I WILL NOT BE UPDATING THIS WEBSITE ANYMORE.
I have started a new URL; http://www.proudduck.com/
To those who have kindly linked me, please modify the URL.
Thank you for all your support!
inside a shopaholic's head September 16, 2009
I swear I’m growing up.
I still find myself browsing shopbop and all the online shopping websites, but I’m more cautious of what I buy.
I’ll see the clothes and think to myself, “I always buy this kind of style” or “I already have that colour” or “Is this really worth the shipping and the customs tax?”
After so many questions posed to my conscience, I start to think the most dangerous question of all times.
“DO I REALLY NEED IT?”
Because logic can’t be argued with, I sadly remove all the 10 items in my online basket.
And I sadly exit the browser window.
Some more depressing days, I ask myself, “Can I afford it?”
No.
Suddenly, my dad’s credit card just shines and glows itself from my purse, overshadowing the other junk in there.
Oh, the devil. I start picturing my dad’s face, telling me to buy it please because “I want you to be happy, my munchkin.” (He never calls me that but at this point, I think whatever I want to think)
I bite my lip and slowly reach for it.
Wait!
“Can I really live with myself making my dad pay this much for a top, when I won’t even pay that much using my own money?”
NOOOOOOOO!!! Stop it stop it stop it.
When did I become like this?! When did I become sensible?
I used to not be able to sleep if I didn’t get that one thing I was eye-ing in the shop. I used to toss and turn in bed, and stand in front of the store as soon as it opens the next day. I used to pamper myself. I used to love myself!! Ugh…my poor loveless soul.
Now, I…think.
What’s with women and thinking too much?!
Nowadays, I can look at something really really pretty and know I want it, but don’t need it. I don’t have dreams about it anymore. I don’t have the urge to buy it anymore. If I can’t have it there and then, I can easily forget about it a few hours later. And I’m even happy knowing that my account is still in tact.
I start thinking (here I go again, thinking!) about the future and how I have to save up for….the future. I don’t exactly know what the future wants me to buy, but I know it’s going to be expensive!
Ugh, growing up and responsibilities.
But come to think of it….Would my future realllyyyy be damaged if I buy this one designer top?
After all, as my good friend always says, “Swipe now, think later.”
Uh-oh.
I’m so confused! Hehe
inside a shopaholic’s head September 16, 2009
I swear I’m growing up.
I still find myself browsing shopbop and all the online shopping websites, but I’m more cautious of what I buy.
I’ll see the clothes and think to myself, “I always buy this kind of style” or “I already have that colour” or “Is this really worth the shipping and the customs tax?”
After so many questions posed to my conscience, I start to think the most dangerous question of all times.
“DO I REALLY NEED IT?”
Because logic can’t be argued with, I sadly remove all the 10 items in my online basket.
And I sadly exit the browser window.
Some more depressing days, I ask myself, “Can I afford it?”
No.
Suddenly, my dad’s credit card just shines and glows itself from my purse, overshadowing the other junk in there.
Oh, the devil. I start picturing my dad’s face, telling me to buy it please because “I want you to be happy, my munchkin.” (He never calls me that but at this point, I think whatever I want to think)
I bite my lip and slowly reach for it.
Wait!
“Can I really live with myself making my dad pay this much for a top, when I won’t even pay that much using my own money?”
NOOOOOOOO!!! Stop it stop it stop it.
When did I become like this?! When did I become sensible?
I used to not be able to sleep if I didn’t get that one thing I was eye-ing in the shop. I used to toss and turn in bed, and stand in front of the store as soon as it opens the next day. I used to pamper myself. I used to love myself!! Ugh…my poor loveless soul.
Now, I…think.
What’s with women and thinking too much?!
Nowadays, I can look at something really really pretty and know I want it, but don’t need it. I don’t have dreams about it anymore. I don’t have the urge to buy it anymore. If I can’t have it there and then, I can easily forget about it a few hours later. And I’m even happy knowing that my account is still in tact.
I start thinking (here I go again, thinking!) about the future and how I have to save up for….the future. I don’t exactly know what the future wants me to buy, but I know it’s going to be expensive!
Ugh, growing up and responsibilities.
But come to think of it….Would my future realllyyyy be damaged if I buy this one designer top?
After all, as my good friend always says, “Swipe now, think later.”
Uh-oh.
I’m so confused! Hehe
industrialised building system September 14, 2009
The conventional method of construction is that everything is done on site; the framework, the floors, the hacking of electrical points etc. The not-so-good parts of that; it doesn’t guarantee a straight and neat wall, it takes longer, the site is messier, it produces a lot of wastage (e.g. these wood planks), it uses a lot of mortar in between the red bricks to hold it together, and many others.
Even the government thinks so. Recently, the Malaysian government has changed its approach in construction. From now on, all government projects have to comply with 70% IBS components.
Which is amazing for our company which is the only Malaysian company that produces both IBS wall (blocks and bricks) and IBS flooring/ceiling (slabs). Kind of like a one-stop center.
Let me introduce the blocks to you.
As you can see, it’s exactly like Lego.
We just stack them up and because they have tongue-and-groove, they lock themselves together. Because of this, we use less mortar and we save the developer’s cost on that. Other costs we can save are; labour (the job is so easy and so fast that only 1 or 2 workers are needed in a section), time (we can build a complete house in 2 months, therefore saving fixed costs), wastage, framework (we don’t need any framework at all), and plastering (because it’s so straight, you don’t need to patch up any defects), to name a few.
If you like the vintage look, you can even leave it like that, unpainted.
And as you can see, the site is also very clean and not messy.
Then, we have the slabs.
The conventional method requires that we do everything on site. Pour concrete, put all the steel bars, wait a few days for it to form strong bonds and dry. It’s a messy and tedious process.
The IBS system means that we do all these things in the factory, and just transport the concrete planks to the site and lay them.
Our slabs are prestressed slabs, which means that we have prestressed wires running along the concrete planks to create strong bonds. Because it’s prestressed, it produces even greater strength.
The benefits are obvious; cleaner, easier, faster (we can finish one floor in 2 days), better quality.
When we marry these 2 products, we create an efficient tool to build houses/schools/apartments/offices. My dad likes to call it BCF.
B for better quality.
C for competitive price.
F for faster.
The government (or any developer for that matter) would want their project to complete fast and “cheap”, but at the same time with better quality and safety.
We’ve come up with the solution. We can complete projects 3-4 times faster than conventional method.
And it’s so simple, I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier.
The end.
OMG I just gave you a mini presentation…Gahhh so proud of myself heee 
*flips hair, blows nails.*
a letter to my late grandma September 12, 2009
This was the last time I saw her. She was in the car at the airport, sending me off to UK, which she never usually does. I should’ve seen the sign.
Dearest Tok,
I had a dream that you told me you miss me.
I thought we had a deal that you weren’t going to haunt me in my sleep because I get scared very easily! Hehe.
Nonetheless, I knew you needed me, you needed all of us. And we’re all very sorry that we haven’t been there for you.
So I quickly took the Yasin and read for you. I told God to take care of you in heaven and not to put you through any suffering in the other realm. I cried to God to forgive any sins you might’ve committed in your lifetime; after all, you are only human.
I’m sure He listened to me, because I’ve been a very good girl lately. 
I’ve fasted the whole month so far, Tok, you would’ve been proud!
Everyone in the family is good. Dad is very busy with work, but he talks about you all the time. Mom is good too, she’s taking care of Dad very well. Along has 2 kids now; a boy and a girl, and her husband wants a whole football team, so expect more updates from me.
As for me, I just graduated, and am working with none other than your dearest son. Oh, and I have a boyfriend now. A serious one. No, really. Hehe. He’s such a nice guy who treats our family with genuine respect, not like the other one you didn’t really approve of! Hehe. I’m sure you will love this one! And don’t worry, he’s not mat saleh, he’s Malay. You can lie back down now. Mom and Dad obviously like him, but they still treat him as my “friend” and nothing more “because nothing’s for sure”.
I know you haven’t seen Opah around there. That’s because she’s still alive!
Her eyesight and her hearing are still good, but she hunches a lot and she doesn’t have the energy to walk much. She thinks of you and prays for you everyday. She cries sometimes because she misses you and she feels guilty that you didn’t get to see your great-grandchildren, and she did. I’m sure you’re sad about that, but when they grow up, I’m sure Along will tell them what a legend you were in the family.
Opah and I visited your grave today. Poor Opah! She can’t even walk properly, but she still insists on visiting you often. See how much she loves you?
Your grave was a little messy, with bits of leaves around the side. So we cleaned it a little bit. You’re welcome.
Opah planted a little plant in front of your grave, which kind of obstructs the pathway. But she didn’t care, she said. She wants it to keep you shaded from the Sun. Yes, she thinks that little teeny weeny plant can protect you.
I poured water over your grave. I hope you felt the coolness on your body.
Well, Tok, that’s all the update I have for you for now. You take care up there, be good and don’t go scolding your neighbours for no reason. I hope they provide you with hair dye in heaven, because I know how much you hate your hair being grey. You’re so vain, like Dad.
We miss you here, and we’ll do our part to love you and shower you with good doa’s from this realm. Just don’t come to me when I’m sleeping ok, I might faint!
I love you, Tok. And even after all these years, it still hurts not seeing you in the room downstairs.
Love,
Your granddaughter.
Read more about my Tok Dah here.
two half-day fastings make a full one September 11, 2009
Fasting month has passed by really quickly. We’re already Raya-ing next weekend!
And I haven’t lost any weight whatsoever. Stupid Pasar Ramadhan ruining my life.
I started reminiscing about my first years of fasting. In primary school, mom would teach me how to fast, and slowly I got the hang of it. Dry frowning lips, droopy eyes, arms just hanging off my shoulders weakly, stomach making grumpy music.
Sometimes, I manage to fast the whole day. But there were times when I would be very naughty and eat in school where my parents can’t see me.
I would come home, and my mom would ask, “Are you fasting, sweetheart?”
“Yes, of course!” I lied confidently, conveniently forgetting the fried chicken and iced milo I had in school just now. I would give her how-could-you-even-ask-me-that look just to convince her even more.
Then, the whole evening I would be energetic and happy which made Mom curious. She was probably puzzled as to my sudden change from a zombie-like appearance to a happy, not-hungry kid.
Breaking fast is at 7.30pm. Usually, at 6.30pm, my forehead is already on the kitchen table asking God what I did to deserve this hunger. But some days, I’m smiling and even offering others to take the food first.
I wasn’t very smart, was I? The least I could do was pretend to walk around the house clutching my stomach and groaning with hunger.
“Are you really fasting?”
“Yes!”
But God knew better to put my cousin in the same school as me, probably to look after me.
My mom called my cousin and put her on speaker so I could hear.
I was 9 then, but I still remember this painful day until now.
“Malina, did V fast in school today?”
My so-called cousin who didn’t understand the oath of cousin-ness answered, “No, she ate 2 fried chickens and noodle soup just now.”
Traitor.
Not only did she blow my cover, she even kindly described what I ate.
I’m not sure what happened after that, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t talk to Malina for a few days.
But what I did do was….fast properly ever since then.
Now, my mom has no doubt about me fasting fully anymore. Judging from what I bring back from pasar Ramadhan everyday, I am obviously one hungry person.
Except that now, I don’t wait at the table at 6.30pm anymore.
My forehead’s arrival time is now at 6.45pm.
opah's raya shoes September 10, 2009
Since my 88-year-old grandma, Opah has stolen my limelight and has become a celebrity in this blog, I decided it was time for an Opah update.
She wants new shoes for Raya.
Closed-toed, comfortable flats.
First, she asked me to go and find.
Then, she’ll call me back before I go out, and say she wants to follow as well because she wants to choose.
So I wait for her to get ready.
Then, half an hour waiting, she decides she was too tired to go out.
Repeat this process 5000 times in your head.
So, today, I was tough on her. “Opah, just get ready, we’re going shoe shopping now.“
“What?! No, I’m tired…,” then she pauses, “but I do want a new pair of shoes…,” pauses again, “but no, I’m too tired.“
I told her fine.
“I have a headache…” Opah justifies herself, “I might fall down anytime.”
Sigh. Fine, I told her I will go and buy it myself and if she doesn’t like it, too bad.
She pauses to think.
This was the vulnerable point.
As if on cue, my maids wrestled her to put on some nice clothes and her veil, carried her out to put her on the wheelchair.
The whole car ride to Bangsar Village, she was complaining about how she might drop down any minute and how she’s just going to stay in the car. And then she complained that she wanted to go to Bata only, and not some other fancy shoe shop. I told her I wanted her to see other choices, since she already has so many Bata shoes.
A few minutes later, we were in Clarks, the shoe shop.
Look at her so stylo with Prada sunglasses and Harrods clutch! Hahahah
We showed her the selection. She didn’t like any.
We went to Aldo.
It’s not difficult to touch my heart
“What on earth are these odd-looking things?“
“They’re boots, Opah.” I explained and told her to shoosh after that.
As expected, she didn’t like any.
We went to Novo.
She didn’t like any.
We went back to Clarks.
She said she doesn’t mind this one pair of shoes, but I could tell she didn’t like it.
So in the end, we arrived at Bata.
The trouble with Bangsar Bata is that it wasn’t in a mall, so I couldn’t push her wheelchair, and she would have to go up some steps, which I was worried about.
So, we found a parking somewhere near and she stayed in the car.
I ran in and out of Bata to the car, carrying one side of the shoes to show her. The saleswoman was so understanding and was kind enough to let me out of the shop to walk to my car, with unpaid Bata shoes. Dean sacrificed himself as a trade-in; I would leave the shop with unpaid shoes while Dean stays in the shop, and if I didn’t come back to return the shoes, the saleswoman could have Dean. HAHAHA.
People outside were giving me looks. Like, why on earth is she robbing only one side of the shoe?!
So after a few trips, Opah finally found one she liked.
Closed-toed, comfortable flats.
“Yes!!! That’s the one…I love that one!! I want that one!!”
“OK, calm down, you might get a heart attack,” I warned her.
I had to make 3 more trips, panting and sweating in the hot sun, because Opah couldn’t decide on the size.
But in the end, she was so happy, because she got her shoes that she wanted. And I was happy because it didn’t leave such a big dent in my purse. (You wouldn’t believe how cheap Bata shoes are, considering they’re so comfortable.)
So happy, in fact, that I bought her two pairs; one in black and one in white.
I asked her which one she was going to wear first.
“Depends on which outfit I wear, of course.”
“But of course,” we all laughed.
My grandma is so clever!! I wanted to pinch her cheeks, she was so cute.
And it’s so touching that it doesn’t take much to please this woman.
After we got home, she was so tired that she slept right away. She couldn’t decide which one to wear first, so she ended up wearing both!
opah’s raya shoes September 10, 2009
Since my 88-year-old grandma, Opah has stolen my limelight and has become a celebrity in this blog, I decided it was time for an Opah update.
She wants new shoes for Raya.
Closed-toed, comfortable flats.
First, she asked me to go and find.
Then, she’ll call me back before I go out, and say she wants to follow as well because she wants to choose.
So I wait for her to get ready.
Then, half an hour waiting, she decides she was too tired to go out.
Repeat this process 5000 times in your head.
So, today, I was tough on her. “Opah, just get ready, we’re going shoe shopping now.“
“What?! No, I’m tired…,” then she pauses, “but I do want a new pair of shoes…,” pauses again, “but no, I’m too tired.“
I told her fine.
“I have a headache…” Opah justifies herself, “I might fall down anytime.”
Sigh. Fine, I told her I will go and buy it myself and if she doesn’t like it, too bad.
She pauses to think.
This was the vulnerable point.
As if on cue, my maids wrestled her to put on some nice clothes and her veil, carried her out to put her on the wheelchair.
The whole car ride to Bangsar Village, she was complaining about how she might drop down any minute and how she’s just going to stay in the car. And then she complained that she wanted to go to Bata only, and not some other fancy shoe shop. I told her I wanted her to see other choices, since she already has so many Bata shoes.
A few minutes later, we were in Clarks, the shoe shop.
Look at her so stylo with Prada sunglasses and Harrods clutch! Hahahah
We showed her the selection. She didn’t like any.
We went to Aldo.
It’s not difficult to touch my heart
“What on earth are these odd-looking things?“
“They’re boots, Opah.” I explained and told her to shoosh after that.
As expected, she didn’t like any.
We went to Novo.
She didn’t like any.
We went back to Clarks.
She said she doesn’t mind this one pair of shoes, but I could tell she didn’t like it.
So in the end, we arrived at Bata.
The trouble with Bangsar Bata is that it wasn’t in a mall, so I couldn’t push her wheelchair, and she would have to go up some steps, which I was worried about.
So, we found a parking somewhere near and she stayed in the car.
I ran in and out of Bata to the car, carrying one side of the shoes to show her. The saleswoman was so understanding and was kind enough to let me out of the shop to walk to my car, with unpaid Bata shoes. Dean sacrificed himself as a trade-in; I would leave the shop with unpaid shoes while Dean stays in the shop, and if I didn’t come back to return the shoes, the saleswoman could have Dean. HAHAHA.
People outside were giving me looks. Like, why on earth is she robbing only one side of the shoe?!
So after a few trips, Opah finally found one she liked.
Closed-toed, comfortable flats.
“Yes!!! That’s the one…I love that one!! I want that one!!”
“OK, calm down, you might get a heart attack,” I warned her.
I had to make 3 more trips, panting and sweating in the hot sun, because Opah couldn’t decide on the size.
But in the end, she was so happy, because she got her shoes that she wanted. And I was happy because it didn’t leave such a big dent in my purse. (You wouldn’t believe how cheap Bata shoes are, considering they’re so comfortable.)
So happy, in fact, that I bought her two pairs; one in black and one in white.
I asked her which one she was going to wear first.
“Depends on which outfit I wear, of course.”
“But of course,” we all laughed.
My grandma is so clever!! I wanted to pinch her cheeks, she was so cute.
And it’s so touching that it doesn’t take much to please this woman.
After we got home, she was so tired that she slept right away. She couldn’t decide which one to wear first, so she ended up wearing both!
weekend batteries needed September 9, 2009
Weekdays pass by really quickly in my world. I’m occupied with work that I don’t really think about anything else (except maybe my blog heee).
But then weekend comes and knocks on my door, and that’s when I realise that my life is different now.
I’m not a student anymore!!
Sometimes when Sunday comes, I feel so guilty that I haven’t done any work or read any law articles. And then memory floods back to tell me that those days have gone.
In uni, my weekends pretty much plan themselves out. Reading, spontaneous lunch and dinner with friends, the occasional movie dates, walks in the park with a law book to lay my bum on, scrubbing the toilet floor, laundry, ironing, going to the dry-cleaners to fix a white top that has gone pink. Then, Sunday night comes and I’ll curse myself for not starting my essay earlier when I have to pass it up in a few hours.
Now, I can do anything I want during the weekends…which feels totally weird.
- Some of my best friends have gone back to UK/Aussie/wherever else for their studies
- My sister’s married and has her own family to spend time with
- It’s fasting month so I can’t arrange lunch with friends
- I don’t do housework anymore because I have my lovely Kakaks.
- I can’t be bothered to go out after 5 days of working
Because of these reasons, my weekends are pretty much me-time. I spend time with family, especially my grandma, and the rest is pretty much free time. It’s a funny feeling not having any task to complete or a deadline to meet, I’m feeling guilty for no reason!!
Last weekend, I pampered myself. I went for a massage and facial at Phillip Wain.
It was awesome, of course. Phillip Wain is super professional, and it being an exclusive all-female club makes it more attractive for me. I’m planning to join the gym there, but seeing that the gym membership alone is rm3000 a year, I have to prioritise my needs. After all, I kinda need money for food. You know, to survive and all…
We’ll see. When I’m ready to part with 3K (a quarter of a Chanel bag…hmm opportunity cost) for a membership that I’m probably going to use once a month (or none a month), then I’ll join it.
I also went threading and waxing and basically groomed myself from head to toe.
So, last weekend was fun and relaxing. But let’s face it, I can’t do that every single week.
I need to plan something productive to do every weekend, because this ultra-relaxed environment isn’t good for my brain.
Right now, I’ve been getting some scrap-page orders and that has been filling up my weekends. Other than that, I’ve been indulging in books, writing articles, catching up with friends via Facebook and Skype, and the visits to Pasar Ramadhan with Dean to befriend yummy Malaysian food.
My friends have been complaining that I haven’t seen them, but with the whole Ramadhan and H1N1 going on, I’d rather not spend too much time outside. I’d also love to go shopping, but I’m not speaking to my credit cards at the moment because they rudely declined me last week. The nerve!
I actually really really miss cooking. I haven’t cooked since I got back, and I should probably do so before I forget how to chop onions.
There are actually so many things to do, classes to take, places to see.
But now, somehow I feel like I have to take more effort to do so, because I can get carried away with work and soon become a workaholic with no friends.
I want a healthy lifestyle; happy at work, happy with family, happy with friends, happy in love and yet still not neglecting some alone me-time. Doing something productive everyday and ultimately living life to the fullest.
I know I should make more effort to socialise and balance my life, and I will.
It’s just that now I have to find energy to drag my limbs out of the house.
O Energy…wherefore art thou, energy?
Poll 27: the caning issue September 8, 2009
Results:
Other answers included:
| no religion should forbid anybody to anyting, they have a choice | 1 |
|---|---|
| leave it to god to punish her | 1 |
| Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. SO A BIG NO FROM ME. | 1 |
| no country’s law should be based on religion, let alone should someone be punise | 1 |
| Yes, but if Kartika gets caned, every other Muslim who drinks should be caned | 1 |
| in this case, she wants to be caned. it should be a personal choice. | 1 |
________________________________________________________________________________________
It’s really difficult to make segregated laws for different religions in one community. Issues on unfairness and differences will arise, influencing people’s minds. One day you will believe in a law, the next you will be swayed in the other direction after someone points out a flaw. And vice versa.
Having read law in uni, I can tell you this much; no law is perfect, there will be objections and soon after will be amended to include exceptions.
Everybody knows the news of Kartika getting caned because she was found drinking alcohol in a hotel in Pahang.
Some support it “in the name of Islam” and some condemn it in the name of “human rights.”
The supporters usually go for the following arguments:
- stated in quran that drinking is forbidden. The situation in our country is such that drinking is done so openly and some Muslims admit they drink with pride. It’s getting out of hand, and we need a heavy punishment to stop Muslims from drinking.
- Even if the drinker repents, punishment still has to be done for deterrence purposes
- Caning in Islamic law doesn’t mean the same as caning in civil law (it’s less harsh?)
- Caning is stated in the hadith, a supplement to the Quran. So it is not a man-made law.
The opposers say this:
- breaches her human rights to be protected from degrading treatment
- there are other sins much worse than drinking alcohol
- Why only her?
- Are they kidding themselves? If they want to catch people drinking, the first place that should come to mind is to raid nightclubs.
- Quran doesn’t state form of punishment, it just states that drinking alcohol is wrong (but hadith states caning)
- Laws should be revised according to our times
- Is it our place as human beings to punish other human beings? Shouldn’t that be up to God?
I’m a Muslim and I know that our guidance in life is the Quran. As Muslims, we should try to emulate the ideal Muslim portrayed in the Quran, and should respect God’s wishes.
But faith, to me, is personal. Some people take time to accept things, some people take a little bit longer to realise and repent. We are all human beings, who commit sins every single day. We make mistakes and if God can be forgiving, why can’t the law implementers be too? Are they that prophet-like that they don’t make other types of sins? It’s just really superficial to be caned by a group of people who themselves have committed sins in their lifetimes.
You want to cane a person to make sure she realises her mistakes and not repeat it.
Do you really think by humiliating her in the eyes of the world, by submitting Islam to the ridicule of many, by creating anger in the hearts of people around the world, you will achieve a better image of Islam? Do you really think she will stop drinking because she got caned? To the contrary, perhaps.
Islam isn’t about physical torture, Islam isn’t harsh.
I really don’t want to question Islamic law, and what God has set out for us. If God says cane, then I guess we must cane. But sometimes, it’s healthy for us to debate, exercise our brains and get some answers.
Maybe it can deter people from drinking because they’re scared to be caned, but we don’t want Muslims who follow blindly instructions without understanding the story behind it. If Muslims don’t drink because of fear of getting caned (and not because they really believe that drinking does a lot of harm), is that really something to be proud of in Islam?
Is that really the kind of Muslims we want to create?
Scared Muslims?
In other words, chickens?
I am aware that the drinking situation among young Muslims, especially, is getting out of hand. Some love to flaunt big wine bottles and admit to drinking with pride, with the “I got so wasted last night, maaannnn…” statements. I understand that it is wrong and as Muslims, we should not let this happen.
But I also think that by caning blindly, we won’t get anywhere. There is no point caning someone who just doesn’t see the justification of the rule, and is probably going to do it again. So the only way to soften the blow is by a softer touch; therapy, counseling, education. And also, to pick on one person is just unfair and can raise discriminatory issues. If you want to cane, cane all, not just one isolated female.
This is of course my 2 cents worth; some of you may agree, some might not. Nevertheless, I’d love to know where you stand on this.
SO, POLL 27: Is it right to cane Kartika for drinking, when it’s clearly stated in the Quran that drinking is forbidden in Islam? —-> Happy voting!
