Once upon a time, early January of 2001, a timid yet enthusiastic little boy walked through the wooden doors of the Multi-Purpose Hall at Rimba with his parents, to the sight of another hundred or so fresh-faced little boys and little girls, also with their parents, wearing proudly their new uniforms. The little boy knew none but a few of them, and he was excited at the prospect of making new friends with the other little boys and little girls. That day was the day the little boy first stepped on Maktab Sains’ grounds.
Today, that little boy is standing in front of you, presenting this very speech, not as little as he used to be. Not as timid as he used to be. But still as enthusiastic as he was then, if not more.
Time passes by so quickly. I know it’s a cliché, but it’s only a cliché because it’s so true. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Six years. Six truly wonderful years, in which I’ve made some wonderful friends and been taught by wonderful teachers. Yet no matter how many wonderfuls I use in a sentence, it will never be enough to describe how I enjoyed those six years. If I had the opportunity to start over, I’ll do everything just as I did them then. Every decision. Every mistake. Every single moment.
There’re some lines from a song I particularly like, from The Ataris, called ‘In This Diary’. The chorus goes:
‘Being grown up,
Isn’t half as fun as growing up,
These are the best days of our lives.
The only thing that matters is just
Following your heart,
And eventually you’ll finally get it right.’
I basically shaped my life’s principles around these lines. I learned to enjoy myself. I learned to trust my instincts. I learned to not take life too seriously and always look at the bright side of it. And best of all, I learned to be a teenager.
But I never ignored my responsibilities as a student, especially being a member of a school as high a stature as Maktab Sains. I wasn’t the best student to work with when it came to homework or assignments. Just ask some of my former teachers. But I always listened to what the teachers taught me. I always tried to catch and make a mental note out of what came out of the teacher’s mouth, even if at the same time one of my classmates might be talking to me about his outing with his friends the day before in all its glorified detail.
I also tried to not depend too much on teachers when it came to doing classwork. I wanted to think for myself. I wanted to solve it for myself before consulting the question with the teacher. And I didn’t want to bother the teacher with every little question that I know I can find out for myself. Even though I worked like that, I always checked my answers with my friends, to see if I had done it correctly. If my answer was wrong, then I’d try to find out why it was wrong. How I got it wrong. Then I’d start again and correct my mistake.
Quietly and slowly I had gained confidence in myself. Quietly and slowly I had increased my self-esteem. I rarely volunteered for any activities in Primary School, yet in Maktab Sains, I started to join the school’s many extracurricular activities. The PowerPoint Presentation, I hope, have shown / will show the activities I’ve joined in the past six years.
I attribute being awarded this scholarship to my parents, my teachers, my friends and the Bruneian government. I am thankful to have so many wonderful people alongside me. Parents who support me. Teachers who are willing to educate me. Friends who can pull me through.
Although this is not the end of my journey, it is a big step in it. I have no particular destination at the end of my life’s journey, because I want to live my life and do what I can do when I can still do it. I want the journey to last as long as this soul still resides in this very body.
Once again, I thank both my parents and family, all my teachers and friends, and people along the way who have helped me one way or another. To sign off, I will recite this poem I wrote recently, just for you guys;
Waiting for the life-changing aeroplane,
I wonder over what’s next after now,
I ponder over how’s life after here,
And I let out a smile
Uncertain yet unafraid
Unintentional yet honest
Shaking the hands of the years gone by
Teary eyes are infectious
Goodbyes are heartbreaking
And I slip out a teardrop
Just one, not many
Refrained, certainly not the last
And then I finally say goodbye
Assalamuaikum Warrahmatullahi Wabarakatuh
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Again, I found this while checking all my documents on my laptop. This was the speech I was supposed to give for the Farewell Ceremony we had in MS, and as some of you know, my laptop crashed that night, and I had to make a new one on the spot.
This one’s so much better than the one I presented that day. I cringe when I think about it. I wanna throw this bloody laptop to its doom. Put it out of its misery. And get myself a Mac. But no point in doing that. I’ve got massive loads of work, and I don’t have £3000 with me right now to buy a new Mac. So I’ll just have to be content, and squeeze out this laptop’s dying life.
Signing out
Over and out
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