25 Years A Slave


This time 25 years ago, I was admitted to the Bar in Malaysia. I was allowed, from that day on, to refer to myself as a lawyer.

In the week running up to the occasion, I felt broke. I had spent my last Ringgit on the garb for the ceremony – wing tipped collar white shirt, bib, gown and proper shoes. I was so broke I did a runner when Andrew my cousin got married the week before, and avoided the tea ceremony. I couldn’t spare any dough for the ang pow.

Of the 5 people who were there with me that day, only my mum and Tress are left now. My dad and both my paternal grandparents are no longer with us. I miss them.

I wonder how many more years there will be left, before I stop being a lawyer. And do something else for a living.

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