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Friday, November 27, 2015

This morning, in the train, a little girl of about five was fighting with her brother of about twelve or so.

She soon started to scream. Seeing this, the elder sister of about ten came to them and tried to pull them apart. When this failed, she slapped the little five year old in the face a few times.

The five year old, shocked but still angry and crying, began punching her brother in the head with her little hands. He took the blows, smirking. His hands strong, his built bigger than his two little sisters'.
The elder sister turned to the brother and spoke to him quietly, asking him to stop. Almost begging.
The cause of the fight was over a few RM1 notes - which the brother had apparently snatched from the five-year old and didn't want to return. He gave half of it back, when he saw that the people in the train were looking.

Patriarchy begins at home.

Growing up, I didn't have a brother to look up to. I am the daughter, I am the son. I am the sister. I am the brother. My mom would always say "what boys can do, you can too. As well if not better". I grew up believing that. Nothing is too heavy, too hard, too tough, or too dangerous.

There were times I wish I had an elder brother to look up to. But looking back, I am not sure if I will be the woman I am today if I had one.