...Of my former school's recent products... Part 2

I was very upset to learn that a lot of things had changed in my former school – for worse.

Ira and I recently visited our former school in Labu by invitation to attend the launching of a fund raising activity which was held together with the Awards of Excellence presentation ceremony. Since being elected as an alumni exco, I had been missing some alumni’s meeting and thus made a point not to miss the ceremony albeit feeling dead beat, as I’d just returned from an ICT Carnival in Kuala Ketil the previous day.

As I leisurely drove my Proton Wira through Nilai, Ira started making observations on how things had tremendously changed since we left school. Gone were the old days when Nilai was just a simple cowboy town, with a few blocks of shops, a petrol station, a police station and a mosque. Now, there’s Nilai 3, (the famous wholesale centre) Nilai 2, Nilai 1, Nilai Industrial Park, and Nilai Lama. So many Nilai, that the many routes had become so confusing. Unlike the old highway exit that we used back in our school days, the present day exit is rather far from Nilai Lama and we could easily become lost on our way to Labu.

However, physically our old beloved school hadn’t gone through lots of changes. The tennis courts, basketball courts, football goal posts, rugby posts, the Rumah Sukans’ tents were all in need of new paint. There were some new buildings – but I think the students would appreciate getting more benches and covered areas to meet their parents/visitors. That day, the canteen was overcrowded with students and visitors, making it difficult for Ira and I to find seats to have our drinks after we were done with having a quick tour around the school.

We visited our former classrooms; marvelling at nice curtains and matching desk covers, envying the students for having lockers where else during our time, we had to make do with leaving our books and belongings arranged in the single drawer. We noticed that while the classes are named differently, the theme remained – and we later found out that most students still used Merah, Hijau, Kuning, Biru & Jingga to refer to classes rather than their formal names – Ibn Hathim, Al-Muwaffa’, Ibn Sina, Ar-Razi etc. And the naughtiest students could often be found in Biru class, my former class. I guess some things just never change…(*grinning mischievously*)

Ira and I peeked through the Language Lab’s tinted windows to see that the labs were in need of new audio-visual equipments. We were surprised to note that the library – which used to be quite huge - had actually been transferred to a smaller area. We took notice of the new-and-improved counselling room as well as the relatively new Al-Quran Lab which we did not have back then. On our way to the canteen, we read the posts on several announcement boards allocated for various students’ clubs and societies along the corridor, reminiscing our own participation in co-curricular activities.

Then, after having some drinks at the canteen, we continued our tour – entering the School Gallery of Honours. I was impressed with the many achievements that the school had accomplished – bagging titles and awards for various activities and competitions at district, state and national level.

There were a few students asking guests to sign in the guest book, so I took the opportunity to query them about life in the school. What I heard and learned however quickly extinguished the good impressions I had about the school’s achievements.

I was shocked to learn that the students no longer attend any ceramah between Maghrib and Isyak. Now they have to go for prep classes right after Maghrib and only pray Isyak after 10.30 p.m. A religious program is held once a week for every form where attendance is compulsory. Other than that and a weekly surah yaassin recital on Thursday nights, there’s no other religious activities. No usrah. No al-mathurat recital. No qiamullail. Nothing.

I told the girl who was telling us all these – there’s no hadith on yaassin recital on malam jumaat, but there’s lots of hadith on attending majlis ilmu. There’s a hadith encouraging Al-kahfi recital on Fridays though – so, why didn’t the smarty pant who came out with this wonderful idea of having once-a-week-religious-program-for-every-form put it into practice? To say I was disappointed was an understatement. I was totally devastated.

While I had never been the model student, I knew that going through what my colleagues and I did – attending usrah, waking up for qiamullail, reciting al-mathurat, having ceramah in between Maghrib and Isyak – those were the things that set us apart from fellow students elsewhere. Those were the 'extras' we experienced as students of a sekolah agama. Those were the things that made the difference.

The fourth formers who told us all these seemed to be in agreement – “Kitorang dah sama je dengan sekolah lain. Dah takde beza”. And that worried me greatly.

I want my former school to produce students who do well in their studies, who excel at sports and participate actively in co-curricular activities – but not at the expense of the students’ spiritual needs. Other schools are under no obligation to provide the ‘extras’ – the usrah, qiamullail, ceramah – but a sekolah agama ought to have all these. After all, the school’s aim is to produce well-balanced students who understand and can live out the principle of “berilmu, beriman, beramal”. But how could one beramal when he or she lacks the ilmu and the iman since there’s a deficiency in efforts to inculcate them while they are still at school?

I am worried because lack of ilmu and iman could lead to all kind of vices. Lack of ilmu and iman could be the beginning of a society which could accept that many schoolgirls lose their virginity at 14 or 16 and most male teenagers have experimented or are seriously involved with some form of drugs. Lack of ilmu and iman has a role in the increase of dysfunctional families, sleazy activities and corrupt practices.

With no ‘extras’ like we used to have, I’m very afraid that one day my former school will only be producing seemingly successful but spiritually-hollow students who could no longer live the 'berilmu, beriman, beramal’ principle accordingly.