First east of Suez!

Malaya had it better. Not that we were not colonised but because our colonial masters were much kinder than some that over neighbours got. Look at the Indochinese countries and the mess the French left behind. Their masters not only pilfered the region of its wealth but try to erase their advanced ancient culture. The Dutch left a bad aftertaste even long after their long departure. Belgians used their subjects as target practice to milk their dry of their diamonds, minerals, natural resources and even exotic fauna. Even the Land of the Free, the Thais, did not gain so much of order in their country. Elsewhere, the Spanish wiped out a civilisation with their carnage and smallpox.

Malaya was left by the captors a proper system of administration, legal and education systems when they finally gain independence. With this head start, they started their status as a new country with an advantageous jump-start. The euphoria of the new nation pushed it great heights producing new talents from the clan of natives.

The same thing happened in the field of education. We have Penang Free School, St Xavier's Institution, Andersons, Victoria Institution, St Paul's, St Francis Institute and many more. The products of these schools had served this country well all this while. Unfortunately, many turns of events after people of a particular vision of how our nation should be heading, took the helm, these godowns of knowledge have turned into just another certificate stomping factories churning out half-baked scholars dearth of scholastic and charismatic prowesses! They have become just another statistic in the list of schools providing basic literacy to the nation.

No doubt the upper crust of echelon are there yearning to serve the motherland, but like a stepchild, they are discriminated. Hence what do they become? They only provide a reservoir for the rest of the world with their level-headed leader to pinch our boys, give citizenship, to tie them down and prosper. 

This is the impression I got when I had the chance to meet many of my long lost school mates over the weekend in my alma mater's celebration of its 200th year of establishment. Many of classmates have been engulfed by the red dot at the southern tip of our country. Others have looked and moved westwards. It appears like this country has to make do with discards and half-boiled visions. Reaching excellence is nowhere on our agenda.

How one Malaysian school became a bright spot in colonialism’s dark legacy

http://m.scmp.com/comment/insight-opinion/article/2038580/how-one-malaysian-school-became-bright-spot-colonialisms

N. Balakrishnan celebrates the founding two centuries ago of Southeast Asia’s oldest English school, which gave generations of youth an education not just of the mind, but also of the heart. 

N. BALAKRISHNAN

PUBLISHED : Thursday, 20 October, 2016, 12:39pm

UPDATED : Thursday, 20 October, 2016, 12:39pm

The Penang Free School. Minority voices have been saying that the old school was a colonial relic best forgotten.
But while the school may have been “elitist” in one sense, it was also an avenue for social mobility for many.

Neither of my parents knew any English. The reason I can write passable English is down to the schools I attended in Penang, Malaysia. Penang Free School, my secondary school, celebrates its 200th anniversary on October 21. It was established three years before modern Singapore was “founded” by Stamford Raffles, and is the oldest English school in Southeast Asia.

The school’s storied history reminds me of the Janus-faced nature of British colonialism in this part of the world. One article of faith since my youngest days has been that colonialism is an evil system. Today, however, I realise colonialism has its merits; it moulded me and many generations in Malaysia in more ways, both positive and negative, than we would like to admit.

The founder of Penang Free School, English clergyman Robert Sparke Hutchings, who died of malaria in his 40s in Penang, proved that not all who worked for the East India Company were exploiters. He seemed a farsighted man, who wanted to ensure the school was free of religious control.

Malaysia’s first prime minister Tunku Abdul Rahman, and the nation’s best known actor P. Ramlee, were educated there, along with many academics and Dr Wu Lien Teh, the physician who was instrumental in fighting the plague in China by recommending the cremation of victims, a revolutionary idea at that time.

Minority voices have been saying that the old school was a colonial relic best forgotten. But while the school may have been “elitist” in one sense, it was also an avenue for social mobility for many. It also taught us the quaint notion that duty and team spirit are more important than “winner takes all” individualism. As one classmate and good friend said, the school was built to produce the self-sacrificing civil servants needed to keep the empire going, except that the empire it was meant to serve collapsed but the school kept churning out students with character anyway.

The result is that Free School boys, particularly the Chinese and Indian Malaysians among them, can be found scattered around the world, since opportunities became narrow in the modern Malaysia of ethnic preferences.

Both Abdul Rahman and P. Ramlee died poor. I cannot think of any Malaysian prime minister or famous actor today who will die in anything but extreme luxury. The values taught by the school may seem absurd in contemporary Malaysia. But looking at the greed and selfishness that is not only prevalent but admired today, I think maybe Reverend Hutchings should be seen as an inspiration. On October 21, for the first time in my life, I will be sincerely toasting the merits of colonialism.

N. Balakrishnan is a Hong Kong-based businessman.

50 going 17?

31 years ago, they all left to start journey to their future, armed with the scroll of their knowledge. In their long treacherous and arduous journey, they must have swam through many sharks infested waters weathering through inclement weather. Some would have hit the jackpot; some into bottomless pit; some through bad decisions of life; some with incurable maladies; some through painful divorces; some trapped in the clutches of the black dog; some ventured into untested territories and God forsaken places; some happy; some sad and some were ashamed of their absence of achievements.
The idea of getting together at 50 mooted about a year when YTH got a handful of people together for a simple dinner. It was followed a series of small meeting here and there. The killer shot materialised when my better/other half schemed my 50th surprise birthday party.
All salutations to geeks who started social medias.
With the help of emails, WhatsApp, FB and mobile communication, the number of attendees kept on snowballing. The excitement was set to motion via WhatsApp and FB Group. The number of participants swelled to its maximum number and the alert button kept on bleeping. The messages kept on coming on the minute and suddenly the 50 years olds were acting like 17years olds, gazing at their smart phones every other minute and overtaking their children in the number of messages received on the social media.
Old stories and photos made their way to rekindle old fond memories. Our brilliantly creative art prodigy, DTBT, took a trip up north to snap brilliant pictures of the Alma Mater from various angles to further set the mood going.
Finally on the day of reckoning, close to 80 people zeroed on the venue of PFS '63 GTG Five-O from near and far - as far as both ends of the Peninsular, Sabah, Indonesia and USA. JT took 10days leave for his busy paediatric practice just to join the fun. Fun, a rocking good time they had. Seeing each after 30 years brought laughter and smiles that which no laughing gas, SSRI or LSD could. All the accolades and prefixes were out of the window. Everyone was on first name basis, as they always knew. There was so much so roars of laughter that day that the restaurant would probably have second thoughts if we were to have our second gathering there again for fear of driving patrons away.

Everybody was 17 again, retelling and reliving the teenage escapades. Untold stories about their pranks with teachers and friend came to the surface. Poking jokes at each others appearance was also another favourite talking point. Mega pixels after mega pixels of pictures were taken again and again to immortalise the union.
The shower of joy lingered on until way past the closing time. The fellowship continued later at various eateries around town in smaller groups.

For more than 4 hours, the 80 odd 50years old were acting like 17 year old like how they were some 30years previously. Every good thing  must come to an end. All when back happy for while, back to face reality of life and its intricacies.

50 years olds

It used to be their playground!

Flip, flop, flip, flop…

30.1.2010

Flip, flop, flip, flop…

Recently, the Education Ministry came out with a list of 20 best schools in Malaysia. No surprise for those who guessed that PFS was not it. It is all part of the flip flop policy. Perhaps it is part of the master social engineering strategy.

Before the 1980’s, each major town in Malaysia used their prestigious grammar school. I guess we have to thank the British for this. After watching Avatar, I am not so sure. Again, this is part of British’s greater agenda. In Penang, we had PFS, SXI, and BM High; in Taiping they had St Edwards; in Ipoh, it was Anderson; KL had VI and St. John’s; Seremban had St. Paul and KGV; Malacca had SFI; JB had EC and so forth. These schools had their own proud age old tradition and used to excel in academic as well as extracurricular activities. Entry into these primier schools was reserved only for the outstanding students. Students had pride donning their school colours. After the New Education Policy was set into motion, the power that be decided that the grammar school concept was outdated and was a legacy left behind by the British which was not suitable for a growing nation like Malaysia. Perhaps it was rather not in tandem with their social restricting. So they started on an integration exercise bringing in students from the rural areas to these grammar schools, reorganizing their funds and reallocating their school teachers. Special attention and loads of funds were given to the newly built residential schools which were primarily built to house bumiputra students, all in the name of NEP.

Fast forward 40 years later, now you have the same concept churned by the same jokers, albeit with different name. Special funds and attention will be given to these schools. Just that this time around, none of the original grammar schools are in the list but are replaced by mostly residential schools. (Surprise, surprise)

Flip flop No.2 is the name of the common language of most Malaysians – Bahasa Melayu à Bahasa Kebangsaan à Bahasa Malaysia à Bahasa Melayu. Before independence in the pre-Malayan Union the Malay language was written in Jawi. It was later romanized and for education purposes, there was the Bahasa Melayu for Malay medium students and Bahasa Kebangsaan for the others in schools. After 1970, there was only Bahasa Malaysia to prosper national integration. After the Iranian Islamic Revolution in 1978 and the emergence of Anwar Ibrahim in Umno and the self proclaimers of defenders of the race, they decided to reclaim their stake and authority in the language. Hence, it was renamed Bahasa Melayu again till now. Like headless chickens, our education system is running around in circles aimlessly.

N.B. A few days after I wrote this piece, there was an article in the Star on this subject. Guess what, most of the points stated above were stated. Of course in a more refined manner unlike the sarcastic article of mine!