The bible said that we are all traveler on this earth and our final destination is Heaven, if we have a living relationship with our Father through our Lord Jesus Christ.
My journey begins very early in my journey here on earth. I am not sure when I journeyed from Malaysia to Singapore. Some of my relatives said that I came over to Singapore when I was only a months old. Some said that I came when I was between 4-6yrs old while one even mentioned that I came when I was almost 12yrs old. I am not sure when I came to Singapore but definitely not almost 12yrs old.
I believe I came to Singapore when I was about 4-5years old before I started school.
What I can remember is that whenever I quarrel with my sister, I will say that I wanted to go back to Malaysia. Why? I was not sure. Just know that I have this urge to go back when I was not happy. I remembered also that there was a period of time where I was confused as to who I am living with.
I remembered at one point, I was asked to call my supposed dad 'uncle'. After a few months, I was told to revert to call him 'dad' from then on.
At the age of 8, I became a Singaporean by registration, meaning that I was not born in Singapore. My parents never tell me why I was not born in Singapore when they are Singaporeans themselves. Nor did they tell me which part of Malaysia was I born in.
Nothing was mentioned about my early years. There was no baby photos of me that I can remember my parents ever show me. Nor was there any photos of my parents and me when I was a baby. At least I cannot remember having any. Now that I search deep into my memory, I think there was a family portrait of my parents with my older sister and me when I was less than 10yrs old. But, I cannot remember where is that portrait as I have not seen it for more than 40yrs now.
My childhood years from 6 years old and below is practically empty as I do not have any re-collection. It was like I really started living when I started my Primary 1 education. That is the time when I can still have some memories of my classmates.
What I know is that something is not right with me because I do not seem to have the same thought pattern with my parents. There seems to be nothing in common that we talk about. And there was very very little family outings and we actually do not have any photos of us being out as a family.
I just remembered that I grow up as a shy and insecure boy. We live in a rented apartment in very poor neighbourhood called the Old Airport Road until the early 70s. It is an apartment with only one living hall that double up as bedroom, one kitchen and a toliet. All the families living in that estate were from the lower strata of the society.
My dad worked as a taxi driver though I know that he had also worked in the local coffee shop before as the 'Tau Qiu' (in Hokkien means the guy who makes the coffee and other cold beverages, a pretty important position in the local coffee shop at that time). My mom was a homemaker. Life was difficult in those early years. My bed was just thin mat on the floor for many years. Now, I used to joke that one of the reasons why I have a flat back on my head is because of the years of sleeping on hard floor with only a mat and a pillow.
I remember started doing family chores by 7-8yrs. Waking up in the morning to help make coffee for the day, sweeping and mopping the floor, washing and hanging clothing and eventually some simple cooking by 12yrs old.
I went to a neighbourhood primary school. Making friends in school has never been easy for me. As mentioned, I was shy and insecure. I do not initiate conversation easily and if I was ever asked to stand up in class to say something I will stammer and shake uncontrollably. My dad used to give me 50 cents every day to buy some food in the school canteen. As I grow older (may be Primary 3 or 4), the 50 cents was just enough for me to buy a bowl of noodles and drink during the canteen break. Seeing my classmates being able to eat more and have candies caused me to become even more inferior. And I remembered that sometimes, I will steal 50cents to 2 dollars from my dad's coin box just to be able to buy some candies or show my classmates that I was not that poor. I knew that stealing was wrong but the need to feel accepted or at least not that poor in the eyes of my classmates had driven me to steal from my dad's coin box.
My results were very good in my class. I was usually ranked middle in a class of 30 students. So, I was not smart, coming from a poor family and at the same time knowing that something did not fit quite right between my family and me.
It was at the age of 12 that my worst fear was confirmed. I was a adopted son that my parents adopted from Malaysia. How I found out is that during those years in Singapore, every child will get their own identity card at the age of 12. To get that identity card, the parents have to show the birth ceritificate of their child. For me, my dad had to show two documents, my birth certificate and my adoption paper to the teacher helping in process my identity card.
I cannot remember how I felt when seeing that document. All I know is that it confirmed that I was adopted. But who was my biological parents? I have no idea as the adoption paper do not have their name and the names of my parents in my birth ceritificate has already been changed to my present adopted parents.
All these had caused me to become more insecure because I was at a loss of who I am really. Where did I come from? Who were my parents? Why did they not want me? Why did they give me away? And how was my adopted parents related to my parents? Do they know each other? Is my name even real? Was that why I was asked to called my adopted dad as 'uncle' for that short memory that I had about my earlier childhood? Are my biological parents alive? Do I have any other sibling? And most of all for boy at 12, I am different from all others in my class. They have and were living with their real parents but I do not know who I really was.
My adopted parents did not talked about my adoption and who were my parents even after they know that I have seen the official adoptation paper. They just keep mum about the whole issue. That drove a deep wedge in my relationship with my adopted parents.
I passed my primary school when went on to a rather notorious neighbourhood secondary school.
Still having not many friend. I did remember that my immediate neighbour that live opposite our house were my closest friend where we played often. It is also in this family where I learn to earn some extra money by helping to assemble zipper together at the age of 10.
As I move on to secondary school, we had to move because the government was rebuilding that whole neighbourhood as part of the way to get rid of the local gangs that were active in those areas in the early 1970s.
The happiest times I had in those early childhood years was when my dad will send me to the school in the cab that he was driving when it was raining or whenever he was near our home when it was time for me to go to school. Though it was not often, but I was so happy to just sit in the front seat of the cab that he was driving to go to school. The other happy memory was whenever he will bring me to a nearby coffee shop to have a packet of chocolate milk. Just that as a father of that era, he had never held me or my hand......and no verbal affirmation of any kind.
Monday, April 28, 2014
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