Today is Thursday, and it is an assembly day for my school. This week is also the Racial Harmony week - sure, no problems.

The dance performance for today's assembly was absolutely entertaining. I always loved these dance troupes the school invites every year for the Racial Harmony week. We see these dances every year, but it still fascinates me.

After the performance, our beloved teacher-in-charge of CCAs had a little talk with us. It was, no doubt, as interesting as the performance earlier because the entire upper secondary students listened attentively like punished soldiers.

She had a meeting with the MOE officials a few days back, and they discussed about the CCA point allocation system. She informed us of the requirements we need to meet in order to get our CCA points, and that all of us will be doomed with a F9 (along with the wipeout of all the CIP hours we have painstakingly accumulated through these years) if we do not meet at least 75% attendance each year for all four years.

"So, what if for Sec 1, Sec 2 and Sec 3 I have been attending my CCA religously and I did not meet 75% for the last year? All the tuitions and that," a friend of mine asks urgently.

"Well, according to her - wiped," I answered.

"What? Then what about the CIP hours we have done?"

"What I said."

"You've got to be joking."

"She's not."

"This is unfair."

"Tell the school."

"They're not going to listen."

"MOE then."

"We only have 2 weeks left."

"Welcome to Singapore."

"Fuck."

It was unfair. It was unfair indeed. I did not get to choose my CCA when I first entered my school, and I was given my CCA according to my primary school's CCA. I protested. I fought. I resisted.

Still, I was forced to attend my 'chosen' CCA.

I developed a phobia of answering calls at night (yes, don't call me at night). I became hostile to anyone who reminds me that I have CCA on those particular days. I cried on mornings of my CCA days. I made myself sick to skip my CCA practices.

It destroyed my life. I never thought I would have to go through this again.

When burning tears well inside your eyes and you tell them that you do not wish to accept the choice of CCA they have made for you, they brush you off with excuses.

"Don't you worry, you will like it. Now run along - I am busy."

These people have no idea. They have no idea at all.

The second year was the last straw. I could not take it any longer when I entered the third year. I lied. I cheated. I played truant. I nearly burnt my CCA uniform.

They finally stopped pestering me three months into the third year, and my friends reminded me that my CCA grade was at stake.

"It affects your future," they tell me.

I realised that it indeed was, so I searched for a new CCA. I found one that I really liked, and I joined promptly.

I soon became the chairman of the CCA, and helped in many school and regional activities. I was relieved. I was glad. I was happy.

Unforunately, my teacher forgot to input my contributions for the CCA for the third year and since I have very willingly quitted my first CCA, I will not be able to obtain CCA points for that two years.

Now, my CCA grade is again at stake. It is not even my fault. They are awarding me a F9 for a teacher's negligence, and the pain I struggled with for all these years. I cannot protest. I cannot fight. I cannot resist.

They win. They always do.

Meritocracy, you tell me? Or is it really a molding factory?

Don't you puppets dare answer.

I know the answer.