Finding Out Sofea: Part One.

I've left the blog for a long time since there was nothing real to write about. But for the last 3 days, my mind is full of past memories. Every one of them haunts me of all the signs that I chose to ignore, some of them are out of total ignorance but some others, although there was a bit of finding out, there was no definite conclusion.

However, on 30th April 2015, after taking a nearly-2-hour assessment at Persatuan Dyslexia Malaysia, it was confirmed that my daughter is dyslexic.

She is 9. 

When she was 7, every time she had homework to do, she would normally cry out of 2 reasons. First, she cried because she could not understand whatever she read because her letters and numbers were 'moving'. Oblivious that a dyslexic kid sees the way she described, I asked her to stop making up stories. She would become defensive of that very idea, and I would become very furious. That led to the second reason of her cry, the angry mom who constantly scolded her and her idea of moving graphics. In the end, after many months struggling with this 'moving' idea, she had finally stopped telling me that.

Nonetheless, her performance at school deteriorated slowly but surely.

Another haunting memory I have was when she came back from school. It was the same year. She came back crying and telling me that she could not tolerate the noise other students were making at school. She could not bear the loud ringing of the school bell too. She found it horrifying to listen to the constant yells of the teachers using microphone. She cried describing the noise. 

I hugged her tight. I remember telling her if she managed to turn off the switch in her ears, she would succeed in ignoring the noise. She cried even louder that night, not knowing how to follow my instructions. I kept telling her to try harder and I held her tight that night until I was sure she went asleep.

Later I found out, to adjust herself in the noisy surrounding, up to this day, she herself became extremely quiet at school. She locked herself in her invisible bubble so to avoid the noise. No matter how many times I asked her to mingle around or to talk to others, she would refuse so as not to make noise. 

And then, there were many times that she failed to copy work given by the teachers on the board. Her handwriting would go horribly ugly with all the words combined into one and went out of lines. There was once that she went so fidgety and scared for not completing her Malay Language task. She was so scared, she asked me to write a letter to her teacher asking for forgiveness. I did. 

Apart from the academic struggles, she struggles a lot in her speech. I saw her many times thinking hard, as if planning things first before she speaks about anything. Oh. She only started talking monosyllabic words when she was 4. So, to justify my ignorance and stupidity, I thought it was okay that she speaks slowly, considering how late it was for her to start talking. 

There were so many signs ignored actually.

There were left-right confusions (up to today, she still found it hard to tell which one is left and right shoes or hands), the name of the day (she could tell you the name of the days in a week but finds it hard to apply to real context) the time of the day and all related concepts. She moves non-stop and always needs to find things to do. Even the way she watches the television is different.

Nevertheless, if you talk to her in English, she could actually amaze you with her vocabulary. She excels in English and Arabic, by scoring these two subjects very highly and almost effortlessly. That actually brought me wonders. And her memory is superb. She remembers things that she loves, no matter how old the memory is. But try asking her to memorize the things she hates, even if the thing is only a simple times table, she would definitely fail to do so.

Three days after the discovery.

Although actually I always knew that she is somehow special, this is a new notion to live with. The whole concept to learn to adapt, however late this is, it is better late than never.

What the discovery has so far taught me?

Maybe, with God's will, I can be a better mother.

I don't know how just yet, exactly, but I think I am at peace knowing the real state of her problem.

I am at peace knowing where to send her for help.

For my darling daughter?

She will go for classes and therapies starting mid-May.

Whatever the outcome of the classes will have on her, I might want to come back writing about it again next time.

After that tiring assessment day, I told my daughter that she would go for special classes at the center. Only during weekends.

                    "Why do I have to come here?"

                    "Because they know that you are special. You have to go to special classes."

                    "Do they know I have special powers?"

                    "Yes... sort of."

                    "What special powers do I have?"

                    "Oh... That's why they want to find out. Do you want to find that out too?"

                    "Oh yesss... can I use the powers then?"

                    "Definitely! But first, you have to go to the classes, ok?"

                    "Ok!"

Come As You Are

She came and hugged me when I was sitting at my table.

"Teacher, Happy Teacher's Day!"

The hug was long and tight. I giggled.

"Ok, ok Aca...thank you very much!" Still, she hugged me tightly and didn't let go.

"Come on girl...thank you very much. Read your book, revise," I continued giggling. It was already awkward. She was still hugging me. Her head was at my shoulder. She then looked at me.

"Ok teacher, I wanna kiss you." She kissed me on both cheeks. I was stunned.

"Kiss me back, teacher" She smiled. I did kiss her back, on her cheeks. Still giggling, I said thank you, half-stunned but feeling fully happy. She went back to her seat.

She was the brave one.

When everyone was answering the Add Maths paper this morning, the class went deadly silent. All eyes were focusing on the questions. The struggle was obvious. And it was the perfect timing to replay the memories from the back of my head. 

This was the song that brought me into this world. It was Nirvana "Come As You Are" that helped me to gain a place in the course. It was an interview for a twinning programme for TESL. 

I was asked the reason why I wanted to be an English teacher. After all, I was a Science student. I told the interviewer that I love English songs. So they asked me to sing a song.  

I sang half of the song. With my ugly voice. The pitching was everywhere. But I sang.

As simple as that. 

I didn't go impressing them by saying teaching could change anyone's life. I didn't bluff them saying that teaching is a noble profession. I didn't know at that time that teaching could inspire anyone.

I wasn't even prepared for the interview in the first place. All I knew that day, my parents were waiting outside of the room, waiting for us to hit the road back to our hometown. And in front of me, four 'big' people, talking in English, asking questions related to my life.

All I did was answering them from the bottom of my heart.

"What if your students asked you about difficult words that they cannot understand? What should you do?"

"I will ask them to check from Mr Dict," they burst out laughing at my answer. 

Seriously at that time, I didn't realize that Dict sounded really like Dick. But, that was exactly what my form 5 English teacher said to refer to our dictionary. Mr Dict.

While some of them were still laughing, I remember one of them, Puan Rozana (God bless you always) said:

"Come as you are, Noorul. Come as you are into this world of teaching"

And I definitely did it!

You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift!

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you

Been here all along so why can't you see

You belong with me

Standing by waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know baby

You belong with me

It was rather a tiring day today. 

Fate has spelled that I got to wake up late almost every Wednesday morning, sending everyone on their feet straightaway as soon as I realised I had accidentally dismissed my alarm and had overslept again. Hurriedly, my hubby jumped straight into the bathroom. My small family depended on me in getting up to school and work (yes, you had to agree with me this time, Mr Hubby).

Then, Sofea was quite easy to handle since I lifted her up from the bed and put her on the toilet seat and lifted her again to be put in the bath tub, under the shower. She didn't even have to open her eyes but she still had to brush her teeth though. She would only 'wake up' when I dried her up. So I did all those things so fast to catch up with time.

I put her in her school uniform as swiftly as I can. Once done, she would go down the stairs to have  her breakfast. The maid was already waiting. But the bad news was, her favourite bread went missing so she refused to replace the bread with any other bread available. But I couldn't entertain her today, I just shoved her into the car and then we sped to our destinations.

Oh! I am supposed to be on duty almost every Wednesday, handling the school assembly in English. But fate smiled cheekily on me since I am also late almost every Wednesday too. But luckily today, I managed to take over and dismissed the assembly on time. Phew!

The first class I went to was after the assembly. There was a rude boy who refused to follow my simple orders of getting ready for the exam. When ignored and rudely replied, I said to him very clearly and sternly, with my face made from Hell, and my index finger pointing to his nose level, "Nasib baik kau dijadikan sebagai manusia..." (luckily that you are created as human...) and how I wished I could continue saying: "If you were born as a pig, I would have shot you and roasted you well." But of course, I didn't say that. But the boy got the message anyway and sat down and followed orders. When you don't have enough counselling time, you just need to be a Mafia to have everything under control. Oh shut up! Save your opinion about education and role model. I had to start the exam on time.

Entering the second class for the day was fine. I anticipated that the boys would be noisy and non-cooperative. Yes they were. But they have been with me for quite some time now. I have known some of them for years. They too, know me a bit too well. So, when the roughest boy stood up in the middle of the exam to annoy his friends, I just knew what to do and he just followed the orders 'obediently'. The exam went smooth.

The last class for the day spelled disaster for me.

They were already answering their exam papers when I went into the class. Most of the heads were on the table. Some hopefuls were struggling with their answers. I settled down, sitting at the very back of the class so I could watch them over. I took out my red pen to mark my students' exam papers. But I saw my BB was blinking. A message.

"Why didn't you answer me?" My superior asked me through the message.

I typed the reason for keeping quiet. For the late reply. I apologised, of course. It was unintentional. I replied in lengthy. I pressed the send button. My BB went dead. Great! I took a deep breath. I hate this!

I tried to initialise the phone again. Failed. I tried again. It was successful the second time but I already got the second message. I think she went impatient with me already. I was warned for my inability to answer to her. 

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I answered. 

The phone went dead again. Oh, I was as dead as the phone. That short reply must have sounded rude and ignorant. My couldn't-care-less attitude shown. But that wasn't my intention. Really.

Then, there were voices of my students. One of them had gone out of the class in the middle of the exam. Oh great! Thank God for such a lovely Wednesday. After 20 long minutes, the boy came back to class. Smiling. Feeling proud. I smiled back. There was no use of getting angry to this boy. He was a gone case. At least he came back safe to class and was still alive. And he didn't bring back any corpse with him too. No dagger. No blood. No dagger with blood. Okay, everything was fine.

When the school bell finally rang, I went to a shopping mall, had my clothes changed, back into my car and played my guitar. I felt terribly tired today. And when the time was up for the next music lesson, my teacher asked me whether or not I was fine. Of course I said yes. (Oh, someone did finally ask me about how my day was!)

He checked last week's assignment on plucking and then he taught me some basic strumming. But I was quite too fast on catching up with the strumming, so he crammed three lessons into one. Then he gave me a new assignment for the week.

"Do you know You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift?" He asked cheerfully.

"Oh. Swift? No." I smiled meekly.

Actually, I know Swift's songs but that No was that... I just didn't want to rush. To move swiftly again? I think I need to slow down. 

Dreamy

I dream of living with all my loved ones in proximity. At the moment, my parents and siblings are all scattered everywhere in the country. Some are quite close, but very much distant by work and other private matters. I haven't seen my parents for quite some time now. I miss them very much.

Once in a while we talk over the phone, with my dad always passing the phone quite too quickly to my mum. And there is nothing much discussed except about my kids and my school work. Of all my siblings, I am the only one who works as a teacher. Just like my parents. Proudly.

I dream of playing good music to entertain myself. Thus, at this very age, where people start prioritizing something 'more important', I go back starting what I have started long ago but didn't finish. This time around, I will ensure that I gotta do what I like doing, and not allowing others to suppress me from doing it. Slowly and patiently, I will start from the beginning.

I dream of having all close friends together, very close with me, where we share our hopes and ambitions in bettering our lives. When any attack comes upon us, we have an unquestionable defense to rely on. Where we know exactly when to come to aids when any of us is in troubles.

I dream of a life without sickness. Physical and mental sickness. Sickness is one thing that degrades us from being our best. When we are sick physically, we stop functioning the way we always function. We try to accommodate the pain and try to ease the pain away, no matter what. Mental sickness is the worst of all sicknesses. Those with mental sickness can actually reach the stage where they stop being humans altogether.

I believe that a life full of dreams is a life worth living. Those dreams make humans humane. No matter how many dreams enliven your life at the moment, keep dreaming. Because you will never know when....

...your dreams are finally shattered.

The Same Old Stories

She's been on my mind for quite some time now.

Whenever I have the time to speak to her during class, I will ask her a few questions. The same old stories.

But a whole lot of understanding towards the definition of struggle, happiness and sadness. I used to think that it is just impossible to live a life like what she's been living now. But she's the living proof. At least she is one of the many people who share the same fate as hers.

It all started when I noticed her staying in class with some rations to eat during recess. I asked her to go to the canteen to join other kids having their break. She politely refused. Between her smiles and silent giggles, she admitted of frequently bringing food from home to munch. And that is if she has something to bring. Always, there are some bread and plain water. 

So the conversation stopped there.

And it soon continued when I got to know her more. She is an orphan. The mother is unemployed as she is also unwell, receiving small funds from the government to feed all mouths in the house. Only few hundreds Ringgit Malaysia monthly for 5 members staying in the house in the middle of the country's capital city. They have nowhere else to go but staying put in this big city as the house is theirs.

That house is their only possession. Apart from having each other as a family. They survive. Happily so far.

I know she is not the only one. She isn't the worst. 

There are many others who come from broken homes, where there is no food at all on the table. Don't mention of having decent meals, even some bites are impossible. Let alone having some pocket money to spend. Some of them find ways to cover for the hunger by going to the canteen and "share" others' food by hook or by crook. They would normally ask, when ignored or denied, they would snatch the food from their friends' plates. They are normally boys.

Try to put your hungry kids at a table for a couple of hours and ask them to read and concentrate. Ask them to respond. Ask them to communicate, give ideas and find answers. If I were one of the kids, I would have fainted first, then, got up again and puked. I might vomit on the books, on my friends' heads and also on the teacher's feet. For all I know, it is quite impossible to study when you are damn hungry.

"Mummy, when are we going for the holidays?"

"There are many others who cannot even make it to the canteen today, you know?"

"Hah? What is that? What are you talking about, mummy?"

"Oh Sofea..."

Love Stories

I revised some language items with my students yesterday.

A single period lesson. The shortest one ever. It was short because we had great fun, cracking jokes and making fun of the newly-found lovebirds in my class.

Other students were rather excited, making naughty sounds when the couple was teased. The kids were so alive. They could even understand the examples illustrated easily when it came to talking about love and some sort of 'forbidden' adult topics.

But, hey, there was no pornographic description whatsoever. No. I didn't go there. Not in a million years with these kids. Not with any kid at all, anyway.

I think these kids are very lucky. A whole lot luckier than me, at least.

Not because they have such a cool English teacher, who at times goes berserk, destructively frenzied and deranged over their stupidity and laziness. And also, not because due to the fact that the English teacher is a gorgeous looking lady (but yeah...with some bumps here and there to hide, I admit the weekly weight-putting anyway...haha).

But because, these kids nowadays can openly share their newly-found love with their teachers. And these teachers, I believe, are rather supportive of them. Unlike during my school days, whoever was in a relationship should go undercover. No coupling was allowed.

No meeting. No dating. Oh, did you mention kissing? That was a big NO! 

The reason?

I think they were scared that this kind of relationship would be an agent of destruction rather than a catalyst of improvement. To us. To our education. To our morale and morality.

But I believe, now that I realize, the more we forbid the kids from doing something they love, the more will they try to put their effort in proving us wrong. They will find ways to glorify their love. 

When openly is forbidden, they will do it secretly. When they think they have no place to share their love stories, they will go so far away, being lost in their new world, just for the sake of wanting to tell the world about their feelings. 

"Are you okay with this coupling thing, teacher?" This one special boy asked me.

"Oh why not? When you have finally found a girl of your dream, love her. Give her your attention. Give her some gifts to show you care. But, respect the boundaries."

"The boundaries? What boundaries?"

"No meeting. No dating. Hah...stop imagining of kissing and touching her!"

"What?! Oh man!"

STOP!

Come on dear. 

Stop being judge and jury, passing judgments about others without you knowing the truth. 

What makes you think that you are hundred percent correct? Even if you think that you have the sixth, seventh or eighth sense, who wants your opinion anyway? Especially about others' flaws?

Don't you think it is terribly unjust to label someone according to your preference and convenience?

The tables might be turned one day. Those whom you hurt today, might be the one who will help you one day. And all those hurtful comments and remarks will be one day just describing you or your kids.

Keep your opinion to yourself.

Be fair in giving advice.

People have feelings.

Even animals too.

The Heartrending Rain

It was a normal day today.

Only that it rained heavily at the end of the hot afternoon. I felt that as if the rain fell in bulk, being forced to fall out of the sky and being pulled down by the high speed gravity. Thank God that the car's roof was still fine and intact.

I glanced at my daughter beside me. She was quiet. She might be lost in her world, wondering whether or not her superhero Sonic Hedgehog would love Amy-whatever-her-full-name-was wholeheartedly. She might be counting how many times the wipers went swishing on the windscreen. She might be thinking about the junk food that she would have had when we reached home.

I wasn't sure but still, I didn't ask. Because I was lost in my world too.

That long glanced however was suddenly stopped by a stalled motorcycle in front of our car. 

"Goodness Gracious! What the hell are you doing that for!"

I felt like I stopped breathing as my foot pushing for the brake. The car had to stop immediately! And my right hand was pressing the car's horn. It went blaring so loud, I thought I had sent the signal alright.

I cursed the motorists in my heart. One for riding in the rain this heavy and not making a stop for safety. Two, for suddenly stopping in the middle of the road where it could cause fatalities.

Then I turned my car to the right and passed them very slowly. My eyes were sharp as I was overwhelmed with anger. I would want to scold them high and low if I could, for giving me such a trouble.

But my eyes caught something so disturbing. And those angry feelings vanished at once, gone with the heavy rain, as fast as the flow of the rain water.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!"

This time around I whispered quietly, but it was loud enough for I knew Sofea could hear me. I just could not understand why bad things could really happen the way they happened. I felt so sad. That was what we called as unfair.

Oh, yes. And who said that life is fair, anyway? Life isn't fair and never was. And sometimes, no, many times in fact, that I questioned God for allowing bad things to happen to good helpless people and at the same time, allowing those snobbish terrible people to live happily, here in His earth.

Ah...yes, here in His earth. Hopefully God, You will grant heaven to those who patiently persevere all hardships given to them. You promised us that. I know for sure You never break Your promises.

I had to continue the journey at once because there were many cars closely following at the back. From the rear mirror, the motorists were struggling to stand straight to save their possessions and to balance the motorcycle at the same time.

Eventually anyway, they lost their balance and they fell down. All of their things were scattered on the middle of the road. Luckily, the traffic was then slowed down. I don't think they were hurt, but they were terribly drenched.

My heart was broken by today's rain. The rain that some people enjoyed so much, coiling themselves in the blankets. Feeling the blissful cold that the rain brought along. My heart ached not simply because the motorists fell down in the rain. Not about the things that went scattered.

And I even felt more disgusted with my previous anger. 

My heart was torn upon seeing: in between of the motorist and his lady passenger, gasping for air, trying  very hard to breathe, in the middle of that heavy rain, breathing the air bubbles and drinking the bulky raindrops, on that fateful motorcycle.....

...there was a tiny baby!

Love Is In The Air

Love is in the air.

Definitely.

I feel God's love at the moment.
He gives me this pain.
The pain that I know all too well.
So, He does remember me!
Woohoo! Yeay!
This might be a way of Him fogiving me.
Or punishing me altogether for all my ridiculous sins.
I love you too, God. You know I do.
How can I not love You, when I depend so much on You?
I walk on Your earth, talk to Your other creations,
I dream of Your dreams and I love you simply because...
I breathe Your air, remember? I breathe Your air in the body You lend me.
So God, can You please allow me to use my tongue once again,
without any pain this time around?
We will talk about the punishments a little bit later in the other life, ya?

"With this pain, I grant you comfort. With this patience, I grant you heaven"
I think I want to believe those are Your promises.
Aren't they, God?

How can I not reciprocate to such a promise?

Love is in the air.

Till Deaths Do Us Part

I've been bugged down by this viral fever for 4 days now. Each day successfully passed by ignoring the pain, the temperature that shot high once in a while, especially at night. My dearest husband was caught by the annoying virus first, at his office, maybe through his boss, if my recollection is correct. He tried to fight the fever too, only surrendered when I suggested him for a check up at a clinic near our house. The night trip to the clinic as I remember, wasn't that long but the clinic was fully packed, with kids and adults.

"Everyone is sick, everyday. Every single day." I told my 5B students. This is my class, I am their form teacher. I've been handling them since last year. So I know them by heart now. I know their antics, I know their parents' antics too. I know their strengths, as much as I know their weaknesses, although they wish I do not know them too much, fearing that I would use any information about them against them. I was particularly pissed off that day when two boys kept disappearing from school and used health as their excuses. Frankly, one was saying he had migraine every alternate day and the other one had problems with his toe. One particular toe. Excuses. 

"You just need to find ways to stay healthy. When you are sick, cure the sickness so that you can be well again. Or if you refuse to be cured, ignore the pain and face the world as if you are well, the healthiest person on earth. Either way, think first before you skip your school."

I think I said that to the class. My class attendance was quite ugly for February with these kids ignoring excuse letters from parents and no MC whatsoever when they were absent. I told them that with a pinch of seriousness on my face, hopefully they would get the message. I hope they did.

As I type this, I have the option to go to the clinic and ask for a medical leave. I am unwell. But, thinking of the kids at school, the long awaiting list of undone work, and of course, thinking of the people I promise of working together tomorrow, I shall set aside the pain. The pain can be ignored again at the moment.

My bluebird of happiness is sick too. She is going to skip school. The difference between this bird and those two boys is vast. First, she is 6. The boys are 17. My bird still has a long way to go. The boys are going to finish their schooling soon. And this bird does not know how to lie yet. She is ill, we went to a specialist and the specialist asked her to rest. The boys? I am yet to see their approval of absenteeism.

Please boys,

My dearest boys.

I love you like my own brothers.

I know your potential, but the potential is denied by the masters who are simply lazy.

Come to school.

Everyday.

When you are well.

Coz when I am slightly unwell, I will still come to school.

Hoping that only deaths do us part.

Between blog and nose block

It is one of the hottest days that we normally have now. And I feel cold. I have nose block at the moment. And my two chipmunks, the munchiest of the munches, are trying to discourage me from doing things that I don't really wanna do. But I still do. What the heck...hahaha...I love to complicate easy things. To put some thrills, as if life is too dull, too stagnant that I need to torture myself into doing things that I don't  really like doing.

Blogging.

No. This is so not me.

I don't blog.

I am no blogger.

Hahaha.

There is one person on this beautiful world really thinks that I should blog. She is indeed persistent. Always encouraging and positively calm when it comes to handling my insane replies and rants on why I shouldn't do as told.

Coz I am difficult.

She is the easy one.

She accepts things around her more willingly than I do.

I always question. I have questions for every answer given.

But often, I fail to answer every question asked.

She is the best of friends that I have.

She draws me near when I go so far astray, away in the dark.

She shows the light when I am sure there is no hope available.

She is a lender... of things and ideas she abundantly has,

Of shoulders and back to support me up,

And of course, she lends me her love that gradually brings me to this writing.

I dedicate my writing to those who believe in me.

I dedicate this blog for you.

With love.

Definitely.