To all the students mugging for O/A Levels right now: please listen to my story. Last night, my mum and I had a heart-to-heart talk over some dabao-ed Teochew porridge. It’s rare for her to be so quiet, but she looked at me—now that I’m finally graduating—and just let it all out. My mother is the quintessential “Ah Lian.” If you saw her in the 90s, she had the thin eyebrows, the bleached hair, and the attitude to match. She told me straight up: …
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