Sorry, not sorry, but I am angry for our children

Jenni Ho-Huan
8 min readMar 14, 2022
an adult sunbird in midair hovering to feed its chick in a hole in a tree trunk
Phyomoea, Myanmar

I rammed into the classroom where my daughter has holed up to study.

“Gosh, I feel mad. Augh, why must I feel so angry about it?”

Moms aren’t legitimately meant to be in classrooms, but I wanted to hang close to my baby. None of us leaves a classroom anyway, life being our schoolmaster.

Her school is nestled close to our amazing Heritage Botanical Gardens, so I had gone for an early jaunt. Barely five hundred steps on the pathway, with the pond coming into view, several prams pushed by live-in foreign maids crossed me. The children, either already tired or simply longing for meaningful connection, looked disinterested in all the life bursting around them. My heart ached a little. I greeted them all but there was nary a response from children or adults.

Further along, another child, this time a lil’ boy looking even unhappier came towards me. Again I greeted him. The maid who was pushing him mentioned he was earlier frightened by one of the Park’s vehicles. The poor chap was clearly not consoled, comforted, or educated about his experience. The pram had a bag full of potato chip canisters hanging from it. “Picnic with your friends?” I ventured. Who can blame her? Far from home, she needs her friends. And hopefully, they too are minding children who are able to play together.

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