A boy named Zafran.... (part 2)

Zafran, the new candle that lights up my path as a teacher. The child who broaden my vista, the one who opened my mind to see and to give empathy to others. Zafran became my greatest teacher.

Born like any other child, Zafran lived a happy, normal life. But cunning was mishap, predicament befell him at the age of 2. An accident that cost him his life. A fall down the stairs, the skull shattered and left the boy in a comatose state. Replaced with a synthetic skull, doctor gave no guarantee that he will be normal, ever again.  With such injury on the head and with only one eye working, Zafran was presumed handicap-able. Few months later, doctors were pleasantly nonplussed as Zafran started running again.  

The imprint of the injury still lingers to this date. The fits that he has occasionally is the result of  the freak accident- a post traumatic epileptic seizure. What he had gone through was definitely more than any of the other children had gone through. He faces life heads on and never did he ever complained. 

You have taught me well and I hope you'll do well in your future, you brave brave boy...

A boy named Zafran.... (part 1)

Last Saturday turned out to be 'the' most memorable event in my years of teaching (well, up to this point). The day appeared to be just like any other ordinary day and that was where the twist came in. I was having English period with my year 4 and things got ugly. Not literally though. One boy of mine, in fact one of my favourites, had an epileptic seizure. Gave me a fright he was. 

A read-aloud comprehension session was soon replaced by an agonizing scream. I looked back and saw, to my horror, the boy holding his finger as if it was caught on fire. Barely reaching out for his shoulders, the boy, continued with his screams, now, as it seemed, tried to bury one of his arms into the chest.  

The anguish pain was soon replaced by a sick, gurgling sound. The head jerked uncontrollably, the mouth twitching to the sides in a frenzy. In an attempt to do something, I tried to carry the boy, but futile it was, the best I could do was to drag him onto the floor and laid him there. 

Feeling impotent, I screamed for help, not knowing what to do, I shouted at some pupils to get help, shouted at some more, pleading for space and air for the poor child . Few minutes later the fits seemed to slow down. Holding the boy in my arms, calling out his names, praying and wishing that the boy will gain consciousness any time soon, I took a gallant step to check for the breath. Registering what was happening, I completely lost it, shouted at the remaining pupils to get help from the staffroom. With a whole crowd of pupils rushing to search for aid, I was left alone (with one or two pupils), fat tears forming at the sides of the eyes; "He stopped breathing", I repeated countless of time in my head....

By the time aid is here, it will be too late, I told myself in despair. Just then, the boy resuscitated, swaying with minimal control of the body. Murky it was, now the room seemed to be dazzling and blinking. Aid came one tad bit too slow but all was well. 

The boy was rushed to the hospital but the aftermath of the event lingered. The heart palpitated like there was no tomorrow and all colours drained from my face. If something were to happen to the boy, I would have blamed me for the rest of my pitiful life, I told myself in great disgust.   

One month after...

This is the first post after a month being a teacher... Honestly speaking, I'm in love with this job! I love all the kids. Well, most of the kids. So far, my favourite class is year 6 Cekal. And I love teaching art!! I love being called Mr. Tan (I don't like to be called sir Tan, sounded like Setan). 

Anyhow, Something funny happened today. No, actually two funny things happened today. I went into the year 3 Intan today and as usual I asked them to finish the art I asked them to do for the past three weeks. AND as usual, when they were doing the colouring/pasting, I walked around to monitor their progress. So when I came to this table, a boy was talking fast to me. Let's call the boy, boy T. He knew from previous weeks, I have a ps3, so he kept asking me about games and whatnot. Then, quite abruptly, he said this, "Cigu. Cigu kenal Shahmi? Cigu kenalkan? Shami gitau Tammy yang Shami slalu chat sama cigu dalam facebook." Not really paying attention, I asked: "Tammy ane sapa?" He pointed to his reddening face and replied: "aku" and the whole class was laughing. I had no idea the whole class was eavesdropping. haha, I'm so useless. Poor kid he was. 

I went to Nurul's class to observe her teaching year 6 Ceria for art. When I went upstairs, the class was really chaotic. Pupils were running and some girls kept requesting permission to look for Nurul. Because the requests were persistent and because the boys were misbehaving, I decided to 'erupt' in the class (although I'm not supposed to teach them). I yelled myself hoarse and did my best to do a scary stern look and I guess it paid off because I managed to control the class. While I was yelling, I saw my cousin as well as some other children (who is in year 5, next door) peeking into the class. I thought to myself, "wow! I must be really loud that the kids next door came peering to investigate the source of the noise".

During the journey home, I asked to my cousin, "I looked scary just now right?" She replied: "No, not at all. I felt like laughing". TOINK! Then I continued: "How come you guys were there when i was yelling? My voice must be booming then?" She replied: "booming? I can't hear you at all. We were just drinking, that's all"