"Nuts" she laments to herself. She still had to wait whether she liked it or not. The waiting room was quiet, punctuated by soft conversations and the occasional nervous cough. Around her, the other interviewees shifted in their seats, checked their watches, looked down at their application forms for the twentieth time. She recognised a few faces. Assistant Nurses like her. Some from her own hospital, others from wards she’d only passed through during attachments.
One of them a senior Assistant Nurse she once worked with during her PAN days in CSSD caught her eye and gave her a warm smile. They’d bonded easily back then, slipping into a rhythm between sterilisation trays and surgical instruments. She was surprised to see her here today, and comforted too.
Familiar faces helped ease the tension, even if only a little. Still, the stress of waiting pressed down on her like an invisible weight. She’d waited many times before. Waited for patients to finish their meals. Waited for exam results. Waited for Shafie, who was always late.
But this… this was different. More intense. Because she wasn’t sure she even wanted to be chosen. She had promised to come. That was all. A quiet agreement made with her nursing officers who had been kind to her—encouraging, supportive, persistent.
“We’ve put you down as highly recommended,” Sister Chew had said with a proud smile. “You’ll definitely be chosen this time.” Nonie had nodded, smiled, said thank you. But inside, her voice was quiet. I don’t know. Maybe… hopefully. But that hope didn’t have the same fire it used to.
She had lost it that drive, that certainty. Maybe last year she had it. Last year, she was convinced they would pick her. She had felt ready. Deserving. But all she got then… was an interview. Yes, she had been disappointed. But she wasn’t the type to let disappointment drown her.
She had long learned that waiting for something uncertain was a waste of precious time. When the student nurse program slipped past her fingers the first time, she grieved quietly but she didn’t stop moving. That’s how the computer studies came about.
As soon as her ‘A’ Level results were in, she enrolled in a local computer school. Something solid. Something hers. No one could say she hadn’t tried. And if they still didn’t want to choose her fine. She would find another way.
There were other nursing schools. UK. Australia. She had already received a few positive responses. The door was opening, just not here. But for now, she had to go through this interview. Not because she wanted to, but because she had promised. Her nursing officers had been so supportive too supportive to ignore.
“We really believe in you,” Sister Chew had told her. “You deserve this.” They had submitted her name with a glowing recommendation: Highly Recommended. Still, she couldn’t shake off the thought, Why are they so persistent? Did it matter? No.
She had already made up her mind. She was leaving. Leaving for a place where she knew better opportunities awaited. Her plan was simple. Get into a student nursing program. Finish it, move on to a degree. If everything worked out go for a master’s. And maybe… just maybe… a PhD in Nursing.
She had it all mapped out. Step by step. All she needed was focus and she had plenty of that. Once she left, she wasn’t sure if she would ever come back to Singapore. Too many painful memories here. She could work anywhere. Nursing was universal. Always in demand. She would choose her specialty later, but she was leaning toward Medical and Surgical Nursing.
That was her world. That was where she thrived. She loved the rush when an emergency case came through the A&E doors. The adrenaline, the high-stakes rhythm, the sharp clarity required when lives hung in the balance. The High Dependency Unit, the ICU that’s where she shone.
She had even started reading up on Doctors Without Borders. The thought of serving in war zones or refugee camps, bringing care where it was needed most something about that called to her in a way nothing else did. She didn’t want a quiet life. She wanted to be where the action was. Where her presence made a difference.
Once this interview was done and over with, she had to head back to the computer lab a few blocks away. There was no time to waste her project deadline was this week. After that, she’d need to get started on the documentation, then focus on preparing for her exams.
This wasn’t how she had imagined spending her day off. But time was precious, and there was always more to do. From past experience, these interviews rarely lasted long. Five minutes, maybe ten if they felt like asking questions. Most of the girls who had gone in before her were out in under five. The shorter the better, she thought to herself.
There’s nothing much to say anyway. Just answer yes and no and get it over with. Her heart wasn’t in it. Her mind was already at the lab. She hoped she’d still find a free computer when she returned. It wasn’t always guaranteed. Sometimes she had to wait hours because the machines were taken. It frustrated her, but she endured. She had been saving steadily for months to buy her own computer.
Once she had that, she wouldn’t have to be at the mercy of anyone else. Every cent she saved came from her own monthly salary. She used it to buy textbooks, pay tuition and exam fees. None of it came cheap. On top of that, she paid her own insurance and other living expenses. And still, she gave some money to her mother. Her mother never asked never needed to.
She was doing fine on her own. But to Nonie, it was a matter of principle. A duty. Even if it was only $200 a month, it meant something. That money came from her own sweat. It wasn’t much to others, but to her, it was everything. Proof that she could stand on her own. It had always been this way.
Even her ‘A’ Level exams she paid for them herself. Someone once suggested she could apply for a student loan from MENDAKI. But she refused. Flat-out. Not because she couldn’t qualify. They had even offered. But because she didn’t want to take what she didn’t need. MENDAKI should be for students who really couldn’t afford it.
She could. Barely, yes but still. It was a matter of pride, nothing else. She didn’t want to owe anyone. She didn’t want to be a burden. She had always been independent. Let others follow behind she would never allow herself to be the shadow of anyone else. Her feet moved slowly now, carrying her toward the interview room.
But her mind was elsewhere on the unfinished project, the uncertain queue at the computer lab, the stubborn determination that refused to leave her. She slowly made her way to the bus stop. In her head, the codes were still alive—lines of logic swimming in circles, looping endlessly.
Where did I go wrong? she muttered to herself. She had tested it repeatedly. The data ran smoothly at first, then somewhere somehow the output went completely berserk. Gibberish results. A complete mess.
She wanted to stay and go through it again. To dig deeper, untangle the threads, and fix it. But her body had reached its limit. Her mind was fogged. Every muscle begged for rest. She had been in the computer lab for almost eight hours. Straight. Thankfully, the lab attendants had been kind enough to let her stay that long. And luckily for her, not many students were using the lab today. Still, it was time to leave.
No point staring at the screen any longer. She wouldn’t find the mistake now not in this state. Her mind was too worn out. She needed rest. Tomorrow, she’d be back again. Just a few more hours three, maybe four before heading for her shift at the ward. That was the rhythm of her life now. Classes were over. It was project season.
Everyone was buried in their own assignments, racing to meet the submission deadline at the end of the month. She had already completed three projects. This was the last one. Once it was done, she could breathe again. Take a short break. Then begin her revision.
But for now, she walked slowly, mechanically toward the bus stop under the fading light thinking not just of code, but of how much further she still had to go. She had almost forgotten about the interview earlier that day. As soon as it ended, she rushed straight back to the lab.
She didn’t want to waste any more time. She hadn’t taken the interview seriously anyway. It felt like just another box to tick a courtesy to her nursing officers who had pushed her to apply.
But now, as she stood at the bus stop with tired legs and a mind full of broken code, she reflected. And the more she thought about it, the more she realised—the interview was rather odd. The questions weren’t even related to nursing. And there had been… so much laughter.
There were four people on the panel. Two of the women both Chinese she recognised from the School of Nursing and the Ministry of Health. The Indian man was from the Public Service Commission. But the fourth person, a woman who looked Malay, she didn’t recognise at all.
From the moment she sat down, Nonie could feel the woman’s gaze on her not in a threatening way, just… observant. She said nothing, only scribbled occasionally in a small notebook. “I’m impressed,” the Indian interviewer said as she settled into her chair. “You’ve got a full certificate in A-Levels. How did you manage that—shift work and all?”
“Time management,” she replied simply. The four of them exchanged a glance.
“Here in your application form, you mentioned your hobby is stargazing,” one of the Chinese interviewers continued. “Would you like to tell us more about that?”
And just like that, the conversation took off. For the next ten, maybe fifteen minutes, she found herself talking not about nursing, not about patient care but about stars, black holes, and her favourite subject of all: comets.
She spoke of their orbits, their names, their rare returns. She spoke of Halley and Hyakutake, of watching meteor showers from the Science Centre’s observatory dome. To her surprise, they listened really listened nodding, smiling, eyes lighting up. “So where do you go for your stargazing?” one asked.
“Do you have your own telescope?”
“I usually go to the Singapore Science Centre,” she replied. “I don’t have my own telescope. A proper one is expensive, and I can’t afford it right now. So the Centre is the best option for me.”
“Did you apply to further your studies here? Like NUS?” asked the Nursing Tutor from the School of Nursing.
“I did. But I didn’t get in. It’s okay. I’m not upset I have other plans.”
“Oh?” they asked, intrigued. “May we know what they are?”
“I plan to go to the UK to continue my nursing studies there.” That quieted them for a second. Then came the curveball. “I’m puzzled,” the fourth lady finally spoke. Her voice calm, inquisitive. “Most Malay girls your age would already be married or at least engaged. But not you?”
Before she could answer, the Indian man chimed in. “Yes! That’s right. Do you have a boyfriend?” She gave a polite smile. “No special boyfriend,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Just some male friends to hang around with. My parents are very open about it. Marriage isn’t in my plans right now.”
A healthy lie. But would they know the difference? They laughed genuinely, warmly. “I like that term ‘hang around with,’” one of them said, chuckling. “You know what?” the Indian man grinned. “I think this girl’s more interested in gazing at the stars than at guys!” They all burst into laughter again.
She felt the sharp pain again. It came without warning. She tried to push it away she always did but it kept coming back, like a dull knife pressing deeper every time she let her guard down. Almost two years had passed. She thought she had forgotten him. She thought she had moved on. She buried herself in her work, drowned herself in her studies the only way she knew how to forget.
She wanted to forget. But the pain... it lingered. It always lingered. Everything she did every shift, every project, every sleepless night was like a mural painted over cracked walls. From the outside, people admired it. “Such a beautiful painting.” They’d smile. They’d compliment her. Not knowing what was underneath. Not seeing the damage beneath the surface.
Only she knew where the cracks ran. She blamed herself for the breakup. She wasn’t good enough for him. That must’ve been it. That’s why he drifted towards the university girls. The ones who spoke confidently about politics, literature, global affairs things she never had time to think about. She was just… an ordinary nurse. But she had loved him.
And deep down she still did. Even after all the hurt, all the silence, all the unanswered questions... If he walked back into her life today, just appeared and said he was sorry, She knew she would take him back. Without hesitation. Like those old movies they used to watch together. The ones where the ending always circled back to love. But life wasn’t a movie.
He never came back. And so, she escaped the only way she knew how. She enrolled in courses. Took on extra shifts. Learned new skills. She would prove to herself and maybe to him, too that she was capable. That she mattered.
That she could become someone worth returning to. Loneliness came, often in quiet waves. But she pushed it aside. Just like she had pushed aside the others who came after him, guys with sweet words and familiar promises. She had heard them all. Smiled politely. Stepped away. They weren’t him.
“Maybe it’s time for us to take her in then… what say you all?” The panel nodded in unison. Nonie sat still, blinking slowly. She wasn’t sure what that meant. Take her in?
“Thank you for the short seminar on astronomy,” the fourth lady finally spoke—in Malay, with a warm smile and a playful wink. Nonie returned a small smile, unsure how to respond. Whatever it means ‘take her in’ she wasn’t interested.
Right now, all she wanted was to go home. Sleep it off. Let her head rest. She needed her mind clear and steady again ready for another morning, another line of code, another shift in the ward. The stars could wait. Everything else could wait.
There weren’t many people at the bus stop. She could’ve taken the MRT, but that meant walking further to the nearest station and right now, she didn’t have the energy for that. The bus was her refuge. Fewer people took it. And if she was lucky, she could climb up to the upper deck, settle into her favourite seat on the left, near the window, and get lost in her own world as the city blurred by on the way to Tampines.
She was just about to check the timing when she saw him. He was sitting on the bench quiet, relaxed, as if he’d been there a while. And when he saw her walking toward him, he turned and smiled. “Poh-Poh.” The words came out from her mind.
His voice was gentle, familiar. “I called. Your mother told me you were at the computer lab.” She blinked, unsure what to say. How long had he been waiting?
He stood up, brushed the bench with one hand, then asked quietly, “Can I join you?” There was a pause. Then she nodded, a faint smile on her lips.
“Yes. Of course.”
Chpt 6 / 36
