"oh my kids don't speak Malay"

I do wonder why some parents are proud of the fact that their children are not able to speak their mother tongue well. My son's ability in his written assessment and communication to his grandparents in Malay is a long way to go in being near native, but I know he will get by. I know I can do more to get him to speak Malay "like water" as in fluently and I would be a shame for myself to know of a non-Malay who could even do higher mother tongue. But when I hear remarks by some other Malay parents who seem to gloat when they say, "oh my kids don't speak/understand Malay," it's like as if they are ashamed of their own language. I do wonder the pride they have in being monolingual. Wouldn't it be advantageous to be bilingual? And especially so if it's in your native tongue? So here's a little story of a mother mouse and her mice. I hope it will make those parents think before they say those words above.

A mother mouse was with her litter of mice when they bumped into a fearsome looking cat. Immediately the little mice hid behind her in terror. Mother mouse, with all her might, tried to look strong and stare straightly at the big terrifying cat. Though her heart was beating really fast and beads of perspiration was running down her hair, she stared at the Cat with piercing eyes and then she shouted in her loudest voice, "Woof, woof!" The cat, thinking there was a dog behind her ran away as fast as it could.

The little mice were so proud of their mother and her fast thinking as they think that they couldn't have done what their mother did. So this is what their mother said,"It's always good to know a second language."

My beautiful sunset

As she looked out of the balcony one evening, she was mesmerized by the beautiful sunset. She calls out to me, "appreciate this, don't you just want to sit here all evening and watch the sun goes down?"

The golden showers of the evening ray was captivating. It was Allah's miracles, day in and day out, and yet we failed to recognise it sometimes. As I looked out of my balcony window, the sight that beholds me was beautiful but it was not mine. I can only appreciate my blessings, the blessings that He has given me - the beautiful sunset, the bird's eye view of the city below me and the gift of my sight.



As the sun glides behind the buildings, and disappear beneath the clouds, daylight dwindles, and the sky and earth were once again slowly but surely cloaked in darkness. It was time for the call of the azan. It was time for Muslims to come in prayers during that magical moment, glorifying Him for all of His blessings upon us.