Family
I just saw my aunt and my cousin from Australia (my family’s far and wide… but I’ve never been out of this dreaded cesspool - part and parcel of being an refugee race). The cousin is hot. Goodness. I can’t help myself.
But over tea with some pisang goreng and keropok, my aunt had to go into the usual routine on asking about my life. And why I don’t want to go to a public, government university. And then suggesting getting a scholarship. Then getting repelled when I tell her my forecast grades. And then chastise me for being lazy. And then did something unique normally only parents worldwide have a perogative in - compare me with her daughter.
You know, the usual: judging me, questioning me, looking down on me.
The thing is what I’m doing now is because my parents placed greater value in renovating the house than in my education. Okay, fair enough. But now, all I want is for them to spend at least a tenth they had put in with my older brother’s education in my education. And that’s not counting what they need to pay once I get a job. At this point, I think I’ll be doing my degree part time. If my parents won’t pay for it, I would. I won’t go to university for the sake of going to university where I have to spend a year and a half more than UK twinning courses and then coming out to join the local unemployed scene.