Wednesday, 11 December 2013

SPM examinations, then the holidays!

Hello people once again!

After a long hiatus, I have come back to blow the dust off this blog. It's been months, and I appreciate your patience as you wait. We truly apologise for this, as the end of the year is really the busiest for the school, and who are we but just students who are busy tying up all this year's loose ends.

As the school holidays have rolled in, it is finally the right time to write about the major thing that happens at the end of the school year. If you've read the title, then it's pretty obvious what I'm going to write about. If you still want to guess, good sport! I'll give you three chances (Nah, just kiddinng, I know you know what it is :P)

The Malaysian Certificate of Education (Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia in Malay) examinations took place in schools nation-wide, as seventeen-year-old Malaysians felt the jitters in the bones as their 11 years of education are put to the test, yours truly included. In the months prior to this, all classes go to intensive revision mode and nothing else but the examination was on everybody's minds. Well-wishers abound with chants of 'Good luck' and (my personal favourite) the Hunger Games-esque 'May the odds be ever in your favour'.

On the day before the examinations, our school had a small ceremony for the students and teachers. Teachers and students reconcile and exchanged cordial wishes. Even our illustrious principal, Pn. Azizah Yusoff was there to wish us well, especially her History students in 5 Orkid and 5 Mawar. It really touched us all, especially when our teachers have been with us all our five years in secondary school, giving us support both directly and indirectly without question.

After a brief on examination procedures, we headed to our respective rooms. Sorted and seated according to index numbers, we arranged our tables and chairs, thus sweating ourselves out. This was it: we were on the brink of a storm.

As the 6th of December approached, the storm had arrived. Invigilators arrived in the school, and us candidates sat meekly at the assembly point. Books at hand, desperate to cram, but the storm had arrived. Then, the time started, and all was furious scribbling. Then, all of a sudden, time is up, and you are free to go, for now, into the eye of the storm. This was the ritual with every day, will frustruated candidates and relieved ones alike, mingling and preparing themselves for the next paper.

If the trees could see what we were doing, they would most certainly have protested, because of the sheer volume of writing we do. At any essay section, we would have a tonne of paper written on at the end of it. One of the notable paper-burners was Paper III of History. Being a detailed analysis and synthesis from a History lesson, this pilot entailed three hours of non-stop writing. Personally, I asked for so much paper that the invigilator gave me a lot extra to save time.

On the questions themselves, many people see many things. Some were confounded, others were jubilant. It really showed how much effort once actually puts into the examinations, and these sentiments intensified as the forbidding discussions ensued amongst the jaded candidates.

First, it was the core subjects: Malay, English, History, Mathematics, Iand slamic Studies or Moral Education. Then, the electives went full flight. Science, Physics, Biology, Chemistry, Additional Mathematics, Mandrin, Tamil, Principle of Accounts, Commerce, Basic Economics, Visual Arts: they all made an appearance. There were numerous others, especially the vocational ones, but the feeling they all gave was the same.

At the end of it all (mine ended with Biology), I'm sure most were bewildered that the storm finally ended, feeling empty as we look for the next thing to do. Some even managed to snap a few pictures or two, to commemorate their victory after the long hard battle, fought with nothing but pens, papers, calculators and brains.

The day the examinations ended was the day we ceased to be students, rather we progressed to be alumni. Even as we move on, our hearts never leave, and we will have to come back, as our examination results would be revealed. Until that day, with school magazine tucked in arm, we will rest and ponder to our fill and wonder which tribute will be crowned Victor of the annual Hunger Games.

With that, I end my post here, and wish everyone happy holidays, from all of us at the Library.

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