“Ibu tunggal bayar RM150 je sebulan, boleh la mak cik buat duduk sementara tunggu mati.” The slow fan blades sliced through air that was filled with Mak Cik Zakiah’s casual realisation of her mortality. Her faint smile following her remarks compensated for the heaviness in my heart for her.
She may be alone but she doesn’t live in solitude. An active member of the PPR community, she joins in the activities organised by the local mosque. The flats are small but packed with family members, jostling for every inch of privacy. The flats were evidently built by the government more to keep the people off the streets, and less for their comfort.
It has been said that “God does not change a people’s lot unless they change what is in their hearts”. But the people in the PPR have tried as hard as they can to change themselves, yet they still remain, forgotten by others.The end for this cycle is the end of their life, hence Mak Cik Zakiah’s casual contemplation on the wait for her end.
The young dream of a better future. A girl wishes to open a bakery. Another girl wishes to be an accountant. The boys want to be policemen or join the armed forces. Another wishes to become an ustaz and motivate others through prayers.
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