Mother died today. Or maybe, yesterday; I can’t be sure. 

Meursault from The Stranger

The opening of The Stranger is a word of the main character, Meursault in the novel. The tone and the short phrases in the opening shows the indifference of Meursault towards the death of his mother. He didn’t express any remorse upon learning about the death of his mother and it seems that the only thing he thought about was the date of his mother died. The opening acts as a hook, makes the readers wonder what causes the strange behaviour and personality of the character and if the character changed as the plot develops. The opening attracts readers to find out more this it is very effective.

At the same time, the opening is also effective since it hints the main conflict and themes of the whole book. For instance, Meursault’s words in the opening shows his difficulty of relationships and his indifference towards humanity, which are also the major conflicts in the story. Including these ideas in the opening makes a story clear in the main ideas the writer is going to explore or convey.

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The character strength I identified in my previous reflection was forgiveness. I think this has helped me during Home Based Learning (HBL), especially when my friends are unable to reply to me by texting me for the whole day. Forgiveness helps me to calm down and tell myself that communication was inefficient during the circuit breaker and they might be really busy and doing really important things. Besides forgiveness, some other character strengths that I recognise in myself is hope. Hope is important during this challenging time and I wasn’t sure if I am able to go back to school in Grade 9 or Grade 10. I am particularly worried because of exams since I think it will be more efficient to revise with classmates during class and to do sit-in exams before the mocks. My character strength of hope allows me to calm down and to believe that I will be able to go back to school before the mocks and this could ease my worry to some extent.

To be positive is also an important thing during HBL too. My strategies to keep positive are sharing my thoughts with classmates, friends and teachers, making a plan for everything (projects, events, etc.), listening to music and reaching out to friends when possible.

There are also challenges that I am facing during HBL. For instance, for some subjects, the teacher assigned a lot of classwork to us, way more than the amount that we could finish during class time. I found it difficult to deal with the great amount of work since I have to do those that I haven’t finished during class as homework. I also panic a lot before tests and exams since I don’t know what the tests are going to be like (an actual paper, an online test or just a teamie quiz?) I also find it hard to cooperate with friends during class because some of them do not text me back when I contact them. Fortunately, I had also thought of ways to overcome these challenges though. For example, I made an accurate calendar with all the homework due dates, dates for exams, presentations and activities so I won’t forget. I also contacted some of my teachers, asking them to assign less work. They did and things started to become easier.

It is very important to take responsibilities for things at home too. I rarely do any housework before HBL starts, but after it had started, I had tried to help to cook, to place the dishes and also to make beds.

Physical exercises keep a person active and energetic. For me, I do a workout assigned by my badminton coach almost every day, which includes half Squat (2 times) with Side lunges (left and right) × 20 times, Both legs Jump with Skipping rope 250 times. I think the exercise keeps me very positive. I haven’t done the workout before the circuit breaker so it is a new thing to me. I already did this workout for almost 10 times so I am going to try something different this week.

In the aspect of personal, social and emotional wellbeing, I learned that I am a person who really needs socialising. As I lost contact with my friends for the first few weeks during the circuit breaker, I felt quite sad and lonely. I also feel that it is more productive for me to work with others at school because when all of us are working on the same project, we can encourage each other and share our progress.I support my peers when we are doing online learning. Whenever my peers have questions that they do not understand, we start a google meet and I will help them out. I think I do have a positive impact when doing so, my peers’ problems are solved and I feel positive seeing their problems solved too. I think differently when it comes to socialising. I used to feel that it is better to work independently and rarely want to work with others, but after my experiences during the circuit breaker, I learnt the importance of working as a group and solving problems together with others.

Academics is an important part of my HBL. I am able to finish everything for my academics before the deadline and I always have enough time to get ready for my exams.To improve, I think I should revise by reading through the textbook everyday when classes are over so even if it is harder to communicate with my teachers on home based learning, I am still able to understand everything. Besides these, I have found some revision strategies that I will continue to use even after I go back to Campus in the future, for example, using digital tools such as unit booklets online. It will be more convenient for our science teacher to review what we have done if all of us are using digital unit booklets. For task organization, I discovered a digital calendar called TickTick. It is like google tasks but easier to use. I will continue to use this method. To reduce distractions and procrastination, I use the tomo timer.

What’s more, the nicest thing that someone had told me during HBL was: “Which group do you want to join? I will join the group you are in.” Some great things I did include creating a website for my NYAA project. Something I thought a lot about lately was from my GC. Watching a video made by the organization we are supporting, New Hope Foundation, made me realise that the organization is in a difficult situation with the lack of funds and donation. Something that inspires me a lot was A New York Times article: How to Spend Summer 2020. From this, I found out that a lot of people, including local officials, public health experts and Americans are all working together to keep Summer 2020 enjoyable and relaxing. A friend that I felt the most connected with is Jingyu. We played games online together, a game called sky where we held hands and ran around in the virtual world. A thing I wonder is if my teachers still feel motivated to teach since I think my classmates and me are much less active during HBL. My emotion during HBL is mostly worried and bored. What I value most in my family is our dinner time, when we talk with each other the most. My relationships with my friends are ok. I am close with some of them but others I haven’t contacted them for a long time. What I value most in my friends are how we ask each other for help and respond to each other quickly (texting).

As a conclusion, there were a lot of things going on during HBL, most of which are positive. Generally, I think I am doing ok and I will try my best to be active and optimistic during the period.

Cover image: Music vector created by pch.vector – www.freepik.com

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When the Easter break first started, students were still able to go back to school at any time if they pass the temperature check. Therefore, I went back to school for four or five times for badminton training. Since many students are finding going back to school too risky, most of them are staying at home and thus my badminton coach has a lot of free time slots. That was quite a surprise for me. I trained twice a week at school. I felt that I am gradually getting more consistent while playing and I am quite confident that I can get into SEASAC next year too.

After about two weeks of badminton training, due the a government’s policy, courses at school, including all sports training must be cancelled. I can’t do badminton training anymore, but I always try to do 3 sets of 90 seconds plank every night.

When school started a few days ago, we received tasks from our PE lessons. One of these is to complete an activity or workout aiming to increase my heart rate to >80% of my maximum.

So I did a workout that I designed myself. At first, I was planning, to do lunges, but after the first try, I didn’t increase my heart rate to 80% maximum, so after that I decided to do some jumping and high knees. As expected, I got enough heart rate this time… Except I almost reach my maximum heart rate of 206 (I got 200 bpm). My life will be at risk if I actually reach my maximum heart rate. Next time perhaps I should wear something that can tell me my heart rate when I am exercising so I won’t put myself in danger again.

Overall, I feel that I am doing ok in sport exercises after the Easter break started. The only sad thing is that I won’t be able to practice badminton and I don’t even know when I can do badminton again. I genuinely hope that everything can go back to normal soon.

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I have participated in a college service and a Global Concern. The main way that I contribute to the college service is to attend weekly to help taking care of the plants. During the process, I had learned a lot about myself — I don’t like getting my hands dirty, but when I think about the changes that I can make, I feel motivated again. I contributed to the Global Concern is by helping out on UN Night at the bake sale. Participating in High School services is a different experience from participating in Middle School services. Student leaders take the responsibility to run the services and I had learned a lot about how an event is organised.

I enjoyed my outdoor expeditions a lot. During my trip to Australia in October, I was not only impressed by the magnificent sceneries of the country, but also got out of my comfort zone. Even though I don’t like to be always out of my comfort zone, I cherished the opportunity to feel and to experience things that will never be in my life in Singapore. What I had learnt about myself for the first time is that I could still be so happy and excited when I am out of my comfort zone.

I was actively involved in the PSE sessions during Mentor Group time, but I think I can be more involved during group discussions and that would be what I am going to work on for the rest of Grade 9. PSE sessions had helped me. It encourages me to think about questions and situations in life that I thought I know but had never clearly thought about. What I had learnt about myself is that how much power I have, since knowing what to do and make correct decisions in situations can really help someone else out and make others and myself less vulnerable.

I am involved in SEASAC badminton this year. Besides improving my badminton skills, I also learned about how to cope with stress and change my own mindset — from thinking about factors that I can’t control and panic to focusing on things that I can control and become calmer. I also participated in Girls in Tech, an activity led by students. I learned lots of useful things such as how a large-scale event is organised (logistics, sponsorships, etc) that I never knew before. This would be useful for me when I am organising an activity myself in the future. NYAA is another activity that I participated in. We reflect on what we did in our activities and services. This helps us to improve our performances.

Activities that I do outside of school include private badminton training. It is harder than the trainings I do on weekdays. From these trainings, I learn to persevere when my body feels painful as I gradually improve. The character strength that I demonstrate this year is forgiveness. I am able to forgive people when they do things that I don’t like. The character strength that I would like to work on for the rest of Grade 9 is love of learning. Being able to like my subjects will be my motivation to do better in all of my subjects.

I have many goals for myself next year, but the most important one is to work more efficiently and try to take less time when doing my academics by making really detailed plans for my tasks.

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The news also said that, there were about 9900 people from Wuhan coming to China. One of them was infected, but doesn’t tell other about that, carrying the virus for one whole week and has been to lots of places around Singapore with his family, such as Sentosa, Holland Village, the Paragon, etc, and had took lots of taxis, until he felt really sick and had to went to the Singapore hospital. He could be uninformed of the new virus from Wuhan, or he might not know that the symptoms on himself are caused by the virus, but once he felt uncomfortable, he should go to the hospital and rest instead of going around the tourist sites — that was absolutely an act of irresponsibility to himself and to the people around him, including thousands of tourists, local residents and his family.

Anyways, the virus has possibly spread and I was thinking of excuses of not going to school tomorrow.

And when I was thinking about all of these, I was getting bombed by messages in my Chinese class chat. I took a lot of the contents of the chat and, instead of text messages, I am actually bombed by videos. Videos. And these videos are not selfies or pets or food, instead, just by looking at their thumbnails, I could see orange flames ? behind the “play” icon.

The fire was on the top floor of the science block. Probably due to someone sneaking into the block and trying to do some secret experiments. Speaking of fires in our school, there was one about 3 months ago in Tent Plaza. It was caused by our Science teacher (I know, everything is related with science right), when he was trying to cook some beyond meat for the beyond burgers and added too much vegetable oil. I don’t really know the details of the incident but, I started to find science a pretty dangerous subject (especially Chemistry).

Well, I think I should still go to school tmr since… since I can’t think of any excuses… Chinese New Year is coming soon and which all the misfortune and diseases to be gone on Jan 25!

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So it was a cool Sunday afternoon. I had just finished all of my homework (or maybe that was my excuse for browsing on the web) and started looking for a crack for Sibelius. There was a really good melody in my head that I was in an urge to record it but I could not find any tool. The basic version for Sibelius was actually quite good already but the song that I was thinking of includes so many different musical instruments that Sibelius Basic does not have. And so therefore I was on my journey to a crack for Sibelius Pro.

As usually I went in and out of website, but Sibelius seemed to protect its copyright really well and I could not find even one pirated version of it. The only ones that I could find were the websites that automatically generate webpages that says “XXX’s crack” or “XXX free down” but are actually another app when you actually download and open the package. I got really frustrated seeing all these unzipped files that says FlashPlayer (remember they are supposed to be cracks for Sibelius?) and the RAR files scattered around my desktop.

I was just going to hurl these into the trash bin in the corner of my screen when I suddenly thought: Why not see what’s inside? It was a stupid thought, an extremely stupid idea indeed, but there was the devil in my heart continuously prompting me to do the “double-click”. The icon was there. Open it up and install it and I will see what it is and what it does, I was thinking. I knew it’s a scam but what’s there to be afraid of? At the worst, it would just not run and I would just move it to trash. A package file ending up in the trash was just a matter of time, why not try something fun if I couldn’t install Sibelius Pro anyways?

So then the process started. I knew exactly how to start installing, to authenticate the app, to key in my password and to drag things around. It was awesome. The fun of seeing the process bar slowly reaching for the end at the right was more enjoyable than everything else.

Installation ends. While I was closing the window I suddenly realized that some other softwares were also installed: there was one called “Phase Search” — an app with a green icon and the sign with a magnifier in the middle, another app called something doctor, and some so-called photo editor.

This was a really common case if it was in windows. Some apps just want to promote some other apps so that they make you accidentally download something else when you are downloading the apps you want. Just delete the ones you don’t want. It was that easy. So I proceeded to the “Applications” folder and searched for the five extra apps that I downloaded by chance.

And then it started. Mac’s default browser Safari opened on its own. I was quite surprised. Instinctively I did ⌘ ⌥ esc to quit Safari, but something was faster than me. A series of apps suddenly jumps out and blocked my sight to the Force Quit Window. I tried to reselect the window, but I couldn’t move my mouse. It seemed to get stuck.

Oops.

I used my trackpad instead and tried to move the cursor on the screen. It was no use. My cursor was controlled by something.

Ooooops.

Instantly my sight went to the opened apps. There were five of them, exactly the ones I unexpectedly installed. The “Phase Search”, “Doctor”, “Photo Editor”, “Image editor”.

No!! ⌘ ⌥ esc! My cursor was as still as a statue in the middle of the screen.

⌘ ⌥ esc! 

⌘ ⌥ esc! 

Windows started jumping out. At a rate of several per second. 10 of them, 20 of them, 30 of them, gradually covering my whole 15-inch screen. NOOOOOO!!!!

My mac started fanning, beeping irregularly like a siren. It was a mix of red and orange and yellow on the screen. “100 windows opened!” One of the windows says, I didn’t know which. It was a huge mess everywhere. Everything appeared as a flash in a fraction of a second and then being covered by another new window again.

So force-quit did not work, cursor did not work, staring at the screen and be at a loss at what to do was the least helpful thing of the all. I stared at the button at the top right part of my keyboard, thinking of my unsaved documents, my Econs and Compsci essays unsaved in Microsoft word. It was the only choice.

I pressed the button.

My sight turned black abruptly in a brief second, and then I drew my self back to the reality. The fanning without any warning stopped “phew” it said.

It was just 5 minutes ago since I double-clicked and put my mac’s fate in the mouth of a shark. 6:15, the clock said as I sat back with my head blank. Perhaps the virus drained all of my energy too. It was always summer in Singapore, yet it feels so cold sitting in an aircon room hearing wind whistling violently outside.

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Inspired by Lights out, who’s there?
Watch here

11 pm, her normal bedtime. She filled herself a glass of water on the dining table. Swallowing, she felt the sound of water sliding down her throat. After finishing she looked around. Things were strangely quiet in an eerie way. She shivered.

She had graduated from university three months ago. Mum had wanted her to work in her hometown so that she would be able to return home everyday, but thinking of getting a job with more potential, she had decided to go to a foreign first-tier city, alone. Considering her situation, she had rented a cheap house near the central of the city, paying an unacceptably high rent.

A corridor, long and narrow, was at the corner of the dinning room. The end of the corridor was the door to her bedroom. It had been left ajar, light shone out from it, an ice-blue color. She preferred warmer colors, but this light would do for her first night in the cheap rental house. Light switches for the whole house were on the left of the doorframe, yellowed with age, which she hesitated before touching it.

With a few clicks the lights were off. She got into the room walking directly towards her bed. Sitting down, she took her phone and opened WhatsApp. 0 messages. Refresh. 0 messages. It was not until then she realized that there was no signal in the rental house, and as she never turned on her data, she was completely separated from the world in the past few hours when hurrying to get things organized in the rental house. Mum should have already texted her a thousand messages now. Worriedly, she turned on her data and called Mum.

“Hello?” The warm and steady voice put her a bit more at ease.

“Hi Mum, it’s me.” She had a sudden impulse to cry.

“Fibie! Oh my god I… Why did you not call me! It seemed like you have disappeared. How was everything going?”

She hesitated, looking around the old, yellowish rental house. “Oh I am living with my friend! Remember Maggie? My primary school’s friend.” She started making it up. “Never mind, everything is going w—” Crack! Something is wrong with the bed. She struggled to stand up, but it was too late. Boom! The whole bed crashed onto the filthy floor. She felt extreme pain in her waist. She tried to stand up. Two legs at the end of the bed had snapped. She stepped back in terror. “What happened?!” Mum yelled on the other end of the call. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” She tried to speak in her normal voice. “Good night mum.” She said quickly and abruptly ended the call.

Dread was spreading in her body. The broken bed seemed to be unexpected and normal. It was getting cold. Wind was whistling by the window violently, vehemently, fiercely. I should rest, she thought. I should rest and tomorrow will be a sunny day again.

She walked towards the door and stretch out a hand lazily and pulled on it. The door did not move. She dragged the door with both hands, hard this time. The wooden door started to move and squeaked as it turns. Crack! The poor-quality doorframe had a tiny spine sticking out from the top. The door hit the spine and stopped moving, as if setting itself against her deliberately.

She pulled even harder. The door did not move. She put her whole weight on the door, staring at the end of the corridor hard, as if that would make her stronger or ease the pain on her hands. A gust of cold wind blew onto her cheeks. She opened her eyes wide, but suddenly, it seemed, there was something in the darkness. She searched in the darkness for the same color and contour that she just saw, and there, at the end of the corridor, was a lump of shadow, shadow with a dark color, much darker than its surrounding area. She widened her eyes in horror, with her sudden realization that it was a silhouette, a still silhouette of a woman. Restraining herself from screaming, she immediately fumbled for the light switches on her right. Click click. Lights were on, nothing was there. “Ah.” She felt a sense of relief. Out of pure curiosity, she turned the lights back off. Click. The shadow was still there. Her heart tensed again. Click. Lights on, nothing. Click. Lights off, the shadow appeared. She fiddled the switch for a few times, started to feel bored and turned the lights off the last time, deciding to go to bed. Click. The shadow was not there. She searched for the shadow again and again at the end of the corridor, and in a sudden, she saw it.

The silhouette was midway through the corridor.

Lights on. Lights off again, just as her hand got away from the switches, the air coagulated.

The shadow was in front of her, next to the doorframe.

She screamed.

Lights on. She took some tape to fix the light switches, making sure that they are not going to turn off. I need to sleep, she thought. Corridor lights on, desk lamp on, the whole house bright and safe. She crawled onto the broken bed, hiding her head underneath the blankets. She watched the bright lights through the blanket, starting to feel dizzy and sleepy.

A soft click. Losing her consciousness, she did not hear it. A loud click. She was quickly alerted, shrinking into the blanket fearfully.

Click. Her heart started racing. She held her breath.

Click. It was the desk lamp. She screamed, becoming weak and limp, feeling unable to control her body. The blanket slid off down the slope of the broken bed.

Now she was exposed to the infinite darkness.

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It was a sunny day, scorching hot. The brilliant rays from the sun were shining onto the top of the building, licking its surface like a hot-blooded serpent. Although it was not outdoors, Prince Regent Charles’s hospital was filled with ferocious heat, as if trying to drain you and squeeze out the last bit of consciousness from your body. Everything other than the heat was the crowd, men women children from Bubanzi, Cibitoka, Kayanze, and villages Imamu had never heard of, hurrying here for the medical care.

Imamu was familiar with the heat. Not long ago he had caught a cold and suffered from fever. Dizzy and having a headache, he had hobbled along the muddy roads, all the way to Prince Regent Charles hospital.

“Ahem!” The old man sitting behind Imamu coughed. Imamu alerted. The faded plastic chair became sticky in the high temperature, its skin coiled up and were peeled off. Half sitting and half lying on the chair, Imamu felt the sun biting into him, eating into his vulnerable skin. Unable to move, he faced directly at the yellowed clock hanging on the potholed wall. The pointer was pointing right when he came, but now it is pointing upwards, straight up between the smooth “1” and the curly “2”. Dalia, he thought. The clock was fuelled on Dalia’s life. Every second it ran Dalia got sicker.

Two people were chatting on his side, both just brought a small bag for medicine collection. Their faces wrinkled by the buffeting wind and the sweltering sun, while both of them were energetic, a genuine smile extended on their faces. 

“Waiting in the line worth it,” one said, “as long as I no need to pay for my wife’s medicines.” 

The other nodded.

“It has been hot this year, my coffee tree’s dying. I might only be able to earn half of last year’s…” 

Getting medicines free of charge? Imamu did not think so. Not here. Authorities are accustomed to using their power to fleece the less privileged ones whenever they could. Giving free services? No way.

Imamu felt tired. He closed his eyes and sank into his memories. Last time he came to the hospital alone, he had been dizzy and having a headache. Half asleep and half awake, he had waited in the flock of people, somehow got into the consulting room, facing the man wearing an oversized white coat. The doctor had said to Imamu that he has got influenza. “Rest well.” His only advice in two words. “What about medication?” The doctor had called in another patient, saying no more to Imamu. Imamu had stumbled back home. It was a week of unendurable illness, but it was after the experience a neighbor had revealed to him that people covertly bribe doctors for real treatment in free government’s hospitals. They called this paying “health fees”.

A man walked out of the consulting room, frustrated with tears on his cheeks. A tall pregnant woman with a three-year-old boy in her arms entered, but came back out after a few minutes, her calmness washed away in salty tears. Imamu sighed and looked around, there were sounds of children coughing and vomiting all over the line. Normally Imamu would be filled by agony every time he heard children suffering, but now it only reminded him of Dalia. Funny, Imamu grit his teeth, coming to a free public hospital carrying a sack of money. He patted on his backpack again, reassuring himself. He had sold half of his coffee trees to get the hospital fees after Dalia started coughing during the day and having headaches at night.

All of a sudden, people in front of him began to move. The line dispersed to give way to a young doctor wearing glasses. “The hospital is now closed. Come back later in the afternoon. Now leave, please!” Imamu opened his mouth to the shape of an “O”. The room turned completely silent swiftly. It was people getting shocked, unable to accept what had just happened. It was a long pause. No one said a word. The doctor turned away from the crowd, walked back to the consulting room, his footsteps echoing on the cold, marble floor. It sounded like a clock ticking, a countdown, the elapsion of Dalia’s life. My daughter, five years old, lying on her bed with a serious fever! She might not be alive tomorrow. With the thought, Imamu’s legs gave away. He knelt. He yelled and cried in silent and no one cared. The doctor opened the door and went in, with a loud “BANG” of the closing door, he was gone.

A newborn baby’s cry broke the silence, his mother sang a lullaby and wept. The crowd started to move towards the exit. Imamu pushed the man next to him to grab his backpack and jostled towards the consulting room. “Doctor!” His words were lost in the crowd. “Please! Doctor!” The flood of people carried him away. He struggled towards the doorframe of the room. “Plea—” He got the door handle. “I beg you! I have a daughter!” The door was firmly locked. Tears rolled off his chin, he hollered in despair. “I’ll pay you health fees!” He heard small movements inside the door. “I’ll pay you health fees…double!” The door opened. For a moment Imamu stood there, shocked, unable to say a word. 

“Sit down.”

A cold and impatient command. The doctor was in front of his desk, facing the large computer screen. The lamp shone cold light onto his glasses, reflecting into Imamu’s eyes, making him shiver. A quick scan around the room. It was bright and soothing, almost perfect, he would say, if not so bare. The four walls were painted bright white, not a single tiny cave on it. The marble floors made a clear and resounding echo when he walked on it, a sound he rarely heard. In the middle of the room erected the desk, what a beautiful thing it is; all the surfaces covered in a light birch color, a perfectly rounded pen pot made out of frosted glass placed lightly on the edge, a silvery notebook with a delicate apple mark on its cover — the computer. Imamu sat onto the plastic chair. The moment his muscles relaxed, the uncomfortable feeling was, like waves, surged through him again. It was the rolling wheels underneath the chair’s legs. 

There wasn’t much conversation. Recalling Dalia’s symptoms was painful. He shed his tears with his broad fingers full of calluses. He kept telling, memories freely flew out from his dry lips like a sad river, his sight fell on the buttons of the doctor’s coat, then on the doctor, who seemed to pay no attention. The doctor looked at his screen, his hand as if aimlessly, wrote little things. Words numbers symbols that he did not recognize.

He finished. Imamu waited. The doctor’s face was shone blue by the light of the screen, hard and motionless. The doctor stood up, as if a solemn judge doing a sacred ritual, he announced: 

“Chloroquine, Quinine, Mefloquine.”

Imamu did not understand.

“Health fee?” The doctor finally asked.

Imamu knew what to do. Carefully, he took out the sack full of notes and coins from his backpack, then handed it over. A mix of smells of soil and metal came out as soon as the bag was opened. The coins shone golden-yellow, the genial holy illumination before a child was being saved, Imamu thought. The doctor took the calculator on the desk and started pressing the buttons. The hospital was quiet, the elapsion of time was only indicated by the “tac tac” sound of the calculator. Looking back on the sack of health fees, the doctor frowned.

A sudden buzzing sound. Imamu was startled and almost jumped up. The doctor took the call with composure. “Hello?”

A man was talking on the other side of the call and Imamu couldn’t hear. His sound keep buzzing and buzzing. The harangue took forever. The buzzing sound resonance in the large room. Imamu looked at the plain walls. Where does the extra health fees go? Maybe it’s for some more equipment to fill up the room, just like in the big hospital in the cities. With more equipment he would not have to pay so much health fee next time the kids got sick, or other children like the ones waiting outside. Maybe also some bookshelf next to the curtains, just for the files piled up on the table so the line could, perhaps, go faster. The two sacks of money was half of his year income, afterall.

Imamu looked at the clock. The pointer was now back to the beginning of the cycle, pointing at “1”. He winked at the doctor, trying to catch his attention, but it was no use.

“I got a patient in Prince hospital. He got double the fees. No, I am not doing one more leg surgery. Wait, the fees are up to us? In Gambro Healthcare?” Gambro Healthcare, Imamu had heard of that hospital. It was in a building with 100 floors, people said. The uncle in his village said every time he walked past the building he felt cold air coming out from it.

“Who? Mr. Chidike? Isn’t he the police chief’s son!? Oh dear, a cut on his leg? Let me see, I’m hurrying there now. Can he please wait for 30 minutes?” Imamu now understood, there was the son of the police chief in their district that got a cut on his lower leg from a gang fighting. If receiving no treatment, a permanent scar would be left.

“Excuse me sir! My daughter is very sick now!” Imamu tried to interrupt the call. The doctor walked towards the door. Imamu panicked,  feeling dizzy from breathing off the top of his lungs, he struggled to stand up from the swivel chair, reaching towards the doctor. The doctor was half out of the doorframe, Imamu managed to grab onto a corner of his clean white coat.

Slap! Imamu felt burning pain on the left side of his cheek. Before he could realize that it was a smack, the corner of the coat disappeared between the doorframe and the closing door.

Imamu sagged down, fell forward and his face hit the floor. His head was full of the coughing and crying sound of Dalia, but all of a sudden they faded. The bright afternoon sunshine slide across his cheeks along with his tears, then disappeared behind the thick hospital curtain.

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It was a hot day during Summer. There wasn’t even a tiny piece of cloud. The brilliant rays were shining onto the playground, licking its surface coiling around the sports equipment like a great hot-blooded serpent. He sat under a big tree with lots of branches and leaves, besides his best friend Steve, looking towards kids screaming on the playground, his eyes blank. His mind still filled with heavy thoughts. He has got a Math and Science exam on the next day, yet he missed more than one important points in class. Do things have to be this way? With only hours to prepare for the test and figuring out so many hard questions? His heart was racing. I’m just like this vulnerable tree waiting to be burned to death. “Kelvin, you sure you are ok?” Steve asked. Kelvin remained silent. He was brought back to the classroom by Steve. “Tell me what’s going on Kelvin.” He hesitated, unsure whether he should tell the shameful truth to his best friend. Just then, his face was covered in a big hug. He felt the warmth, he enjoyed in it, it was the first time that he had opened up his heart to somebody else. They talked for a long time. Steve opened up his notebook and started preparing Kelvin for the exam together. They returned home together late in the evening.

BOOM! A thunder brought Kelvin back to reality. He stood up and quickly closed the windows. Do I have to do this, leaving my friend behind? Grey had carpeted the sky, blocking out the sun. Another memory flashed out.

It was thundering outside. He was outside the classroom nervously, phrasing sentences. His English teacher had asked everyone to show her their test that they just did last week, and to explain to her how they had made the mistakes. He had tried hard to memorize the vocabulary before the test, spending hours every day, but as if having no talent in languages at all, he still got a B. His stood outside the classroom, trying to knock on the door, but his hand froze halfway through the movement. “Come in!” It was a soft voice inside the classroom. He opened the door, walked a few steps falteringly, and handed the paper over. Slowly, he faced his teacher. It wasn’t the scolding that he was expecting, but instead a warm smile. “I know you are doing your best. I can see your improvement in your grade, and just let me show you a few tricks to memorize those tricky words!” He was surprised, and shyly he gave a small smile. It was the best time that he had ever had in this classroom.

Kelvin focused on the shelf again. Should I leave these all behind? The grey sky restlessly grumbled. The thick blackened clouds were finally dragged down by the heavy rain which it held in its delicate frame. Yes. He missed his friend, he loved his teacher, yet he hated these books. He could get a better grade in a future by studying harder, spending more times than others, yet he hated the days and nights which he sat here, studying and memorising these contents word by word, character by character. He isn’t into these. After the last bit of hesitation, gazing at the bookshelf again, he took a pen, walked to his dad’s room. He slowly brought his hand up, and carefully, cautiously knocked on the door.

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– What the writer focuses your attention on at the beginning
– How and why the writer changes this focus as the extract develops
– Any other structural features that interest you

In the extract of Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, the writer structured the text to interest readers.

Firstly, the writer interests readers by putting the focus on the sceneries at the outset of the extract. This is shown when the writer illustrates the things around the river — the “rioted vegetation”, the “thick and sluggish air” and sunshine. With the focus on the sceneries, the writer gives the reader a clear idea of what kind of special environment the extract takes place in. Therefore, the writer interests readers by putting the focus on the sceneries at the outset of the extract.

Secondly, the writer changes the focus in the extract. This can be shown when the writer starts to describe the main character, Marlow’s thoughts and feelings when he was steering: “There were moments when one’s past came back to one, as it will sometimes when you have not a moment to spare for yourself…” This makes the text more interesting, as the readers would not only know about the sceneries but also about what kind of person Marlow is through his inner feelings. Thus, the writer changes the focus in the extract to interest the readers.

Thirdly, the writer slows down the pace at the end of the extract to interest the readers. There are lots of information closely packed at the beginning of the second paragraph, such as descriptions of the natives, of the station on the bank, and of the features of the trees. Everything happens at a fast speed. On the contrary, when it comes to the end of the second paragraph, the pace slows down. This gives the feeling as if the boat went deep into the forest, resulting in creating a mysterious atmosphere that interests the readers. For this reason, the writer slows down the pace at the end of the extract.

As a conclusion, the writer uses structure techniques on the text to make it more interesting to the readers.

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