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Sunday, June 12, 2005

The Injustices Of My University Life.

Imagine this:

You're a university student, and this is the final semester of your course. You have been studying pretty hard to ensure the fact that you can graduate in time. Now, there's this girl (whom I will refer only as Miss O as I don't like to name names much), an acquaintance you knew back in your college in Malaysia, who had just came to Perth during the beginning of this semester, who isn't really pretty, in fact, she resembles a weasel, but that is not the point. What she likes to do is to hassle you weekly, begging and pleading for you to lend her the notes you have done for your Marketing Law subject, and better, she begs and pleads for the answers of the tutorial questions because, for reasons that can never be comprehended, she seems perfectly incapable of doing her homework without relying on you.

You have a major flaw, and that is, you never seem to know how to say NO. Sure, she makes outrageous requests, but how can you say no? Well, if you do so, you'll end up having her talking behind your back, and also, since she is your classmate for another unit, things will be really awkward, and you'll probably feel that it's way too difficult to handle these as you are not strong enough, nor have a 'don't give a damn' attitude.

And you ended up giving in to this, and allow this to happen for a couple of weeks.

Mid-term test (not exactly a mid-term test, considering that it is held during the second last week of the semester) was coming, and you had been studying insanely hard for this, treating this as a Final Exam. Hours and hours you spend, in the library.

After the results were out, you got a 27 out of 38, not exactly really satisfying, but at least an improvement from the previous test. Now, you see Miss O, and asked what she got for her results. Miss O, giggling giddily, told you that she got 33 out of 38. Impressive, you gasped, you were stupefied, you asked how did she manage that?

She blushed, and giggled once more, telling you that she didn't know, everything was just a fluke.

You saw another friend, the hapless boyfriend of your excessively sensitive flatmate, and asked for his results as well. Guy grinned and told you. He got better results than you did, even though he was never known to excel academically throughout the years you knew him back in Malaysia.

Once again, you couldn't disguise your surprise, and marveled at his impressive results. However, this chap is a rather honest chap, and he begins whispering to you what really happened, and asked you to promise not to tell anyone this.

Apparently, this chap and Miss O, along with a few others you know from your Malaysian college had actually gotten their hands on the questions few days prior to the test. It all had to do with the network they establish with their friends back in good old Malaysia, who all seem to have the privilege to access all these confidential info due to a lecturer who worries too much about the results of her students. They have already known what was coming out for the test, they knew which part of the textbook to focus on, what kinds of questions to look for, and perhaps, a couple of questions have been leaked out unintentionally by the lecturer back in the Malaysian college.

You are furious. Your hardwork, your hours spent on studying were all for naught. People who put in not even a QUARTER of your effort are easily scoring higher than you do, and gaining the affections of the tutors and lecturers. Conscience? What conscience? You are nothing but a tool used by the likes of Miss O. Despite your efforts in helping her, THIS is what she does by repaying you. To work behind your back, acquiring useful information for the test and not telling you a single word.

There is nothing you can do. Expose her? Complain against school authorities? You are just weeks away from graduation, what can you do? In the end, you resigned to your fate and looked for this surrogate little brother-type friend of yours, whispering your plight to him during dinner.

This surrogate little brother-type friend, however, is a more vengeful person, his hatred and disdain for these people he knew back in his Malaysian college were one of his greatest source of angst and anger after his rather upbeat high school life. He decides to put all these onto his blog. And yes, the aforementioned blog is the blog you are currently reading.

Imagine the kind of shit that happened to my friend happening to you. When I look at people like Miss O, and the other blokes who had to use deception and trickery to pass their tests, to work through their semesters, to gain their degrees, I realize that they are what they are.


And being the trash they are, they belong to the trashcans, not the university.