This is a past-year prelim question.


The P6 students did a story on “A Proud Moment” last week. This is a past-year prelim question. The three pictures: bald boys, football, a good job badge. (For the uninitiated, you need to use at least one picture in no particular order.)

This is a hard topic with many students going out of point. It isn’t that they are weak in the language, but they failed to highlight the proud moment and explain why it makes them proud.

I have emphasised to my students (especially those stronger in English) not to emulate those model composition books sold at Popular. Why? They are cold, usually without character development and smell like a child writing a story.

Huh? But a primary school is a child, you may ask.

Indeed, but cookie cutter-type flowery language and story template can only get you so far. If you show character development and insights into the mind of the protagonist, thereby touching the reader, it is a more enticing read.

I am sharing Adelle’s story today because it stood out among the other essays. It has:

✔ character development/strong character

✔ logical storyline

✔ maturity

✔ reasonable timeline

✔ captivates the reader

✔ literary devices such as circular structure employed

These are just a few strengths of the story. Read on and you will understand what I mean.

Thank you, Adelle, for the fabulous composition.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

“Down to the final ten seconds! Will he make it? He kicks the ball and ….!” One chance to make my brother proud. Would I…

My older brother Luka was my best friend, my role model and my pillar. Alas, he passed away last year due to a sudden seizure. When he left, I collapsed, leaving everything behind, ignoring those around me, keeping myself in solitude, staying melancholic all day. Was I really not able to face the world again?

It was that fateful day when I walked past the posters hung all over the school walls. The 10th annual football competition 2019. Ah, football, those memories. I fell in love with football because of him. Luka was the brother who taught me to tackle, do a bicycle kick and… the reminiscence was just too agonizing. Luka was the football star in school with all the medals and trophies- I had badly wanted to emulate him. “Do me proud,” Luka would always say to me, being the encouraging brother he was. Perhaps. Just perhaps, I should join the school team to win this for the school, for Luka.

“Can I get on the team?” I probed coach Wally, not knowing what possessed me that day to approach him. Coach Wally took a perfunctory glance at me, and uttered, “Only if you are as good as Luka.”

The journey was not easy. I had to dig hard beneath me to find the life and passion in me. The passion to make myself alive again. Day in, day out, I practised relentlessly to prove my worth. After a tormenting two months, I was accepted into the team.

“One – one. It is a tie! The commentator announced the obvious over the PA system, only making the tense match more nerve wrecking. One more minute to the end of the game. I desperately wanted to win. No, that’s an understatement. I wanted to more than win. I wanted to do Luka proud. I knew somewhere up there above, Luka was watching me and cheering for me. Then a gust of wind blew towards me, suddenly waking me up. It’s now or never. A wave of new determination spiraled through my body. I stole the ball from the opponent, kicking it towards the goal post. It was the last three seconds.

Time seemed to have frozen in eternity then. I watched, hands clenched in front of face as the heart-stopping moment relished in its torment on me.

“He kicks and he scores!”

I won.

I had won.

Tears glistened in my eyes, shimmering like diamonds as the morning sun swept over us, giving me the warm embrace I sorely needed. I had won. The elation, jubilation, exultation were new to me. I had never felt happier, knowing I had won not only for my team, but also for my brother.

I knew wherever Luka was, he would be smiling at me, giving me the thumbs up, delighted at my achievement. I would never forget this proud moment.

Never.