in the mornings. I prayed and complained to God. I verbalized all my fears.
It was not easy. I had to come to terms with death. I had to accept that possibility and to check my spirit if I really believed what I had been professing – that I believed in eternal life and salvation through Christ Jesus. I also had to surrender my children to the only parents I could trust them to – my God, and with His guidance, my husband. I had to convince myself that without me, their lives could still be amazing. It was immensely difficult, and there were upswings and downturns. By the grace of God, there were more ups than downs, and I found peace slowly being more dominant than fear.
With that settled, I began to fight to live. You see, I could only fight when the most negative outcome – death – had lost its sting, and when the most crippling emotion – fear, was replaced with calm.
I was not afraid of death, but I was not going to be cheated of life. I was not afraid of death, but I refused to allow my children to be deprived of a mother, if I could help it.
The fight continues today, ten years after the first pronouncement. How to fight? The most important battle is in the mind and in the emotions. I refuse to allow cancer to occupy my every thought. I refuse it to control how I feel. Sure a good medical report uplifts the spirit and a poor one can throw me into depression. I try though not to wallow in the emotions. I allow some time to work the issues out, but I have learnt not to allow negative emotions to dominate my life.
I have a life to live – and cancer is just an obstacle along the way. There are many other challenges in life, and some of these, especially when they involve the children and the husband must take precedence over needless anxieties and fears.
Many cancer survivors/patients talk about how cancer taught them to live life more fully. I have never felt that way. Cancer or not, I live life the way I would have lived life – in my own laid back manner. I do not give cancer any credit for the way I live, nor do I blame it for the not so positive aspects of my life. Yes I do have an issue with the medications I have been on – they really made me weightier! And yes it has made me more aware of healthcare and its attending costs. Nonetheless, cancer is just what it is – one of the ailments that afflict human beings, a nuisance we need to learn to live with until it can be eradicated for good.
I do feel immense sympathy for those cancer patients who suffer much pain and agony. I am by no means downplaying their suffering. But for those whose life is still fairly normal, and life can be almost perfectly normal, do not allow cancer to control you. Avoid moping. Acknowledge its annoying presence. Embrace the joys that surround you, if you will only open your eyes to see them.
And live on.
This was first published by publichouse.
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They did this cover especially for the wedding. I don’t believe they have even seen the video yet! video made just 2 days before the wedding. Enjoy.
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Sunrise, Sunset
Sunrise in the Serengeti
Many years ago, far too many for me to want to remember, I was a freshie at Raffles Hall. Those were the days when “orientation” games were “optional”. I did not regret participating, though some of the games were really rough. It toughened me and certainly taught me EQ very quickly. I was a survivor then and I am a survivor still!
In any case, my seniors found out very quickly I could sing. One night, someone requested a song from “Fiddler on the Roof”. The song was “Sunrise Sunset”. I went on to sing this for the inter-hostel talent-time and won the second prize. That song somehow became my signature, and every now and then, someone would shout out to me, “Hey Sunrise. Can sing the song again?”
In the movie, the song was sung at a wedding, at the cusp of the holocaust. It was a bitter sweet moment for the couple and for the parents as they reminisced. It was a song about parents wanting to impart wisdom to the children, the passing of childhood, hope for the future – yes – it is an “emo” song. Now that my son is going to get married, this song and the lyrics are occupying my mind.
More than the wedding, this song reminds me of the glory of a wondrous sunrise, and the beauty of a splendid sunset.
We all love the sunrises of our lives – the birth of a child, the start of a new dream, our wedding day. We anticipate the moment, and we cherish these wonderful events. We look forward to the days after, nursing hopes and dreams. And so we should.
We often neglect to appreciate sunsets though. The chorus of the song goes:-
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears
Between sunrise and sunset, we bask in the glories of success. Between sunrise and sunset, we toil in patient hope. Between sunrise and sunset we weep in desperation. The highs, the lows and the plateaus, we have journeyed through them all. If hopes and dreams are the ingredients for the wonderment of sunrise, then the journey through mountains, valleys and plains surely are the spices of the poignant sunset.
Too often we fail to appreciate sunsets. I was not there to see the sunset of my uncle. When I cleared the ancestral home before handing over to the new owners, I found stacks of letters I wrote to him when I was away. You cannot imagine how I felt then – I felt so loved. Yet I missed being there in the last years of his life. I missed witnessing how like the best aged wine, his journey had made him who he was, the love he showed in his quiet way, his fierce protection over his family, including his sister’s daughter, his sisters’ children.
I was not there for my mother’s sunset. Hers was a life of insecurity, of sacrifice and of love. I was not there enough to fully appreciate how that translated in the last years of her life. She died suddenly after a car accident.
My mother-in-law is now in her eighties. She’s a dream mother-in-law, always cheerful and encouraging. These days, she’s frail. Mentally alert still, and always enjoying food, one day she told my daughter, “Sarah, when you get a good job, buy crabs for your ma-ma with your first pay, ok?” My daughter said to me later, “Ma-ma is so cute.” Indeed she is. She is getting difficult now, probably frustrated by her lack of mobility. She can be trying and cranky. Thankfully, the joviality and warmth which characterize her life is still very evident and much appreciated by her grandchildren. They will sit next to her, talk into her ear since she is hard of hearing, laughing at her off-tangent responses because she misheard, stroking her wrinkled hands or allowing her to stroke their hair as they keep her company.
Yes, old people can indeed wear our patience. They can be exasperating and oh so unreasonable. If we can take some time to look beyond the difficulties, there is still much beauty, so many stories and so many lessons to learn. You can weave many a tale using the lines on the face and the hands. What you need is time and patience to appreciate the beauty of the sun getting ready to set, of a life that has journeyed part way with you.
Some years ago, I worked in an insurance agency. There I was exposed to the stark reality of death. One day, my boss decided that instead of just bringing some relief to widows and heirs, we should bring some Christmas cheer to old folks in homes and critically ill patients in hospices. We would be caroling and bringing some gifts. I still remember that one of the songs we chose was “ Yi Jian Li Wu” or “A Gift”.
The chorus went
Sheng ming you xian, shi guang ye hui zhou, ru guo ni bu zhen xi, ji hui nan liu…..
li wu shui ran hao, ru guo ni bu yao, ni zhe me neng gou de dao, zhe me neng de dao.
This means life is fleeting, time waits for no one. If we do not appreciate opportunities as they come, they may be lost forever. No matter how wonderful a gift is, it is only as good as it is accepted and valued.
As we sang those lines, there was commotion from a room. The nurses were in a frenzy, there were shouts, then silence. A blanket covered a still face and tears streamed down my face.
Sunset Serengeti
As we come to terms with an aging population, do we even try to make sunsets as beautiful as they can be? When we talk about increasing our young by importing foreigners, we are concerned about the economic viability of our country. These foreigners will probably miss the sunsets of their loved ones back home, just like me with my uncle and my mother. Here inSingapore, the struggles of life, the insufficiency of affordable elderly care will cloud the sky and mar the sunsets of our own elderly or sick. What are we doing with regards making it easier for the younger ones to look after their aging elders, their chronically ill family members? We are human beings before we are citizens, we need help.
How many photo moments have we lost, when we got there too late, and the sun had already set? The same is true of life. After sunset is darkness. We need to make a concerted effort, as individuals and as a country, to try to be there.
Cheer up! It’s not all gloom and doom. There is still the moon and the stars – the memories that we have, that lingering on can still encourage us and move us. Still, try not to miss sunsets, for they are beautiful.
As for me, I am going to enjoy a glorious sunrise…my son is getting married!!
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Who can forget the expression on Princess Diana’s face as she said softly, “Well, there were three of us in this marriage, so it was a bit crowded.” There was so much pain reflected in those eyes, in the slightly bowed head, the pursed lips. Hers was a pain of rejection, but it did not start with her marriage breakdown.
We have been misled. When we were young, the ending of fairy tales tells us that after marriage, we will live happily ever after. The romantic comedies tell us that marriage is about two people. We have been taught that “Two is company, three is a crowd. We hear pet statements like, “I am marrying you, not your mother.”
I hate to be a party pooper – but marriage is about crowds.
If you read about Princess Diana’s life, you will discover that her family expected a son. When she was born, they had no name ready for her. She got her name two weeks later. She was baptized in the local church, with commoner godparents, whereas her brother was baptized in Westminster Abbey, with Queen Elizabeth II as the principal godparent. Her sister dated Prince Charles before her. Her parents’ marriage failed. She was a poor student, failing her ‘O” Levels twice. This was a girl who experienced rejection after rejection from people who mattered. She was almost an afterthought at key points in her life. Hardly the CV of someone likely to succeed in anything.
The painful truth is Diana brought a crowd into the marriage, just as Prince Charles did. So do the rest of us mere mortals.
We bring into our marriage our parents and our upbringing. We bring into marriage the culture we grew up in, and how that culture shaped our expectations. We bring into marriage our hurts and our successes. We have to accept in-laws and understand that they had a hand in moulding our spouses. The more we understand them, the better prepared we will be. We have to live with at least two sets of crowds, crowds who ordinarily may not even choose to mingle.
When children come into the picture, it gets even more crowded. There are dependents to consider – their demands and our expectations to balance.
I was surfing the net for samples of marriage vows and samples of what an officiating pastor might say. I found this one really refreshing. This is taken from A Wedding Notebook.
For life is a dance, and marriage is the choosing of eternal partners for that dance.
I know, I know. The romantic in us will see the perfect waltz, the flouncy skirt swirling gently as the love-struck couple gaze deeply into each other’s eyes.
Can I burst that bubble again? Dancing, especially for the inexperienced dancer, means frequent stepping of toes, bumping into other dancers or having some one else trying to cut in your dance. The music might change. Just when you get used to the waltz, all of a sudden you are required to dance hip-hop.
Sometimes there is confusion as to what dance is being demanded of you. One could be dancing the salsa, and the other the quickstep. Even with the same song, many things could go wrong. That is why I love Perry Como’s song – “Papa loves Mambo”.
Part of the lyrics go:
He goes to, she goes fro
He goes fast, she goes slow
He goes left, she goes right
Papa’s looking for mama, but mama is nowhere in sight.
And don’t forget the crowds that refuse to leave. If life is a dance, and your spouse your life partner, then the dance is one where there are many people holding on to your garment as you gyrate to the song. The tricky part is how to still stay together as partners.
Just like marriage is not about two people alone, divorce is not just about you. When the principal dancers fall, the entire crowd holding on will trip and stumble too.
Sometime this month, I would have been married for 28 years. I am still learning how to perform the perfect dance. The crowds we brought in have more or less settled to the routine. Some have added interesting variations to the dance. Others have tried to dominate, and if not checked in time, could have caused the dance to fall apart.
Even now, occasionally, a member of this mini dance troupe might suffer arthritis, and cause me to lose my step. Even now, the dance is not perfect, and that keeps me on my toes! One thing is for certain – this dance has enriched my life and brought many more smiles than tears.
So before you get married, take a good look at the crowd you cannot shake. Can you learn to dance with them? While I like to watch Discovery Channel’s, “Say Yes to the Dress” I know that marriage is not about saying yes to the dress alone. It is about saying yes to the spouse and his entourage.
No matter what Mr Lee KY says, the marriage institution is not to be entered into lightly. Yet, don’t be too afraid. Just be prepared.
Cue Music!
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Archiving what I wrote for public house http://publichouse.sg/.
I read Dr Wong Wee Nam’s article about President hopeful Tan Kin Lian and was reminded of my own childhood.
I too grew up in rented rooms. Mum was, for all intents and purposes, the breadwinner of the family. Dad sent so much of his money away to China, or gave to friends in need that I doubt if he contributed much. So from the start, my parents lived in rented rooms.
Rented rooms in the old days were very different from those today. I grew up in Penang and the rooms we rented were spacious. To give you an idea, mum would have a double bed, a sewing machine, two armchairs and a coffee table, a study table, a dressing table, an old fashioned blackwood long bench, a wardrobe and enough space on the floor for a double mattress. The landlord will give us a small space in the back for our little cupboard for groceries and dried goods, and a little dining table.
Living in rented rooms was not always pleasant. Some landladies were nice. However, we usually have no ensuite, and some of the houses were so old that they did not have modern toilets. The houses that used buckets for toilets still bring shivers down my spine and probably accounted for poor bowel movement for the better part of my life.
There are quite a few stories I can tell about this experience. One of the more memorable ones was how I caught my neighbor having an affair with one of the employees of my landlord. The room we stayed in belonged to a small Chinese company who used the ground floor as an office. I had to walk past my neighbour’s room to go to the toilet. One day, I heard lots of giggles. I glanced through the open window and saw the lady with the odd job worker from downstairs. I was a little young then, and was wondering what the man was doing tugging at her sarong. Later the lady told me the guy had come to help out with her baby. The little one was born with encephalitis – a huge swollen looking head. Some days later, the man’s wife, who was a good friend to the lady and who incidentally had helped her with getting the room, had a mighty row with her. This lady was a real so-and-so, and eventually she made trouble for us with the landlord, just so she could get our room. We had the biggest room that overlooked the streets – which was really cool, especially during the Chingay procession. We had a perfect view of the entire proceedings.
The purpose of my writing this however is not just about reminiscing. I want young people to know that not owning your own home, though a bummer, is not the end of the world. We do not need to wait for all the stars to align before we get married and have children.
I lived in Rwanda for nearly two years. In my first year, I taught English to some hospitality staff. One day I asked my students how many were parents. Nearly all put up their hands. Then I asked how many were married. Less than a quarter put up their hands. Of course I asked them why. For the Rwandese, the wedding ceremony is a must. That ceremony costs a pretty penny. It includes a feast on top of giving cows to the bride. So unless the groom has saved enough, a wedding is out of the question. To me this is quite ridiculous. I told my students that surely a simple wedding will suffice. From the look on their faces, I was really off the mark.
For Singaporeans, we have moved on from our kampong ways. No longer do we have the sizes of the family homes of old where married children continued to stay in the family homes for decades and generations. In most western countries, not only married children have their own homes. Children when they reach college years begin to move out to rooms or apartments of their own. So it is little wonder that ideally we want to have our own home before we settle down.
This, however, has become somewhat of an impossible dream. It takes time to get to know someone well enough to know whether we want to settle down in marriage. Only then does the couple start looking at buying a property. Given the current situation, couples are usually successful only after 3 or 4 tries. Then they have to wait for 3 -4 years for the apartment to be ready. The other option is to buy resale or private property. Well, if you are able to afford to do so, it is certainly an option. If it is not within your means, you still have a choice.
Growing up in rental rooms has not impeded Tan Kin Lin’s success. I was not emotionally scarred nor did I feel disadvantaged in any way. My mum finally bought a house when I was thirteen. She had just retired and you cannot imagine how anxious I was about her finances. She was more prudent than I imagined or could ever hope to be and we more than survived.
All through my childhood, I never had a television. Mum did not even install a telephone. We did not own a fridge. I still did well in school. Sure I was envious of my classmates at times. Coming from a prestigious school, and being in the top class, you can imagine most of my classmates were well-to-do. But because I could hold my own in class and on stage and in various competitions, no one looked down on me. It helped that I had supportive extended family members, who challenged and motivated me to do better.
For those of you out there contemplating getting married, it is inconvenient not having your own home. But do not allow this roadblock to defeat you. Look for other options – rent a room, stay on with your parents, stay with married siblings – while waiting for your own apartment. The key to your children’s success is not wealth or possessions – but your love and encouragement. When privacy is needed, go for a holiday with your spouse. If you play it right, each holiday can be a honeymoon, especially given the restrictions of not owning your home.
Filed under: God Speaks, The Straw that breaks the camel's back, Uncategorized | Tags: forgiveness, forgiveness and God, how to forgive repeatedly, how to handle anger and vengeance, The Straw that breaks the camel's back, why we should forgive
I am sure many have experienced this before. In my case, my experience with a certain person … P for pain…. had given me so much grief. P had subjected me to severe trials. God said to forgive… so I did. Unlike previous P’s, God tested me further. Where I parted ways with most other Ps I continued allowing this last one to have a place in my life. Needless to say there was more pain. God said to forgive, so I did. I dared not disobey. Jesus did say seventy times seven times right?
It did not even need seven times. The last straw came and it was a straw. Compared to the previous transgressions, this last one was minor. But it was as if I have had enough. I was through.
It was so bad that as I reflect on my walk this past year, I saw that it had separated me from my God. Very much like Eve in the garden of Eden, when she recognised her nakedness and shame, and hid, I too was hiding from God. Hmmm perhaps that’s not a good analogy. I was more like Jonah, refusing to preach to Nineveh. I wanted to run away from God because I knew what God wanted and I was not prepared to give it to him or P.
Foolish? Surely so. I am usually Ms Pragmatism. I know that not to forgive causes more harm to me than to P. So what’s holding me back from setting myself free? After all I have been sorely tested so many times in the area of forgiveness. Each time all I needed was to ask for the grace to forgive and it happened. So why am I allowing a straw to break my back, and possible sever my relationship with God? The price to pay to hold on to anger and hurt does not commensurate with the “joy” of bearing a grudge. I mean, who in her right senses want to dwell in bitterness, when we can bask in love, joy and peace?
I cannot understand this. Pastor Derek in one of his sermons mentioned the fact that we have the power to forgive and withhold forgiveness… i just cannot find that passage. It is a familiar passage that has baffled me. Can it be that if i do not forgive, God does not forgive that person too? Could that be the reason some of us hold on to unforgiveness? to ensure that the sinner does not get liberation? I do not understand.
But i do know that Jesus said that we will be forgiven as we forgive. That alone is incentive enough surely, especially when we weigh the length of time on earth with eternity? I do not know about you, but i do not want to spend eternity in damnation because i indulged in my human emotions of vengeance and anger.
So the question remains… why is it that a straw is capable of breaking a camel’s back? Then it dawned on me. A straw will not break a camel’s back if the burdens of the past have been delivered to the destination. And if a straw is seemingly breaking our back could it be that we have not really cleansed ourselves from previous hurts but instead have kept them in our emotional store rooms, only to bring out and carried when a new hurt comes along.
Do i make sense? If so, then the only true liberation is thorough spring cleaning – not only when new year swings by, but constantly. That way, no straw … replace that with trivial matters… can ever break our relationship with God.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: comedy, comedy in real life, locked in a room, sarah tsang
This is too funny not to post…
Scene 1: we realise our plight
-Amirah gets up from her seat.
Amirah (in a happy way): I need to pee pee! I shall go peeee!
-She tries to open the door but it’s stuck.
Amirah (in a confused way): How come cannot open? -uses more strength- eh Sarah, how come the door cannot open.
Me (acting all smart): oh that happened before. dunno must just keep trying. don’t use so much force, come i try.
-i try to open the door GENTLY, but to no avail
Me: hehe amirah.. we’re stuck. are you very urgent?
Amirah: huh.. not really, but.. i would love to pee (LOL)
Scene 2: we call for backup
(note, at this moment we are running around like headless chickens randomly shouting “we’re gonna die” and “i need to pee”)
-we use msn to call FANGHAO but he just laughs at us.
fanghao: pee in a bottle la
amirah: i got no cock la (LOL)
-we use msn to call kian lin and he very helpfully comes over
-but he is very unhelpful in getting us out. instead he helps us call the “faulty officers”
kian lin: okay you guys just stay put, i’m going back to my room. this is damn funny
us: WE HAVE NO WHERE ELSE TO GOOOOO
-at this point i realise i also have to pee. amirah and i conclude that the room is taking revenge on us for not spending enough roomie time. so we decide the best solution is to sit down and play taptap.
Scene 3: we are saved!!! 
kenn, kenneth, kenneth’s girlfriend, andreas and the faulty officers arrive
-kenn was very helpfully trying to tell us what to do but we weren’t able to follow his orders
-the rest of them stand in the background, laughing at us
(SO MEAN LA. SO HAPPY WHEN WE ARE GOING TO DIE)
-especially andreas! WE COULD SEE HIM SMILING THROUGH OUR PEEPHOLE.
-kenneth did try to make himself useful by roaring at the door. but that obviously didn’t help nothin’.
-suddenly the faulty officers climb in through the window (they very brave!)
-they fiddle with the door and one of the faulty officers uses MY VERY AWESOME SWISS ARMY KNIFE and miraculously the door swings open!!
-cheers spring from the room “YAYY WE ARE FREE. WE CAN GO PEE NOW!”
me: you guys want to eat pringles?
faulty officer: waaa. you very bad. i save you then you offer THEM pringles
kenn (VERY UNHELPFULLY): ya uncle i think you should lock them back inside the room
-haha anyway amirah and i rushed off to go pee. the officer was teaching them how they can use the swiss army knife to open the door but he had cut his finger so i whipped out my SNOOPY PLASTER at which everyone was super amused.
amirah and i conclude that this was all a conspiracy between kenneth and andreas in an attempt to eliminate the best roomies.
BUT WE WON WE WONN WE ARE FREEE :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D
Debbie and Winston are friends from my fist church. I do not know what it is about first churches… its almost like family somehow. And though i have left that church many years now, the people there have a special special place in my heart.
Debbie has a history of lupus. But recently she is diagnosed with leukaemia. Do visit their blog, and offer a prayer at the very least.
www.debbielim.to
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: AWARE Singapore, Cheryl Ng, CSE, Sin Boon Ann, Straits Times
My sentiments exactly! Well said. Except the part of regulated press perhaps …
Social Cohesion
13. Sir, economic progress and prosperity will not mean much to our country if
we are not able to maintain our social cohesion. That ours is a fragile democracy
of many interest groups is a constant reminder to all of us to be mindful of the
need to preserve our national unity through civil discourse and mutual respect of
views, even if these are not necessarily shared by all. More importantly our social
cohesion must also be founded on the key values that our society has come to
embrace; values that define who we are and what we stand for as a people.
14. The recent incident involving the takeover of AWARE by a group of
concerned Singaporeans demonstrates how fragile our society is. For a brief
period of time, our nation was on the boil. What turned out to be a relatively
simple and lawful act of democracy suddenly turned into a deeply polarized and
heated debate between the Christian Right and the homosexual and lesbian interest
groups. The spotlight was quick to focus on a few key groups, rightly or wrongly;
namely the Church, as seen to be represented by supposed usurpers, the old
leadership who were seen to champion the rights of the homosexuals and the
lesbians in Singapore, the Ministry of Education who denied all knowledge of the
instructor’s manual for the Comprehensive Sexual Education (CSE) in schools run
by AWARE, and of course the press.
15. Sir, I do not intend to go into the rights and wrongs of the way in which a
group of concerned ladies decided take over the leadership of a voluntary welfare
organization, save to say that I find it odd that democracy suddenly takes on a very
different meaning when a group of new members decide to legitimately contest in
an election to determine a new agenda. I also find it odd that many of the members
who did not bother even to attend the most important meeting in the year to elect a
new leadership should now decide to raise a howl of protest after the event. If
they, meaning the older members, were that concerned in the first place, I believe
they should have taken a more active role in the affairs of the organization.
Perhaps, AWARE should have been more selective of its membership? The
question of who should be given the right to vote has deep philosophical
implications that would be applicable not only to AWARE, but for Singapore as
well.
Role of the Media
16. Of the few protagonists involved in the saga, I would like to mention the role
of the press in reporting this spat. One self evident condition of a free press in a
democracy is the need to be responsible, impartial and to present the facts as
neutrally and objectively to the readers. One wonders whether the press can be
truly called upon to discharge that duty when some of its own members feel rather
passionately about the issues in the public domain. The recent saga surrounding
AWARE is one but one example. I will quote one email that I received from one
Cheryl Ng. I must add that I do not know Ms Ng and I have not verified the
substance of her email. However, I would say that I would not be surprised if it
were true and would be very concerned if it is. Her email reads:
“I’m also surprised and deeply troubled that the reporting in The Straits
Times has not been honest in presenting the full picture to the public,
especially concerned parents following the AWARE saga. There was a
concerted effort by both the press and TV coverage not to mention the
significant presence of the homosexual community. If I had not been there, I
would never have known the truth.
a) In fact, I witnessed the main reporter responsible for blowing up
the whole AWARE story….hobnobbing with the homosexual fraternity at the
EGM.
b) Some members of the press and TV were candidly jubilant as
they celebrated the passing of the ‘no confidence’ vote by punching their
fists in the air and hugging the ‘old guard’ they were standing with.
c) In the sweep of fervent support, the constitutional amendments
were also made to allow men and foreign women full voting rights (in a local
women’s association that makes the CEDAW report on the state of women
in Singapore). In the perspective that such an amendment was thrown out
in the previous AGM, the motives may be called into question. The press
made no mention of this important development.
I question the cover-up in the press.
In review of newspaper coverage of AWARE developments, I’m also
beginning to think that press focus on the sensitive issue of religious
involvement was but a calculated red herring thrown out to manipulate
public sentiments.
Sir, I am pleading for the authorities to look into this matter as I am
becoming increasingly alarmed that minority groups with a political agenda
may not have just reached its grasp into a vulnerable women’s group, and
through it attempt to distort our children’s views on sexuality, but has
actually infiltrated the press to block out news and prevent the public from
accessing the truth. I actually feel frightened that the press in Singapore can
attempt to shape my views as it wishes by misinformation or partial
information”
17. The accusations brought up by Ms Ng have once again raised the question of
whether there should ever be an unregulated press. In reporting the matter, the
editors and journalists could have looked at the issue as one of the conservative
group in our society taking on the liberals rather than be quick to frame this in the
context of the Christian Right against the homosexuals and the lesbians. True,
many of the ladies came from the same church. However, the same may be said of
any group who comes from any organization. But that alone does not mean that
they represent the organization. I do wonder if the press would have been so quick
on the take if it were women from another faith who took up the cause instead. It
is unfortunate that by framing this episode as one that carries a religions
undertone, the whole debate deeply polarized our society very quickly.
18. Apart from the press, the education ministry in the early days of the AWARE
leadership struggle has maintained consistently that they did not look into this
matter as no complaint was made by any parent. Not surprisingly, what followed
was a deluge of complaints from parents which then prompted an investigation by
the ministry. The outcome was an implicit acceptance of the serious nature of the
allegations against the CSE programmes run by AWARE. I am grateful to note the
ministry has now tightened the procedures on the appointment of course providers
in the area of sexuality education.
19. The AWARE saga is as much about the kind of values we want to promote in
our society as it is about leadership struggle. To build a socially cohesive society,
all interest groups must recognize and accept the fundamental building blocks of
our society that have come to represent our values on families and relationships.
Our values change if at all by evolution than by revolution. Aggressive
proselytisation by fringe groups, whether carried out by insidious means or
otherwise, will only invite a backlash from mainstream society. This is not how
our society should be run. Social cohesion requires the active participation of all.
In this particular episode, one wonders if the education ministry had taken a more
proactive stand in the first place by being more vigilant, the leadership struggle
and the ensuing polarization of our community would not have taken place in the
manner that it did. The question that some have asked is whether a formal
complaint must be made from someone before the ministry will act on a matter
which it has heard about and which comes under its purview. Displaying
annoyance at being dragged into the sorry saga does not help with the confidence
recovery process in the aftermath.
20. Sir, we have done extremely well as a country over the years; and I can say
with great confidence that we will continue to do well in the years to come. The
President’s speech for the new session of Parliament has done much to reinforce
that confidence. The question is not whether we will do well, but how much better
we will do. I strongly believe that if we are able to pull together and collectively
work at overcoming the challenges that lie before us, there will always be a clear
blue sky with a rainbow spanning over it for Singapore. With that Sir, I join my
colleagues in thanking the President for his speech.
21. Thank you.
Sin Boon Ann
