The Story of L

There are few people I truly respect but of the few, only one can truly be called a friend. L shall be his name.

L belongs to the side of Singapore society that gets less attention than is afforded. Less fortunate, broken home, whatever you may call it, growing up for him was not of the comfort that Singapore's affluence was supposed to accord to its citizens. His dad was regularly in and out of jail, mum stricken by breast cancer and a sister, well, the less said about her the better.

So it was almost a cliche that he should be posted to a neighbourhood secondary school and mix with bad company. With no "proper" upbringing by societal standards and hardly any role models, would you really have blamed him for walking on the wrong side of the road?

A few skirmishes with the law showed him the rougher side of life, a side he never ever wanted to revisit. So as the story goes, he got his head down and tried to make things right. He did pretty well to sit for O Levels and promptly did just enough to secure a place in a junior college.

But as A Levels showed people like me and him, there really is no substitute for consistency and his grades were, for lack of a better word, abject. He soldiered on, of course, taking things as they came.

Onto military service, I met him in unit life. In an environment where politics and bullshit are ever-present, people who worked with him recognised L for the results he produced and not all the bullshit and showmanship others would rely on. His style of leadership never strayed from his down-to-earth roots and it showed in his camaraderie with his platoon.

Once out of military service, he strived to support himself in university. Taking on jobs that came his way, there were never really any boundaries he dare not cross. Insurance, finance, tourism, tuition, education etc, he could only depend on himself. The father had finally managed to stay out of jail, by displaying the usual cliched traits of hanging out with bookies and whatnot. His sister got knocked up, shot-gun marriage, divorced within two years.

Left with a newborn daughter, she moved back in with L and the father. The mom, living with relatives, took up cleaning jobs that she could still cope with, her condition neither improving nor deteriorating.

And so, out of his sister, father and him, only he was doing something. Only he is supporting everyone else. A father who never lifts a finger, apart from when he smokes, and a sister who insists she will get a job and look after her daughter despite never doing so.

He found his way around, coping with his situation. Any financial aid in any form would be an option to him. And each time I met up with him, I respected him more and more as a friend, and as a person.

And then disaster. It was with shock that I found out he was hospitalised last week due to lupus. It couldn't have happened to a more decent and resilient person. And the saddest bit about it is the fact that lupus still cannot be cured. While the symptoms may still be treated, it requires long-term medication and treatment, which indicates long-term financial requirement. Let's face it, he may have saved up a bit but frankly he shouldn't have had to deal with this.

Chatting with him, he seemed more concerned about the side effects of him going bald and getting fat rather than anything else.

They say that life is unfair, and to me, this pretty much epitomises it. It couldn't have happened to a more undeserving person. But I know that while this setback may bring about drastic changes in his lifestyle, he won't give up and won't give in, because he still has a lot to live for, and a lot more to accomplish in this life.