That was the question that caught me off guard. That was the question asked to me and my friends by one of the children at Rumah Nur Salam of Chow Kit, Kuala Lumpur. These kids are not orphans, they have their own set of parents and even siblings. Their parents send them off to Rumah Nur Salam early in the morning, or maybe late at night (depending on their shifts) and pick them up as usual when they get off work.
BUT,
what makes these kids different from other kids on the street or in your neighbourhood is that their parents don't have the usual, ordinary day-to-day job like our parents do. It's because these kids, their parents, are the victims of poverty (or maybe debt) in the city of Kuala Lumpur. Their parents are merely sex-workers, drug pushers - try naming a few other related jobs in the field, I'm pretty sure their parents would end up on the list. And this isn't me quoting ... It was directly quoted by the man himself who takes care of the welfare of the children who were sent to Rumah Nur Salam.
I can't say the name, due to security reasons, and my friends and I have already signed an agreement letter not to leak anything that may invite consequences. But if you head down to Rumah Nur Salam, you'd be able to find kids as young as 4 years old to 14 years old. They're well trained in manners, they greet you, they hug you, they even kiss your hands upon greeting the adults. And it just crushes my heart seeing them going through what they have to back with their families. Worst still, these kids, they know what their parents work as. Don't mind the young ones, even one day they're bound to know the truth. But what about the grown ups?
Imagine them having to go through every-single-day-back-and-fourth to school, meeting friends and teachers who actually know their background?
I'm not saying that their parents are to blame, NO. I'm 150% sure that the parents themselves don't want to be in the position they are or taking the job they have to. But what are they to do??
It keeps the food on the table for their children.
If it wasn't because of our assignment project, I doubt my friends and I would have gone to Rumah Nur Salam. Frankly, we didn't quite know the existence of this place as well. Sure, we've heard orphanage houses, old folks home, but never thought of a place such as Rumah Nur Salam.
Thanks to Pak Bol and his subject, Law & Society, me and my friends were asked to go and do surveys and participate in community services. And that was when we stumbled across Rumah Nur Salam.
During our visit, along the walls of Rumah Nur Salam, there were graffiti drawn by the children themselves, expressing their feelings and what they feel about their family. One painting of a boy named F***i caught my attention. He drew a picture of himself, looking sad sitting on the ground, his hands supporting his chin. Next to his picture was a cloud of thoughts where he wrote: "I was kidnapped for 3 days, but thank God I wasn't hurt by the kidnappers!" I couldn't describe the feeling I had the moment I saw the drawing. It was as if multiple feelings gushed through and for a moment there I thought I won't be able to do this interview, I won't be able to sit and have fun with these kids, cause I don't know how to even initiate conversations with them!
But at the end of the day, everything went well. The entire team went there to meet the children, to conduct the interview with NO proper planning I tell you. Yes, we drafted a few things, highlighted a few issues that needed to be addressed but boy, we weren't prepared for the bonding session.
The moment we entered the top floor (after the interview with the man who takes care of the children) into a room filled with kids laughing, running around, crying, looking tired yet psyched, instantly I saw smiles carved onto each and every one of my friends faces. I'm not sure they were smiling because of the cuteness and innocence of those children or because how relieved they felt for seeing these kids didn't have any sort of abusive marks on their bodies.
For me, it was both.
They started whipsering to one another, looking up at us, giggling away, acting shy and coy when we call their names. Then Daddy, (that's what the children calls the man) told them that they will be having special guests all the way from MMU, Melaka to spend some time with them playing games of all sorts and yadda yadda yadda. That was when the children started asking what is MMU, what course are we taking, why were we there ... It was quite a handful of questions, but I'll get to that later.
We played all sorts of games, starting with forming a group, coming up with a name and cheer for the group and surprisingly, these children came up with the group names and cheers themselves! All we did was facilitate and guided them. They had natural talents already. *wink* And they were as cool as a cucumber, introducing themselves with slight confidence with a firm handshake and big smile (even if they're 10!)
We spent about 2 hours there, playing and goofing, camwhoring - we didn't even realise time was almost up! (parents would start picking up their children soon) We had final goodbyes, took some mooooore photos and Q&A session began.
THAT
was when one boy, no older than 12 asked me and my friends "kakak, kakak ada rumah tak?" with the most innocent and honest face and tone I've ever seen and heard. We were taken aback. We looked at each other, not knowing what to answer. But most of all, I think we were all more shocked than wondering what to answer. In my mind these questions repeated over and over again: "WHY WOULD THIS KID ASK THAT KIND OF QUESTION OF ALL THE QUESTIONS HE COULD'VE ASKED IN THE WORLD?", "HOW DID IT EVEN OCCUR TO HIM TO ASK US WHETHER OR NOT WE HAD HOUSES?", "WHAT HAS THIS KID GONE THROUGH BACK HOME?"
Then, another kid asked "kenapa kakak dengan abang pakai lawa-lawa?" We honestly did not know how or what to answer ... Thank you to Daddy who stepped in by saying if we, the "brothers and sisters" did not wear nicely, then the kids won't want to play with us. Apparently that answer was satisfying enough for the children and they started to nod and giggled discretely.
All we could do was, smile ... What was there to answer?
Towards the end, we handed over some gifts to the children and Daddy for their support and time spent with us.
We left Rumah Nur Salam of Chow Kit that evening with different, mixed up feelings in each and every one of us. Regardless of how tired and exhausted we were, everyone was looking forward to going back to Melaka and submit the greatest assignment and story of the trimester, but one thing remained the same; the lives of those children in Rumah Nur Salam.
They will still be there. They will still be the same good old kids, just different visitors each day ...



