I don't know how to start. Seriously. When everyone was hoping, praying for a Straight A1s, I did too, but never actually meant it. I knew my capabilities. I was never labelled as a 4-flatter, nor a 'Straight A Student'. I was merely an average student leader who ran here and there at maktab with all sorts of arrangement and welfare of the students in mind. Half of me wishing I was like the others, sitting in class, pouring over books. But from the start, I knew I had to make sacrifices. I did, and I accepted it. Simply said, I never put much hope, but I struggled till the very end, knowing extra hard work was the only thing that'll make a difference. I just wanted to do my best, that's all. Regardless of the result.
So yesterday, I cried. I never thought I could. I never thought I would. Looking through the namelist of the 44 Straight A1s students, I can't help but noticing how oddly out-of-place my name was. A part of me kept on telling that everything was just a dream. It felt surreal.
I glanced back one by one at the A1 SATU on my slip. Scenes of me under the stairs at 3 in the morning, me in the middle of Dataran TL with bahiah on the tikar, me in bilik BWP alone during prep time, me in the iron room with fats and leeya, me being tearfully brainwashed for an hour by Cikgu Izzuddin, me and the other 202 Unineties at surau; all of these flashed back in my mind. All the hard work finally paid off. I smiled.
Thanks, friends. No matter who you are, reading this, I know somehow you've helped me. May Allah bless you, and keep the prayers coming, this is just the beginning.