“Mum… sekarang kan teacher dah tukar tempat saya lagi….”
“Oh… so who do you sit with now ?”
“Hanim.” Name has been changed to protect identity, okeh. Then she added, “Dia kan… putihhhh…. Muka dia putih, her hands pun putih….Cantik sangat….”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Saya kan hitam kan ? Tak cantik kan ?”
Eh ?
“No… you are pretty…. Very pretty. I thought you knew that since you alwys say ‘I am pretty lah…’, ‘I look gorgeous lah….’… Of course you are pretty….”
She looked at me unconvinced.
“But she is putih, Mummy….”
“Okay never mind lah… There are putih people yang pretty. There are browns ones who are pretty, the peach ones.. the dark ones too…. Allah make all kind of skin colours and every one of them is pretty …..”
She sighed.
I sighed.
That day when I picked her up from school, she was busy playing with some friends. As we walked hand in hand to the car (Mummy holding her very heavy bag… tak sangka dah zaman2 moden ni pun masih bawak papan batu pi sekolah macam Flintstones), she said;
“That is my friend from kindergarten. Her name is Kiki…”
“Oh…that is nice…”
“I like her… because she doesn’t talk much.. Dia cakap sikit saja pun….”
Ha ?
“Iya..dia cakap sikit saja pun.....”
He he....
Why at this very tender age, my darling, would you appreciate the strong silent type ?
“Oh… so who do you sit with now ?”
“Hanim.” Name has been changed to protect identity, okeh. Then she added, “Dia kan… putihhhh…. Muka dia putih, her hands pun putih….Cantik sangat….”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Saya kan hitam kan ? Tak cantik kan ?”
Eh ?
“No… you are pretty…. Very pretty. I thought you knew that since you alwys say ‘I am pretty lah…’, ‘I look gorgeous lah….’… Of course you are pretty….”
She looked at me unconvinced.
“But she is putih, Mummy….”
“Okay never mind lah… There are putih people yang pretty. There are browns ones who are pretty, the peach ones.. the dark ones too…. Allah make all kind of skin colours and every one of them is pretty …..”
She sighed.
I sighed.
That day when I picked her up from school, she was busy playing with some friends. As we walked hand in hand to the car (Mummy holding her very heavy bag… tak sangka dah zaman2 moden ni pun masih bawak papan batu pi sekolah macam Flintstones), she said;
“That is my friend from kindergarten. Her name is Kiki…”
“Oh…that is nice…”
“I like her… because she doesn’t talk much.. Dia cakap sikit saja pun….”
Ha ?
“Iya..dia cakap sikit saja pun.....”
He he....
Why at this very tender age, my darling, would you appreciate the strong silent type ?
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