Monday, February 12, 2007

story of a girl

I was on my way to the faculty on foot when two primary school children, a boy and a girl with their bicycles caught my eyes. The girl was talking to our faculty guard at the gate when I walked past them, but I could not make out what she said. My intuition spoke that the school girl needed help because normally children would go for men in police uniforms whenever they are in trouble and expecting them to be able to solve their problems. So I stopped and turned to look back at them, trying to figure out what it was all about.

From afar, I heard our guard said to her, “Takpe, naik je. Boleh…” and the girl turned and walked away with her little brother, both pushing their bicycles along instead of riding them. I did not know why I did it, but I started walking back to the gate, took the left turn and jogged slightly to catch up with the two siblings. From behind, I noticed that the girl’s bicycle had a flat tire. Completely flat.

“Adik, tayar pancit ke?” I asked, loud enough for her to hear me. When she looked, I saw her eyes red and moist with tears. Perhaps she noticed my surprised expression upon seeing her cried, and that was why she quickly looked down. There was silence for a few moments while she struggled to get her voice back. She failed, so she simply nodded slightly, still refusing to let me see her cried. I joined her in silence, walked along with her, while her brother pushed his bicycle ahead of us. After a few seconds, when I thought it was the right time to speak, I opened my mouth.

“Tayar pancit kat sekolah ke?” She nodded again, but this time there was eye contact. Her tears had dried out and her eyes were no longer red. I do not remember seeing she wiped her tears.
“Adik sekolah mana?” This time I received verbal answer. “Seksyen 17.”
“Oh, ye la. Mana ada sekolah lain dah kat sini. Adik darjah berapa?”
“Darjah lima.” I could actually feel that this girl began to relax.
Then I popped up the question. “Kenapa tayar pancit? Tak pam dulu ke?”
“Kena paku. Ada orang letak paku kat tayar…” she whined. To prove it, she slowed down but still pushing the bicycle forward with her left hand on the handle bar and her right hand on the seat. Her eyes were fixed on the flat tire, pushing very slowly, waited for the stupid tacks to appear. I saw them. Two thumbtacks stuck right through the tire and definitely tore the rubber tube within.

I had a strong feeling that someone did stuck the tacks in, but we can not simply make assumptions without having any proof especially if we tend to blame other people, so I said, “Adik langgar paku kat tengah jalan kot?”
“Tak, masa saya nak balik dia dah pancit.” So I see. I guess there was someone behind this after all. Then I asked her the reason she talked to our faculty guard before.
“Saya nak tinggal basikal kat situ, kemudian suruh mak saya datang ambil. Tapi pak cik tu tak bagi.” At that moment, I felt very ashamed of our faculty guards. This primary school girl was in trouble, but I hate to think that the guards did not put an effort in trying to help her or at least consoled her. I hate to know that our Malaysian community has no feeling of sorry or empathy, the awareness as well as the responsibility to help others. I mean, what is wrong with letting the troubled 11-year-old girl to leave her bicycle at our faculty? Does anyone even care if they see a young girl pushing her bicycle along with tears streaming down her face?

I offered this girl to bring her flat-tired bicycle to be mended, but she refused. Therefore, there was nothing I could do other than accompanied her home together with her younger brother. I had no idea why I walked along with her, but I just had the feeling that this school girl needed someone to be with her. I know how it feels to walk home with a flat tire because it used to happen to me when I was in secondary school. It was a horrible experience. But to have a useless bicycle because of someone else’s fault, it must be worse.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You write very well.