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COMMENT | Leah is an adorable, bubbly 10-year-old who happens to be the daughter of a good friend of mine. Having known her mother for donkey years, I have watched Leah grow since she was a day old, and boy, did she turn out to be such a pleasant little girl who brings so much joy to those around her.

Recently, I took Leah out for some jalan-jalan at the park and some waffles at my favourite joint. Spending a good few hours together, we had a lot of things to talk about, from her new pet dog all the way to her attempts at impersonating Miranda Sings, a well-known YouTuber.

At one point, Leah began talking about her friends at school and her teachers.

“Aunty Fa, I always have this one problem at school,” she began her story.

“What is it?” I was intrigued.

“Like the other day, my teacher asked all the Malay students in class to stand up. After counting them, she asked the Chinese and then the Indians to stand up.

"After everyone sat down, she called my name and asked why I did not stand up. I told her it was because I was not a Malay, Chinese or an Indian, but she scolded me, saying I am an Indian.”

After sipping her vanilla milkshake, Leah continued her story intensely.

“Aunty Fa, how can I be an Indian when I am not one?”

I smiled. Born to a Goan father and a Filipino mother, it seemed to me that Leah was having an identity crisis at such a tender age.

“What are you then?” I asked.

“I am English!” she answered in a jiffy.

I laughed out loud at her cuteness overload.

“How can you be English when neither of your parents is one?” I asked, in between chuckles.

“Well, I speak English, I dress English, I watch English movies, I think in English and I do everything English. So doesn’t that make me English?” she asked.

“What about food? Do you also like English food?” I asked.

“No way!” Leah replied, “I love nasi lemak, roti canai and Milo!”

We both laughed.

“Well, that doesn’t quite make you English,” I joked.

“What does it make me then, Aunty Fa?” asked Leah, her big eyes staring at me.

“It makes you a Malaysian,” I smiled.

“If only my teacher asks Malaysian students to stand up, I would surely stand up – but she doesn’t. It is always Malay, Chinese and Indian,” Leah grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it, at least you know who you are,” I tried consoling her.

“A Malaysian!” she said happily...

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