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The age of Junior College era in my highly successful and inspired livelihood in Singapore had came to an end just a fraction of a full calender year ago. Next week, on the fifth day of the week, I will return to my beloved, respectable and loving Anderson Junior College once again, to finish what I had set out to do, since my birth.

Since my birth when I left my mother’s womb where I was fortunately given existence to by the use of a modern technology, In-Vitro-Fertilisation. I embarked on a journey to eliminate lack of wealth and want to give myself and my parents whom I love to hug good life for the rest of their life.

I finally made my way to Anderson Junior College, and upon entering its majestic gates, I found myself bathed in an aura of smartness. Putting on the grey and blue uniform that brainless naysayers who do not know better deem as something commonly conceived as that of a factory worker’s I felt my level of intelligent quotient raised by the division of zero over one.

The principal and vice-principal in Anderson Junior College are really inspiring and they had really touched the depts of my youthful heart with their touching speeches. With them, the canteen in my school became world-classed, and so does the teachers in my school, the givers of important knowledge.

I was utterly convinced to work very hard for the sake of my future, given my lack of intelligence which I choose to be totally ignorant about. I want to aim high for the S-Papers which guarantees my social stading to be above that of the other aimless and uninspired schoolmates. How I detest their idle and inability to finish the meager tutorials given by tutors!

I honestly and without any hint of doubt believes in everything my teachers in Anderson Junior College impart to us, in hope that I will one day be able to drive the car they are now driving. When my GP department had imparted us the knowledge that the meaning of irony is “what is expected to happen never happen”, I believed her with all my might, soul, heart and body.

During the days prior to Alevels, when the Alevel examinations were just around the corner, and will approach me in the blink of an eye, I mugged doubly hard. For my intensive and extensive General Paper Revision, I did not limit myself to memorizing valuable statistics from newspaper. I also memorised tonnes of model GP essays uploaded by GP teachers on the online learning portal, in hope that some paragraphs or phrases may come in handy. I also allocated 80% of my time memorising the steps on how to dismantle and approach GP questions given in a note granted only to selected few by the College.

For maths, I drew up a concept map. I learnt how to draw a concept map during the “How to draw a concept map” workshop provided by the reputable institution, Anderson Junior College. I use my hard learnt knowledge, referring to the valuable guidelines and very detailed notes on how to draw a concept map, I drew a very detailed concept map on how to tackle all the different permutation and combination of maths questions that will appear in Alevel.

For chemistry, I already had my concept map drawn by the request of the my beloved chemistry teacher who appraised us with beautiful Cactus during Teachers’ Day.

However, the days of great importance came. The Alevel questions were even harder than those in the Prelims, total unlike those question in the Ten Year Syllabus, which I carried around in my two years in Anderson Junior College where ever I go without failure. All the solutions I had memorised had no use. I left a great deal of questions blank because my knowledgeable teachers did not teach me how to solve such questions. I left the majestic examination hall with a heavy heart, heavier than Jupiter.

But I still learn a great deal in Anderson Junior College, and I will continue loving the college for the rest of my life, for it allowed me to experience definition of irony, where mugging hard and studying hard does not equate to scoring well for the Alevel examinations. Oh, what irony.

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Note: All wrong usage of words, or other mistakes in one form or other, are intentional. The narrative in the story is not “me”, as in “weikiat”, but rather, a persona I’ve created to reflect the thinking and mindset of typical AJCians from 2 years of interacting with and observing them. The part about IVF is fictional. It is put in place to show AJCian’s ruthlessness in trying to “impress” readers with their powerful vocabulary.

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