I must admit that I never dreamt to be in a place like MCKK. I come from a small developing township in Terengganu, Malaysia where most people’s thoughts are confined to what they encounter everyday. Life is very mundane down there. So, you can imagine the leap I was taking when I entered college in 1990.

I can still recall vividly the registration day on 6th of January 1990. Almost everyone put on fancy dresses (except for Capoe @ Sdr. Mohd. Nizam Mat Daud who disastrously wore his school uniform!), and with that typical 'upper-class' attitude, they all strode to Hargreaves Hall. When I looked at myself, I felt so small and fickle. God knows how inferior I was as I watched these people conversed eloquently in English (well - at that time I thought they were eloquent, it took me seven years to realise that they might not have been that fluent after all!)

Thus, when my parents started to pack-up and left, I cried a lot - partly because I was beginning to miss them, but mostly because I was damn afraid. I was afraid that I would not be as good as these people. I was afraid that I would be ostracised because I knew nobody. I was afraid because this place seemed to be so gigantic, so new, so great...and yet I was just a little, ‘que’ kampung boy who never gets out of his shell. It was like putting John Bloggs from nowhere to start a life with a bunch of British aristocrats from Eton!