I could hardly sleep as I tossed about the whole night since my mother told me
to get ready to walk to school by myself tomorrow morning. She would not
accompany me again. She had reminded me that I had grown up and should know how
to take care of myself.
When morning came, my mother had prepared everything for me. She got ready a
wooden umbrella and some packed dried food for my lunch that day. After
breakfast, she sent me off at the gate. She reminded me to watch the
traffic and be careful all the time.
My mother had accompanied me for a month or so since the beginning of that particular
year. She had taught me the basic rules that I must know when using the
road. Always look to your left and right before you cross the road. Always walk
on the edge of the road and face the oncoming traffic. Do not play on the
road. You must always stay alert and be careful all the time. She drilled me and
drummed into me all the time. She was really my first teacher about road safety
and even road courtesy.
At that young age around ten or so, I had learnt all what my mother taught me.
She had prepared me well for the day that I should walk to school by myself. I
had no problem walking to and from school every school day since. In
later years I learnt that my mother had to let me go on foot to school because
she had to leave home early to work and help out the family. My father’s income
was barely enough to make ends meet at that time. I had three other younger
siblings who stayed at home and we counted our blessings as our grandparents
were still around then to look after them.
Though life was tough at that time, I had no complaint. I simply had to follow
the routine to prepare myself early for school. I would not dare to be late as
it would mean a reprimand and a warning from my class teacher, Mrs Chan. I was terrified
of her sharp piercing voice especially when she was angry with us for not
paying attention in class. I had seen my classmates being warned and threatened
with a cane which she always brought along. The sight of the cane was enough to
terrify us and to keep us on our toes. But as much as I wanted to avoid that
kind of situation it happened once to me. She gave me a stern look and asked me
why I was late. It was pure luck that she was in her good mood on that day or
else she would cane me on the palms. I thanked my lucky star. Nevertheless I
had become the centre of attraction and ridicule in class. Everybody called me
a late-comer.
One morning as usual I started to set off early to avoid the traffic.
Moreover, I would definitely bump into some schoolmates along the way. We
would then chat and relate our exploits the days before. As far as I could remember
most people in the 60’s used bicycles as a means of transport. Occasionally,
there would be the sounds of bicycle bells to warn other pedestrians about
their coming. Other vehicles like cars and motorcycles were few.
Then all of a sudden a stray dog crossed our path. It growled at us. My
schoolmates were about to run away but I stopped them. I remember this story of
a brave boy who pretended to be dead when he was attacked by a bear. He did not
run away. If he did, the bear would certainly chase him and maul him to death.
I made up my mind to stand my ground as I used my umbrella to hit the dog. I
missed it. This time it came nearer and it had become more aggressive. I was
not intimidated either. I used the umbrella to protect myself and my other
friends. Luckily at that critical moment a passer-by gave
us a hand. He threw a stone at the canine. It scored a direct hit on its head.
It let out a howl before it started to back off and disappear in the bush. It
was another lucky day for us. We were all unharmed. Once at school my
schoolmates related the whole incident to all and sundry. I was praised for
being brave and helping others in times of difficulty. I was no longer
called a late comer but a boy who had the guts to face the attack of an
aggressive dog.