The events that I am going to narrate happened more than one lunar cycle ago.
Shortly after the O-level results were released, a parent came to complain. His son had performed very dismally (scored Es for everything) and the parent accused us of squandering his son’s talent.
The parent was a Malaysian and perhaps things were done differently up north because he told us he had connections and was going to call a press conference. He demanded that the school write a letter for his son to be posted to a certain polytechnic.
I wanted to inform him that even if Mr. Lee Kuan Yew (who was still living) had written a letter, it would be of no use. His son did not qualify to go to polytechnic. But this would no doubt have enraged him even more. So I held my tongue.
The parent was very adamant and impervious to reason. He even said to me: 你教个屁. (For non-Chinese readers, 教 is teach and 屁 is fart, so the meaning is obvious) The irony is that I did not teach his son. I was just the form teacher.
After I listened to his heated demands for a while, the school leaders took over. The issue was above my pay grade.
As I understand it, a letter was given. It would not have gone very far.
The boy was a quiet and well-behaved student. He was a stark contrast to his father who was quite belligerent. I wonder how the boy is doing now.