(Published in The Sun 9 December 2019)
The debate
on the teaching of Jawi in vernacular schools has been ongoing for months now.
No long-term solution seems to be in sight, largely because the MoE and the
Cabinet have not tried to evaluate the whole issue based on the real
educational needs and best interest of the pupils. To this date, many pertinent
questions and issues raised by various stakeholders, including this writer
(Letter to The Sun 14 August 2019, https://gansiowcklee.blopot.com/?m=1)
have been largely evaded or even ignored. There are still ambiguities begging
to be cleared. Many are still unaware that the initial seni khat has now
evolved into jawi script, and they do not know the difference between the two. This
writer has even written recently to Bahagian Pembangunan Kurikulum (BPK) of MoE
where she worked many years ago, to seek clarifications and secure more
definitive answers, but response does not seem forthcoming. It is indeed
befuddling and disenchanting why such a contentious policy initiated by the
previous regime in or before 2017, is now so doggedly pursued by the new PH
government, which is expected to bring about meaningful reform and progress to
the nation.
The latest
is that on 28th November, the high court of Penang ruled that the
teaching of Jawi script will be “allowed” in vernacular schools. As such, all
quarters have been advised by a certain minister to “respect court’s decision”!
However, I do hope this advice will not
be misconstrued by various people to mean that henceforth, the MoE is “empowered”
to implement the teaching of Jawi in vernacular schools, without taking into serious
consideration the real educational needs of the pupils, or against the better
judgement of all other stakeholders. What the court ruling means is simply that
“schools can teach Jawi”, it is not against the constitution, as argued or
challenged by a certain political party.
All these exasperating
arguments about the teaching of Jawi in vernacular schools have brought to mind
memory of my own experiences as a pupil attending the Kok Min Chinese primary
schools in KL many decades ago. (This school, housed in the Hokkien Association
Building in the KL city center, no longer exists today.) I remember my BM
teacher then, a young amiable Malay man in his twenties, whom we fondly addressed
as Cikgu Nor. (I think his full name is Nor Mohammed, and he lived in Gombak.) He
used to wear a songkok to school on Fridays and he sometimes carried with him newspapers
with what I then perceived as “funny script” in it. One day, piqued by
curiosity coupled by an inquisitive mind typical of a ten-year-old, I seized
the opportunity to pop the question about this script at an opportune time
during our BM lesson. As always, Cikgu Nor responded to the whole class with a
brief and interesting account of what Jawi script is. Some keen learners among
us, impressed by its unique artistic form, were quick to follow up with a
request to learn Jawi. Guess what? Cikgu Nor told us sternly that he would teach it only if the whole
class could pass the upcoming mid-term Standard Five BM test, including the weekly
“ejaan” tests. Of course, he never got down to teaching us any Jawi that year,
because so many of my classmates failed in these tests! (I remember we started
learning English and BM in Standard Three, but by Standard Five, many of my
classmates were still struggling with the Roman alphabet in the English spelling
and BM ejaan!) So, Jawi was all but put aside or forgotten in Standard Six the
following year, as we were all too busy preparing for the National Standard Six
Examination. Thus, I missed the chance to learn Jawi in my primary school years,
but I did learn all about what it is from Cikgu Nor, and this basic knowledge has
stayed with me till this day. More importantly, I remember that many of my
classmates did pass the BM paper in that National Standard Six exam, with a
handful of us, including myself, scoring A’s. For these achievements, we all owe
our thanks to Cikgu Nor’s wisdom and hard work.
Of course, I
do not begrudge Cikgu Nor for my missed opportunity in learning the Jawi
script. I could have learned it in later years, but I guess I never felt the
need to do so. Like many of my peers, I preferred to focus on scoring A’s in what
we deemed as important subjects in our academic pursuit. In retrospect, I think
Cikgu Nor had made a wise and right decision about teaching us Jawi. Being the
conscientious and caring teacher that he was, he chose to focus on helping the
majority of his charges master BM reading and writing skills in rumi, rather
than teaching Jawi to satisfy the curiosity of a small bunch of high-achievers.
Wherever you are today, Cikgu Nor, I salute you for your wisdom to choose to
teach with the best interest of your pupils at heart. I hope the MoE and the
government can take a leaf from Cikgu Nor’s book.
Speaking of
reform and progress, perhaps we should look East and learn something from China
which has been so successful since its opening up only about 40 years ago.
China is an old civilization of more than 5000 years. Its writing script has
evolved through at least four or five different forms. However, for the last
few centuries, the Chinese have been using and learning the modern script,
which has also been further simplified over the past few decades. Are Chinese students
today required to learn the four or five antiquated scripts in schools? No, perhaps
only those who delve into ancient Chinese history, classic literature,
anthropology or archaeology opt to do so, most probably in the tertiary education
institutions. Over the last 40 years or so, the Chinese government has focused
on real reform and progress in education and other fields to advance to where
they are today, one of the world leaders in IT, 5G, robotics etc. What is the moral of this story for us in
Malaysia?
I fervently
hope that all stakeholders involved in protecting the interest of the
vernacular school children will not be forced to acquiesce to an insidious
policy that spells more hardships or presents more learning problems for our
young charges. If and when that happens, many rakyat will certainly join me in
a chorus of sigh, with disenchantment or even in despair: I cry for thee…ye children of Malaysia”.