I did not cry on my first day in primary school. I wanted to show my parents, and future friends, how brave I was. My teacher, a friendly young man dressed in a bright orange suit, welcomed me with a warm smile. He urged me to join my classmates, most of which were crying uncontrollably. 'Cry- babies.' I muttered under my breath.

The teacher handed each of us a colouring book and exactly 10 multi-coloured pencils. Well, even if there were more than 10, that was the maximum number I could count to at that age. The teacher arranged our tables in alphabetical order. I was in the very back of the class and I could see very well that most of the kids were still sobbing frantically. The teacher obviously knew how to handle cry babies, as he did the year before and the year before that. He simply ignored us and it worked. After about 40 minutes, the kids realised that they would not get their mother back, and stopped crying. They started colouring instead.

The teacher later introduced himself as Mr Idris. He encouraged each one to stand up and tell everyone their respective names. 'Darren' I said proudly, however nobody, except the teacher, seemed to care.

During the break, we were served mashed potatoes accompanied by fruit juice. This was also the moment I met one of the most important people in my future life, my best friend Ken Choo. 'The food tastes bad' he had told me ' Do you want a chocolate cookie my mommy made for me?'

We spent the whole day colouring and drawing. The end of the day came soon enough. We brought our coloured pictures home to show our parents. I felt very grown-up, I was in school now.