The story of N

N is not that closely related to Aunty Y; N’s grandmother is Aunty Y’s cousin. But she feels obliged to raise her after N’s mother passed away in a tragic road accident 2 years ago, being the kind and magnanimous person that Aunt Y is.

It was natural to feel pity and compassion for her; but only after I delivered my first baby did I truly understand the extent of her loss. I took care not to display too much affection to my son in front her, imagining that it would help minimise her painful reminders of a mother’s love, lost. A few weekends ago, N was reading her schoolbook. “Terima kasih, ibu. Terima kasih, ayah. Terima kasih kerana mendidik saya.” I pretended I wasn’t listening, although I was guessing it wasn’t just coincidence that she happened to be reading those particular pages.

The thing is, it’s not very difficult to provide for her material needs; school, food, clothes. But love – how do you love a child who does not inspire love? She is known to speak untruths, and to bring back things that do not belong to her. Perhaps it’s the survival instinct that’s embedded in her.

In one incident, she told me “Mak Long, semalam N mimpi mama N belikan aiskrim.” Aunty Y quickly added, “Macam tulah Mynie. Dulu mula-mula sekali dua dia cakap macam tu kita memang kesian dan belikan untuk dia. Sekarang dah cakap macam tu selalu sangat, tak taulah boleh percaya ke tidak.” It sometimes scares me. I’ve of course heard that formative years are extremely important to the development of an individual; but surely at 8, it’s not too late? Aunt Y is still trying hard to educate her.

It’s something petty, but she has an uncanny ability to annoy everyone, though of course it is I who lacks patience. An example of her idea of a tete-a-tete:

N: Mak Long beli ni harga berapa? (a gift for her, for example a piece of clothing)
Me: Adalah, beberapa ringgit.
N: Mak Long beli ni kat mana?
Me: Kedai so-and-so.
N: Kedai tu kat mana?
Me: Dekat dengan rumah Mak Long kat so-and-so.
N: Oh. Kat kedai tu ada jual apa lagi?

By this time, I would usually ran out of patience to entertain her questions, and would simply keep quiet. Perhaps she’s only trying to make a conversation with me, and she just hasn’t mastered the arts of charming an adult. Perhaps if I have more compassion, then I would be able to find patience.

If this sound like a poor excuse, that’s because it really is one. Sometimes I feel that I try not to increase her expectations because I fear that I may not be able to keep it up. In an incident quite some ago, we were out in an event when a lady friend, talking to Aunt Y, started asking about N, who was tagging along. Learning about her naturally inspired pity, and this lady started telling N sweet things, like asking if she would like it if she were to take her out for a day of fun to Sunway Lagoon. The next day, N woke up early to get ready. She waited. But the lady never came. Only Allah knows how disappointed N really was. Aunt Y knew she wouldn’t turn up since the beginning, but in my naivety I had hoped she would, and was angry when she didn’t. I don’t want to give her false hopes, eventhough it may be not as drastic as that. Yet, it shouldn’t stop me from trying!

Astaghfirullahal’azim - here is a golden opportunity for me to do good, and yet I whine about the challenges and give poor excuses. Walhal sememangnya jelas dalam Islam, memuliakan anak yatim sangat-sangat dituntut. Ya Allah, give me patience and motivation to do my part for N…

The story above is true, but identities are blurred for reasons I’m also not sure of.