It didn’t really sink into my mind that I’m in a small kampung away from the city with pretty much, nothing. If I need to go to the bank, I will have to go to Temerloh, looks like even to get a loaf of bread I will need a mode of transportation to take me to the nearest little grocery shop. What’s here? Well, there’s a post office, a police station, a small grocery shop, a dead library, schools, ‘pekan sehari’ is here once a week and…lots and lots of green with tropical fruits everywhere! First 2 days here, I CRIED! I cried while unpacking my stuffs into that dusty and smelly cupboard, I cried when I talked to my grandma on the phone, I also cried before I went to sleep at night. In school, I was only doing relief for other teachers. I entered a few classes; form 3, 4, 5 and 6. I did the usual thing most new teachers would do: introduced myself and tried to get them to introduce themselves to me. Out of the four classes one particular class gave me a huge reality check. I was anxious to enter this class because it’s an all boys class. 4A is the last class also known as the academically challenged group of students. They are doing the domestic building stream and they can only do hands-on stuffs. I wanted to test their ability a little so I did this dictation activity. I said the words and they copied accordingly. Obviously, as expected there were a lot of noise especially when they did not get what I was saying or when they weren’t sure of spelling of some words. However that was not the worst part. I noticed a boy who was smaller than an average 16 year old boy. He isolated himself at the corner near the window. He was struggling through the process of writing those words I uttered and as I went closer to him I realized he wasn’t writing what I have been saying. Instead of writing a paragraph of ‘About Myself’, he was writing in point form. I could show you the sample. I hope I still keep it. He managed to write his name with his kindergarten-like handwriting and that was it. Could it be that this boy at the age of 16 and after 9 years of schooling, do not know how to read and write? That is definitely the case. The poor little boy just gaze at the window…he comes to school everyday but for what…There’s a story behind it I’m pretty sure…Oh, pity the boy. But what can I do? There is just too many who need help, and obviously left behind.