KUALA LUMPUR: EVERYONE has stories to tell about his or her teachers. I have plenty. Teachers who taught me lessons on academic subjects and life. There are teachers who have become my friends until this day.
This article is dedicated to a few teachers whom I regard as game changers and who made meaningful and invaluable contributions to my life and made me who I am today.
Let me start with my primary school teacher — Mr Rashid, an Indian immigrant, who taught me English at a school in Kuala Kubu Baru in the early 1970s. As far as I can recall, he gave his heart and soul to his vocation. He did not just teach grammar and sentence structure, he taught us how to articulate and express ourselves through songs and drama.
I remember acting in an Oscar Hammerstein’s play, The King and I, in which I played King Mongkut and the sweetest girl in Standard 6A played Anna Leonewens. It was hard to remember the dialogue and hence, he made us come on Saturdays for rehearsals. We practised our lines through the songs that he created with different melodies for the dialogue.
I only understood the reason he did that when I saw my first West End musical in London two decades ago in my early 30s. Through music and lyrics, I understood the beauty of the English language. How I wish English language teachers now could teach the language to my children through drama and songs. Game-changing lessons from Rashid — it led me to write award-winning films and documentary scripts. One of them was a period feature film titled Embun and a documentary on art and history in Malaysia.
In lower secondary school, I was introduced to literature by Mr Lee. I learnt to read books like Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope and The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. Apart from that, he made us read abridged editions of novels that inspired us to appreciate literature more. That was when I started to take reading seriously. Game-changing lessons — reading became my numero uno passion.
I moved to Kelantan in 1978 at a time of political turmoil in Pas’ rank and file. At Sultan Ismail College, there was Mr Rama, who taught me English 121, a Cambridge O-level English. He taught me how to write English essays and letters. I can still recall his words: “Write every day for at least an hour, write about anything, about everything and about nothing. Write descriptively and creatively.” His intention — to encourage his students to write diligently although there was no sense in the content. Just write and write more. Game-changing values — I live to love creative and descriptive writing.
I moved again in 1979 to do my Form Six at Sekolah Menengah Sultan Badlishah in Kulim, Kedah.
This was the school where I met my wife, who is a teacher, and this was where I was taught History by this larger-than-life Cikgu Salimah. I used to hate History class but Cikgu Salimah had a clever and creative way of imparting her stylised knowledge of history. She would pick a subject matter and narrated history like a storyteller, a bit dramatic and high on climaxes. She would use characters in actual history, recreating images in our heads to understand the story of some historical events. She would always say: “Forget the dates of historical events.” Lessons learnt — I love history. History maketh men and manners!
These are the few teachers who breathed inspiration into me as a student. There are many others who have affected me one way or another. I also owe my deepest appreciation to my eldest sister, Kamariah Haroon, now a retired teacher who first taught me how to read.
Kamariah was one of the best teachers I ever had. I was never good in academics and she taught me all that I needed to know ever since when I was in Standard Three. I was a late bloomer, and a slow learner.
Every time she came back from teacher’s training college after our father’s demise, she would get me to read, write and count. It was a difficult phase for me at that age. I used to hate everything that had alphabets, and textbooks. Even worse, I hated words that were constructed to form a sentence that needed comprehension from my little brain. Then, there was this thing called concept, like the ones in science and mathematics.
I became a really good pupil when I was in Standard Five. I scored all As, including in Geography, for which I scored a perfect 100 per cent. My class teacher of 5C paraded me in front of Class 5A, much to the chagrin of the smarter children in that class. I was proud of myself but never got to thank my sister — I didn’t have a reason for it then, and I don’t now, either. I guessed I was just too afraid of her. At the end of the year, I emerged first in class. During the prize-giving day, the school gave me my first hardcover book with pictures titled Three Little Pigs. What? Yes, Three Little Pigs.
From the Three Little Pigs, I was inspired to read more children’s literature like Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Treasure Island and young adult novels.
I do not know where my teachers are now, but I shall never forget their selfless efforts to educate the good people of this blessed nation.
Thank you, Kak Pah and the teachers who taught me, and for inspiring me to be what I am today. Happy Teachers Day!