Ping!

A new email appeared on Megat’s phone.

From the Ministry of Education—more specifically, the State Education Department.

Megat lowered his coffee slightly and read the title aloud.

English Month for All Schools in Sabah – April 2026

CC:
PPDKB, PPDT, PPDKM…

And eventually forwarded to all school principals across Sabah.

Below the chain of official addresses sat his own:

Megat.zn@moe.edu.gov

Megat stared at the screen for a few seconds longer.

Then slowly leaned back in his chair.

“…Well,” he muttered.

“Someone is about to turn the entire state into an English activity camp.”

At the same time, Faizal received the same email as the Head of the English Panel.

The moment he read the title, he already knew.

April was survival month.

Faizal slowly leaned back in his chair.

A dangerous grin appeared on his face.

“Oh,” he murmured dramatically. “We are turning this school into Stateside.”

Nearby, Nazha was halfway through marking her students’ essays when she noticed the expression.

That face never meant peace.

Faizal approached her with his tablet in hand.

“Hey, Nazha,” he said cheerfully. “It is adventure time.”

He showed her the email.

Nazha’s eyes widened almost immediately.

For a few seconds, she stared silently at the screen.

Then at Faizal.

Then back at the screen again.

“…English Month for the entire state?”

Faizal nodded proudly like he personally founded the language.

“We are about to become academically bilingual against everyone’s will.”

Faizal immediately slipped into mentor mode.

“You know we have HIP, right?”

Nazha slowly lowered the tablet.

“HIGHLY Immense Problems?” she guessed flatly.

Faizal stared at her.

“Highly Immersive Programme.”

“Oh.”

A pause.

“…Still sounds stressful.”

Faizal pointed at her dramatically.

“This,” he declared, “is our chance to make English feel alive in school.”

Nazha folded her arms.

“You say that like we are launching a Broadway production.”

Faizal grinned proudly.

“Exactly.”

Nazha glanced at the time and froze.

“Oh shoot, I’m almost late for 2 Ukhuwah.”

Without waiting for another comment, she grabbed her teaching kit, stuffed her notes in, and hurried out of Bilik Sahsiah.

Her footsteps echoed down the corridor as she moved with purpose—half teacher, half storm.

Faizal watched her disappear down the hallway.

Then shook his head slowly, a small chuckle escaping him.

“…That woman treats lesson plans like emergency missions,” he muttered to himself.

Still smiling, he turned back to his desk, already mentally preparing for whatever “structured chaos” she would create next.

Knock, knock.

Faizal didn’t look up immediately. He assumed it was a student needing paperwork or permission slips.

“Come in,” he called lazily.

The door opened.

But instead of a student—

It was Megat.

Faizal straightened slightly, surprised.

“Sir, what a rare sighting,” he greeted with a grin.

Megat stepped inside calmly, hands in his pockets.

“I’m here about the English Month programme,” he said.

Faizal nodded, already shifting into work mode. “Ah, HIP planning. I was just thinking about how to structure school-wide activities—speaking corners, classroom challenges, maybe even a mini showcase week.”

He leaned forward, clearly in his element.

“We’ll need something engaging enough to sustain participation, not just one-off events.”

Megat listened quietly.

But his eyes weren’t fully on Faizal’s plan.

They were calculating.

Because officially, he was here for English Month coordination.

But privately—

He had another objective.

To observe Nazha’s teaching ecosystem.

And somewhere between classroom chaos and structured pedagogy—

to see if the “Izhan” he once glimpsed was still there.

Back at 2 Ukhuwah, the atmosphere was slightly more relaxed than usual.

Nazha had set up a speaking lesson for the day.

On the screen, images of Malaysian landmarks appeared one by one—Petronas Twin Towers, Langkawi Sky Bridge, and other iconic destinations tied to the upcoming Visit Malaysia 2026 campaign.

The objective was simple:

speaking practice through a real-world context.

Nazha began the lesson with a prompt.

“Has anyone been to these places before?”

Sasha stood up first.

Her answer came out hesitantly—half BM, half English, switching mid-sentence as she tried to build her thoughts in real time.

Nazha frowned slightly.

Not because the answer was wrong.

But because of the language instability—the switching, the inconsistency, the lack of sustained English flow.

Something to refine.

Then Noel took over the next slide.

This time, his voice was steadier.

He answered in English.

Not perfect.

But controlled.

Pronunciation errors still existed—minor slips, softened endings—but they no longer broke his flow.

He kept going.

Without stopping himself mid-sentence.

And for Nazha, that mattered more than perfection.

Nazha shifted the slide.

“Now,” she said calmly, “describe your favourite place.”

A few students looked around before attempting answers. The room filled with mixed responses—some confident, some fragmented.

She didn’t interrupt.

Instead, she rephrased gently when needed.

“Try to add why you like it,” she prompted. “Use simple English. Don’t worry about perfect grammar.”

Slowly, the class began to adjust. More English started to surface, even if imperfect.

Sasha spoke again, but halfway through her sentence, she slipped back into BM out of habit.

Nazha nodded once—no anger, no correction in front of the class.

“Good attempt,” she said softly. “Try again, but stay in English this time.”

Sasha paused. Nodded.

And tried again.

Better.

Not perfect—but more controlled.

As the lesson ended, Nazha dismissed the class.

“Sasha,” she called gently.

Sasha turned.

“Can you meet me for a moment after this?”

The class left quietly, while Nazha noted something briefly in her plan—already thinking about the next step in language consistency.

Sasha walked into Bilik Sahsiah quietly.

It was empty—Faizal had probably left for class or a meeting with the admins. The room felt unusually calm with its warm, welcoming atmosphere.

Nazha gestured gently to the chair opposite her.

“Hi, Sasha. Have a seat.”

Sasha sat down, still unsure why she had been called.

Nazha didn’t begin with correction.

She began with observation.

“You know,” Nazha said softly, “I noticed something about you during class.”

Sasha looked up.

“You’re actually very helpful. When Rachel was struggling during the orienteering activity, you didn’t leave her alone—you guided her without making her feel small.”

A small pause.

“That’s a strong trait. Not everyone has that.”

Sasha shifted slightly, slightly more relaxed now.

Nazha then leaned forward slightly.

“But I also noticed something else.”

Her tone stayed calm.

“In class, you sometimes switch to BM even when you clearly know the English words.”

Sasha stayed quiet.

Nazha didn’t pressure her.

Instead, she asked gently:

“Can I ask you something?”

Sasha nodded.

“What language do you usually use at home?”

Sasha hesitated for a moment.

“BM… mostly,” she answered.

Nazha nodded slowly, as if connecting pieces.

“I see.”

A short silence followed—not uncomfortable, just reflective.

Nazha continued carefully.

“Sometimes students who are very expressive like you…They understand English, but they don’t fully ‘activate’ it in school because they’re afraid it sounds unnatural.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“Or they feel people will judge how they speak if they stay in English too long.”

“Do you ever feel like that?”

Sasha didn’t answer immediately.

But her silence said enough.

Nazha softened her voice.

“It’s okay if that’s the case. I’m not asking you to be perfect in English.”

She tapped the table lightly.

“I just want to understand why you switched. Because if I understand it, I can help you better.”

Sasha finally spoke, quieter this time.

“…I think I’m faster in BM when I explain things. In English… I feel like I might say it wrong.”

Nazha nodded once.

So that was it.

Not refusal.

But self-monitoring pressure—Sasha was over-editing herself mid-speech.

Nazha gave a small, reassuring smile.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Then she added gently:

“We’re going to work on that. Not by stopping BM completely… but by helping your English feel as natural as your BM when you speak.”

Sasha looked up slightly.

For the first time in the conversation, she didn’t look guarded.

Just heard.

An hour later, Faizal returned to Bilik Sahsiah.

Sasha had already left.

Her steps were lighter. Her expression was calmer.

Faizal noticed it immediately.

He leaned on the doorway, HIP file tucked under his arm.

“Did you just conduct a therapy session?” he teased.

Nazha looked up from her notes, still marking student responses.

“I prefer learning intervention,” she replied flatly.

Faizal chuckled.

“There you go again.”

He stepped in properly now, glancing at her paperwork.

“So… what quirky plan do you have this time?”

Nazha’s eyes lit up.

Then she suddenly slammed her palms lightly on the table.

“The Tour Guiding Class.”

Faizal blinked.

“…Tour what?”

Nazha stood, already shifting into briefing mode.

“This week, I will brief 2 Ukhuwah. They will prepare speaking scripts—favourite places, landmarks, simple descriptions.”

She tapped her pen once.

“No BM switching. Minimal script. Maximum speaking.”

Faizal tilted his head.

“And next week?”

Nazha smiled.

“We launch it in assembly.”

Faizal slowly straightened.

“Assembly?”

“Yes.”

She pointed slightly, as if already seeing it.

“English Month starts there. Whole school participation. Live tour guiding showcase.”

A pause.

Faizal exhaled.

“…You are really turning HIP into a performance system.”

Nazha shrugged.

“It’s immersion.”

Faizal shook his head, smiling despite himself.

“Stateside continues, I guess.”

Nazha already packed her files.

“Brief this week. Build next week. No surprises.”

She walked past him, then exited at the door.

Back at 2 Ukhuwah, Nazha stood in front of the class with her laptop connected to the projector.

“The task for this week is simple,” she began. “Tour Guiding Class.”

A few students immediately leaned forward.

Others… slowly sank into their seats.

She continued anyway.

“You will describe places in our school. You will guide like a tourist guide. English only.”

A low murmur spread across the room.

Half the class looked excited.

Half looked personally attacked.

Nazha clapped once.

“This is not about perfect English. This is about using English.”

The room quietened slightly.

“Next week, we will present during the English Month launch at assembly.”

That got a reaction.

Louder this time.

After class ended, Nazha headed straight to Megat's room.

Megat was already there, going through paperwork at his usual calm pace.

He glanced up as she entered.

“Tour guides, huh?” he said, reading her documents. “Coincidentally, a group of students from SMK Deasoka will be visiting our school.”

Nazha paused mid-step.

Then her expression shifted instantly.

“That is divine timing, sir.”

Megat raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Or very convenient planning.”

Nazha smiled, already imagining the lesson unfolding in real time.

“Even better,” she said softly. “Real audience.”

Megat finished reviewing her paperwork with a final tap of his pen.

He endorsed it.

“Our visitors will stay at the school hostel for three days,” he said calmly. “Probably an optimum opportunity for your students to improve their speaking skills.”

Nazha listened carefully.

Megat continued, still in his steady administrative tone.

“Don’t worry if they want to visit places outside school. The HEM Unit has already arranged transportation for both groups.”

“You can come along too.”

Nazha blinked once.

That last line wasn’t in the usual procedure.

Megat tilted his head, studying her expression more directly now.

“…You are assessing them in a non-orthodox way,” he said.

Then, almost like a quick acknowledgement rather than criticism:

“That is creative.”

Nazha straightened slightly, holding her folder closer.

Not surprised.

Just focused.

“Sometimes,” she said softly, “students don’t improve in controlled environments.”

Megat didn’t respond immediately.

He just looked at her—like he was confirming something he already suspected.

Then he nodded once.

“Let’s see how far your method goes.”

Monday arrived with the usual assembly buzz.

Nazha stepped forward first, introducing the Tour Guide Programme from 2 Ukhuwah as part of her HIP initiative. A few students exchanged excited glances, while others immediately looked concerned.

She kept it brief, confident, and direct.

Then Megat took over the stage.

“Starting today, English Month is officially launched. All students and staff are encouraged to communicate in English for one month.”

A ripple of reactions spread across the hall.

At the teachers’ row, Nazha and Faizal exchanged a quick look.

Then, almost in sync—

“YES, YES.”

Both fist-pumped quietly but enthusiastically.

Syarah, seated just in front of them, turned slightly and raised an eyebrow.

“…They’re really in sync,” she muttered under her breath, half amused, half impressed.

By 9:00 a.m., the convoy from SMK Deasoka arrived at SM Putra.

Students from 2 Ukhuwah were already at their assigned stations under Nazha’s Tour Guide Programme.

Sasha straightened herself as the bus doors opened.

A group of visiting students stepped out, followed by their supervising teacher.

Megat was already there, greeting the teacher formally.

Nazha stood slightly behind, observing quietly.

“Welcome to SM Putra,” Nazha said briefly to the group. “Our students will be your guides today.”

She gestured to them.

“This is part of our English Month programme.”

A girl from SMK Deasoka stepped forward.

“Hi, I’m Anna, the group leader. Can you tell me about your school?”

For a brief second, Sasha paused.

Not because she didn’t know.

But because her mind automatically prepared BM.

Then she stopped herself.

Sasha inhaled softly.

And spoke.

“In SM Putra, we have many active programmes for students… especially English Month.”

She continued, looking directly at Anna now.

“Our school focuses on communication-based learning,” Sasha continued steadily. “We don’t just study English in class—we use it through activities like the Coconut Orienteering, MasterChef-style challenges, and even Masked Singer speaking performances, where students learn to express ideas through real interaction.”

Then she added—

“Right now, we are doing a Tour Guide Class for English Month.”

Anna nodded, listening attentively. 

Sasha didn’t switch languages and continued speaking.

From a distance, Nazha watched silently.

No intervention required.

And for Sasha, she ushered the group to move deeper into the school, unaware that another guide was already preparing to show a completely different way of understanding the same place.