Moving his lap up and down, dad asked, "Which school would you like to go, malay or english?"
Without thinking, I answered, "English!"
That was it. After I was six years old, dad brought me on his Vespa scooter to a school in town, about six miles away from our dear house. The school was 'Ismail School Two'. The school was very big, the buildings very tall, the top part seemed as if staring down at me, ready to devour me. I became a little frightened and uncomfortable. That made me keep as close to dad as possible while we made our way among the crowd. I looked around. All were new faces, there was not even one face that looked familiar to me.
"Hold your partners' hands", she barked her orders. I looked around me, but could not find dad. Where was he?
Then the chinese teacher instructed us to walk. Where would he bring us to?