The commencement of the year-end break, which I had eagerly awaited, had begun its countdown. In just a few days, I would finally be heading home, a thought that filled me with joy and anticipation. It had been a long time since I last set foot in my humble abode.
As the days passed, the circumstances seemed to take a more favourable turn, filling me with a sense of peace. The realization that this eventful year was coming to an end brought a deep sense of relief.
The final days before the long-awaited holiday unfolded at a leisurely pace, allowing me to savour each moment. It was during this time that I began to notice a subtle yet undeniable transformation within me. My face, once full of youthful innocence, now showed signs of maturity, with more defined features and a slimmer stature.
As adolescence beckoned, my thoughts started to delve into deeper, more contemplative realms. Unlike before, when I had been content to observe life passively, I now felt a newfound sense of purpose and awareness.
However, just as we were about to bid farewell to another school year and embark on our eagerly anticipated break, an unexpected and unwelcome surprise disrupted our plans. Encik Hussin had decided to organize a motivation workshop for the Form 2 students during the first week of our holiday. This meant that our much-anticipated holiday would be postponed by a whole week.
I was shocked at the idea of enduring another motivational workshop at the end of the school year. I had no idea when Encik Hussin had planned this, and my emotions were a mix of anger and disappointment. It meant that we would have to spend even more time in the Asrama before finally going home.
The stated purpose of this workshop was to prepare us for the upcoming PMR examinations in the following year. Encik Hussin argued passionately that this program was essential to give us the right mindset and tools to excel in the exams.
I couldn't help but suspect that this was just another way for the Asrama to spend its budget. It seemed like these programs were organized just to use up the allocated funds. I couldn't understand why the Asrama was so committed to these endeavours.
During our Form 2 days, our weekends were filled with various subject workshops that lasted for two days each. These workshops, starting on Saturday morning and ending on Sunday afternoon, took away our precious weekend rest. If life during my Form 2 year had been challenging, I could only imagine how tough the upcoming Form 3 year would be.
Motivational programs were no exception to this demanding schedule. I remember one such program that was held outside of our Asrama premises. We were divided into two groups, and my group was sent to Ulu Tiram, where we attended what was called a motivational camp.
To be honest, I couldn't quite grasp the essence of the program, as the facilitator assigned to our group didn't leave much of an impact. The activities we participated in lacked inspiration. Of course, my perception may have differed from that of my peers.
One vivid memory from that camp was the discoloured pool water, which looked more like teh tarik drink. We were expected to do activities in that unappealing water to test our resolve. The foul smell emanating from the pool was nauseating, and our clothes came out with a strange yellowish tint.
Later, we were divided into groups, each led by a facilitator. Our facilitator had us engage in a rather uninspiring activity where we had to create a line using only the resources immediately available to us within a set time frame. As we frantically untangled shoelaces and tried to use any available material to extend the line, our clothes suffered due to our efforts. To this day, I remain puzzled about the relevance of this activity in the context of motivation.
With our holiday plans postponed, my school classmates and I decided to participate in a class football tournament that took place during the last days of the school year. Since our class was all-male, forming a strong team was not a challenge. In fact, we could have easily formed two Malay majority teams from our group.
Interestingly, the RK class chose not to participate in this event, despite having a significant number of Malay male students. I didn't dwell on this mystery, as the unity within our own class, bridging the gap between city and Asrama students, was what mattered most.
Despite my limited football skills, I was honoured to be part of the first team. The reason for my selection remained a mystery, but I embraced the opportunity with enthusiasm. With our holidays postponed, the school didn't offer many other leisure activities.
Finally, the day of the tournament arrived, and we entered the competition with great excitement. The anticipation among us was palpable. We put into practice the skills we had learned during our PJ classes. Before the matches began, I felt a bit nervous as it was my first time playing in a football match.
A crowd of spectators watched us from the sidelines, which made me self-conscious and uneasy. I was worried that my shortcomings would be exposed for all to see. However, our team had several skilled players. Despite being known as the "smart" class, we had no intention of losing in sports.
As the football tournament progressed, our joy increased with each victory. We defeated opponents, including the Form 3 class, thanks to the skills of our talented players. Our teachers, amused and impressed, had to acknowledge our class's abilities not only in academics but also in sports. Unfortunately, our second team didn't perform as well.
Nevertheless, we still held hopes of winning the overall championship as the competition continued into the next day. However, our dreams were shattered when Encik Hussin unexpectedly intervened. To our dismay, he prevented us from attending school the next day, despite our eagerness to continue competing. His decision left us deeply disappointed, and his lack of understanding about our desire to play was frustrating.
Encik Hussin objected to our plans, believing that we lacked the necessary formal authorization from the school and that there were no such tournaments. Even as we tried to explain our point of view, he remained stubborn. He insisted that we needed the school's letter to participate in this extracurricular activity. My frustration and anger with him reached new heights; this was one transgression too many.
Adding to our frustration, he downplayed the significance of the tournament itself. He suggested that if our holidays had not been postponed, we would not have been interested in the game at all. He questioned our enthusiasm for football at that time.
I was disheartened by his words. It was true that if our holidays had not been postponed, we might not have played in the match. However, to me, the football match was a way to cope with the disappointment of the delay. Did Encik Hussin not realize how upset the students and I were when we learned about the postponement? Denying us even this small source of happiness felt like another cruelty.
Amidst our confusion, we discussed our next steps. Despite the setback, we felt a responsibility to our non-asrama teammates and the competition itself. The event had already started the day before, and our non-asrama teammates were counting on us. I couldn't bear the thought of letting them down.
I couldn't help but wonder why Encik Hussin had not allowed us to stay at the school the previous day. If he had, it would have lessened our disappointment. And what about our non-asrama teammates? How disappointed would they be if we didn't show up?
One of us took on the task of contacting the school and reaching out to the teacher in charge of the competition. Miraculously, he managed to make contact and explain our situation.
The understanding teacher, empathizing with our predicament, communicated with Encik Hussin through phone call and clarified the circumstances. With minimal delay, Encik Hussin granted his approval for us to attend the match. The relief and happiness we felt at that moment were indescribable.
We quickly boarded the bus, driven by Pakcik Awal, who navigated the roads with newfound enthusiasm. His excitement mirrored our own.
Upon arriving at the school field, we were greeted by the joyful faces of the non-asrama teammates. We had persevered and made it to the finals. In the decisive match, we showed incredible spirit, but luck was not on our side, and we lost due to a final penalty kick. Nevertheless, a deep sense of satisfaction filled me.
This event had turned into a memorable spectacle, leaving a lasting impact on me. I had never imagined that, within such a short period, Encik Hussin could exert such a significant influence on my life, a pressure I had not anticipated.
No comments:
Post a Comment