Why my dad is my favourite leader
My dad taught me the importance of how to overcome a shortcoming with grace and humility.
On Wednesday, Nurulhidayah, the daughter of our Deputy Prime Minister, stepped forward to defend her father against criticism that he lacked a certain degree of proficiency in the English language. Lashing out at her father’s critics, she claimed Ahmad Zahid Hamidi was a man of great stature.
Nurulhidayah’s statement reminded me of how I felt about my own dad.
You see, my dad is an eloquent man. He may be ordinary and simple, but he is articulate and expressive in his use of the Queen’s English. Born in the 40s, my dad was English educated and to this day speaks with great “class”, something that has never failed to impress members of his family. In fact, it was he who taught me English at the tender age of four.
However, while my dad’s English is excellent, his command of Bahasa Malaysia leaves much to be desired. As a language he used only to communicate with fishmongers and vegetable sellers at the market; the appam balik and fruit seller at the pasar malam; and also when visiting government departments, dad’s proficiency (or lack of it) was often the centre of our jokes at home.
However my dad has never been someone who takes his weaknesses lightly. Recognising his need to master Bahasa Malaysia, he made every effort to learn the language. From watching the Bahasa Malaysia edition of news on television, to making frequent references to the Kamus Dewan and reading articles in Bahasa Malaysia, my dad pursued with gusto every opportunity available to him to speak the language more proficiently.
His desire to improve made him befriend those who spoke Bahasa Malaysia – people from the mosque, people at Malay weddings and funnily, even the pakcik who frequented our home to buy dad’s pandan kelapa.
When my brothers and I visited, dad would engage in long discussions with us about specific Malay phrases and terminology he came across, and in the process, we too learnt more about our language.
After years of laughing at my dad’s flaky command of Bahasa Malaysia, today my brothers and I admire him instead. He no longer writes “Pakcik” as “Pa’ chik” or pronounces “telur” as “tulur”. Dad speaks and writes Bahasa Malaysia with confidence now.
Just as Nurulhidayah is proud of her dad, I too, am very proud of mine. Not only did my dad improve his proficiency in our national language, but a few years ago, he poured himself into learning to read and write our mother tongue – yes, Tamil – thanks to my Tamil-schooled mom, who gamely assumed the role of his tutor.
My dad may not be a speaker at the United Nations General Assembly or a politician like Nurulhidayah’s dad, but he knows that learning is a never ending process. And my dad is someone who leads by example. As the leader of our family, my dad has taught me that a weak person will always use his weakness as an excuse but a strong person will work on improving his weakness.
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