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With improvements made to the existing standard operating procedures (SOPs), the ministry said it had no objections to students wanting to return home.

“We take note of parents’ questions on this matter,” it said in a statement Thursday (July 9).

The ministry also said boarding school students for Form Four and Form Six semester 1 would be returning to their schools on July 15.

The two groups of students were being prioritised to give them sufficient time to prepare for their upcoming examinations in 2021, the ministry said.

Meanwhile, Forms One to Three boarding school students will return to their schools on Aug 3.

Until then, the students will continue home-based learning.

“This decision applies to boarding schools, religious secondary schools, government-assisted religious schools, Sekolah Sukan Malaysia, Sekolah Sukan Negeri and Sekolah Seni Malaysia.

“The ministry takes all views into consideration to ensure all boarding school students can study in their schools in a safe environment,” it added.

This year’s celebration is without the usual noise and activity. It is also a lesson to never take things for granted.

NORMALLY, these corridors would permit young relatives to run, jump, chase each other or play hide and seek. Occasionally they wonder about the portraits on the walls and the trinkets in crammed cabinets: memorabilia of ancestors who once played in the same hallways. This year, the planks stayed uncreaked, sweat-free.

Normally, this sitting room would be a hive of activity, as parents strain to hear the TV over the din of young adults playing board games, teenagers on mobile devices and kids comparing duit raya. The only punctuation is provided by the arrival of another family or the inevitable emergence of more food.

This year, the cushions sat perfectly fluffed, and no more Es disappeared from the Scrabble set.

Normally, this lobby would see a full assembly of staff, ready to receive gifts of appreciation and exchange Raya greetings.

Some have worked in the same institution for decades, and the interactions provide assurance and recognition. This year, representatives of each team were able to receive gifts on colleagues’ behalf in a pared-down, socially distanced ceremony.

Normally, this moonless night sky would be set alight by the pops and whistles of fireworks, reverberating across the valley in a syncopated fashion.

They follow the ceremonial booms of the cannon, a juxtaposed echo of artillery flushing out communists from nearby hills during the Emergency. This year… well, there were still impressive displays of pyrotechnics dotted across the area. We still haven’t worked out how so many people got hold of some rather grand fireworks.

Normally, this rural mosque would be unable to fit the congregation of newly returned urbanites eager to fulfil their Aidilfitri prayers.

Spilling onto the verandah, the rows of prayer mats provide a visualisation of the balik kampung that has overtaken merantau (migration) as the primary mover of our people.

This year, 12 of us prayed a metre apart (“jangan rapatkan saf”, I quipped, modifying the usual reminder for worshippers to stand close in formation), as kittens freely rolled around on the expanse of carpet behind.

Normally, this graveyard would be full of poignant colour, as families bedecked in new baju remember their departed with flowers.

With young children in tow, adults educate the next generation about how they are related to people who rest under tombstones. This year, these graves sat tranquilly, though caretakers tended the site still with utmost respect.

Normally, the perimeter of this field would resemble a thriving food market, as lemang grillers, rendang chefs, satay fanners, roast lamb carvers, cendol crushers and apam balik wizards purvey their foods.

The epitome of small businesses, they have prepared for this day for weeks, sourcing ingredients, electrifying supply chains, generating employment and powering the halal economy. This year, they did their best to adjust, offering take-aways and deliveries, but presumably more lamb than usual are still bleating (since their consumption requires volume).

Normally, the centre of this field would be covered by a massive tent, ready for 10,000 people to visit from near and far to fill their post-Ramadan tummies. They arrive with their families, but reconnect with their neighbours, acquaint with suku mates, make new friends and maybe get duit raya from me. This year, the grass was grateful to be undisturbed.

Normally, this mobile phone would be buzzing incessantly from a torrent of messages conveying peace and blessings, hope and forgiveness. From thoughtful mini-essays to creatively choreographed videos from family groups, finding the time to meaningfully reply to each is always a challenge. This year, the same has remained true.

Normally, this calendar would be full of upcoming open houses. Behind the scenes, schedules and intentions are exchanged between networks of PAs and secretaries to ensure that the biggest ones do not clash with one another, while wheelers and dealers plan who to ambush at targeted events to seal a deal, secure a contract, put a good word in for someone, pass a CV or a letter of recommendation. This year, the calendar is empty.

Normally, I would take for granted that all the above would happen, and that all the above would happen again next year. This year, I am grateful for the lesson of not taking that normality for granted, but aware too that many do not have this luxury, for their lives have suffered immensely and they need public policy solutions.

Normally, I would say that public policy solutions should address the needs of the people in a responsive yet democratic manner. This year, with parliamentary scrutiny at an abnormal low, and questions over the positions and appointments of many politicians at an abnormal high, more abnormalities may be exploited for abnormal reasons.

Eh, that one is normal lah.

Selamat Hari Raya, Maaf Zahir Batin.

By Tunku Zain Al-Abidin.

Read more @ https://www.thestar.com.my/opinion/columnists/abidinideas/2020/05/29/raya-abnormalities

WITH the Covid-19 pandemic casting a shadow on social activities, many Muslim students had to observe Ramadan and celebrate Syawal in a distinctly different atmosphere.

Malaysian students abroad, and international students in Malaysia, not only took the challenges in stride, but also remained hopeful and shared their experience with Higher Ed in making the festive season meaningful.

Worried that he might get infected, Ahmad Shazwan Abdul Hamid, 21, a chemical engineering student minoring in studio art photography at the University of Wisconsin-Madison in the United States, decided not to fly home.

With no gatherings planned, this year’s Ramadan was an entirely new experience for him.

“I was not able to break my fast with friends or go to our local Islamic Centre. But my cooking improved after preparing iftar with my housemates everyday.”

While the lack of human interaction might be psychologically isolating for Shazwan, it also allowed him room for self-reflection and small accomplishments.

“I miss everyone back at home. Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri from my friends and I! Looking forward to our Aidilfitri celebration here in the US next year!” -Ahmad Shazwan Abdul Hamid, University of Wisconsin-Madison, the United States.

“I feel de-motivated sometimes because I am so used to going out every day for classes and work.

“I need to constantly remind myself that it is okay to not always be productive during this global pandemic. I set small goals, such as waking up early, finishing my homework quickly, or editing travel photos to keep my motivation up.”

Shazwan longed for the big iftar and lively Raya celebrations with his family.

“My cousins and I would usually gather to help my mother and the aunts make ketupat and rendang. I definitely miss the sambal sotong and my aunt’s raya cookies, such as semperit and tarts.

“This year, I celebrated Raya with my housemates at home. It’s a sad but necessary step in this pandemic.”

Pursuing a bachelor of communications in public relations at the University of Queensland, Australia, Atiqah Mat Senin, 22, was advised by her sponsor, Mara, to remain abroad.

“With the borders closed, we’re worried about not being able to enter the country for the upcoming semester if we returned home.

“Despite the cold weather in Brisbane, I wish my family members

“We were told that in previous years, an iftar gathering and tarawih were held at our university’s multifaith chaplaincy. This year, we prayed at home and with classes being moved online, we had more time to prepare for iftar.”

Atiqah was touched by her lecturers and tutors’ efforts to regularly email students and ask how they were coping in the pandemic.

“Oftentimes, we tend to feel like we’re struggling alone, so it is crucial to stay connected. I now spend more time cooking, baking and watching movies with my housemates. I believe that physical distancing does not mean social disconnection.”

While it’s sad to spend the festive season away from home, she considered herself lucky to have friends whom she called her “Brisbane family”.

“We had a menu prepared for Raya, namely rendang and lodeh. I asked the recipes from my mother via video call as she is an amazing cook.”

Born and raised in Kuala Terengganu, University College Cork medical student Nur Afrina Nadia Abd Razak, 22, recently completed her final exams online in Ramadan.

“Selamat Hari Raya to everyone, especially my family in Selangor and Terengganu. It’s my first time celebrating Aidilfitri abroad without my family, but I am not alone, and I am excited to experience this! So to mum and dad, don’t worry too much.”- Nur Afrina Nadia Abd Razak, University College Cork, Ireland

“I had to take an objective structured clinical examination (OSCE) exam, requiring me to examine patients and take their history. Instead of performing the actions, I had to type out my actions, which was a new experience to me.”

Nur Afrina also decided to spend her second Ramadan abroad to avoid any disruption to her studies.

However, the inability to go out and have iftar with her friends had left her feeling isolated.

“The Muslim community is small here in Cork, so it is a bit lonely having iftar all by myself. My two Malaysian housemates have gone home, so I’m only here with my Italian housemate. She’s very nice and would sometimes have dinner with me. This pandemic has brought us closer.”

During this difficult time, she came to appreciate the little things in life.

“As life takes a pause, we can now focus on personal growth. I used to complain about having to walk to class every morning and walk home very late at night, but I really miss it now.”

A family tradition that Nur Afrina loves is the weekly iftar at her grandmother’s place with more than 30 cousins.

“Despite that, I am actually excited for Raya because it is my first time celebrating it overseas. I planned to get my Italian housemate to wear a baju kurung and celebrate the day with me.”

Muhamad Zul Amin Zulkipli, 21, is pursuing actuarial science, applied statistics and mathematical economics at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana, the US

Hailing from Kota Baru, Kelantan, the Petronas scholar who remained abroad for summer classes initially struggled with campus closures.

“West Lafayette is a college town and now that everyone is off campus, I feel like I’m living in a ghost town. There are over 24,000 Covid-19 cases in Indiana now.”

With his three housemates, Zul Amin spent Ramadan trying out traditional kuih recipes to fulfill their cravings.

“So far, I have made akok, kuih cara, bingka, keria, and cek mek molek and shared them with other Malaysian students nearby. It is fascinating to see how exchanging food for iftar has become a new way to connect with each other.”

He would contact his family in Kota Baru every day, sharing pictures of his iftar dishes with his parents and siblings.

“Even though I wanted to experience raya perantauan, I still feel sad and miss my family. But, this is an opportunity to reflect, count my blessings, and to not take the chance of spending raya with my family for granted.”

By Rayyan Rafidi.

Read more @ https://www.nst.com.my/education/2020/05/595637/raya-never