For the rest of my life

WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN...)

The Big 'O'

It should have been the proudest moment of our secondary lives. After all, we were receiving our GCE 'O' Level results, the first step towards maturity, 'freedom' and entry into the national mainstream life. Most of us were already planning to continue our education at Polytechnic or Junior College. My choice was clear from the start. I am not mathematically or scientifically inclined and since my parents are from the low income group, the only way I could enter the university and do the course I was good at was through the junior college. This of course, sounds perfectly normal, if not for the fact that I could not put on my headscarf anymore in JC. Period. I knew I had initially hated going to the madrasah for precisely the reason that I had to put on the headscarf. However, five beautiful years of learning about Islam had made me love the ways of the Muslimahs and I was at the crossroad - should I continue tertiary education in a line of study that I have no passion for so that I can keep my tudung, or should I follow my passion but leave my tudung behind. My parents, especially my father, fortunately have pledged to support whatever decisions I made.

Zak, however, was mad. Stark raving mad. It was not that I never brought up the subject. It was just that the results came sooner than expected - sooner than I could broach the matter to him.

It was the day we got our 'O' level results. There we were, huddled in the Musolla, waiting passively for the results - of course we were scared, excited, numbed - you name it. Some were at the point of hysteria, even, talking animatedly non-stop. Zafirah was one of them and I had to hush her many times. When the results were released, I did better than I had expected - 10 points for my L1B5 subjects. I made it to the top ten performers, much to my embarrassment, for all ten of us were paraded in front of everybody in that musolla. I glanced at Zak's face, caught his eyes and they were smiling. Alhamdulillah! That meant his results were good as well. When I got back to my friends, of course they swarmed me with congratulations and hugs. There were tearful faces, one of which was Zafirah's. I went over and put an arm around her shoulder

'Its okay, Fir...it couldn't be that bad, right?"

Zafirah, still red-eyed, still kind of stoned, showed me her results. It was not good enough to get her a place into Polytechnic, her dream institution, but it was acceptable enough for her to continue her tertiary education at a madrasah.

"MasyaAllah Fir! You can still apply to Wak Tanjong, or Maarif..Do your 'A' there, ok? Then who knows...."

"But, I really want to go to Poly...."

I patted her back.

"Sometimes we plan, but Allah knows best...He couldn't mean to bring evil to you right, Fir? Be patient, ok? Solat istiharah and pray that everything would turn out fine, ok?"

"And you? Still going to JC?"

"Yes, insyaAllah..."

I did not realize that Zak and his friends had come near us and I think he heard my last answer for I could feel his eyes burning right through me. Yes. Burning right through. Of course, I being the 'blur-sotong' looked up smilingly at him, wanting to ask his plans. But his eyes erased the smile from my face.