Inside the Academic Writing Classroom

“Read a thousand books, and your words will flow like a river." ― Lisa See

It is time to attend the Academic Writing lecture scheduled for 9 am. Once more, the venue is indicated on my portal. Luckily, the room is within the premises of my School, where I first registered. Today’s class is being handled by the Director of Executive Education and Professional Development in his boardroom.

This time I am wiser since I know getting lost in UUM for new students is the order of the day. I am here pretty early, and only the secretary is around. I sink myself into the conspicuous, cosy, soft-coloured sofa at the reception to wait. Of course, nowadays, waiting entails scrolling through the phone, unlike days gone past when our thoughts consumed the better part of our intellect, emotion, and spirit. The next time I look up, I see Ika swing through the door and burst into laughter on spotting me. We left the same hostel and took the same path to come here without an inkling we both are the good Doctor’s students.

And this will be our ‘home class’ for the next couple of weeks. Just before time, our lecturer hurriedly walks in, greets us, and enters his office. Soon after, his secretary ushers us into the boardroom. It is a small room that can accommodate about ten people. Well, we will later discover that the entire class comprises only three students. Three students, one of whom will soon be exempted from this course. The boardroom is numbingly cold. Air conditioning. As cold as Limuru or Timboroa in Kenya. I had felt the same cold on Sunday during the Research Methodology class. So, today, and any other day I will be in an air-conditioned facility, I will be carrying my heavy jacket since I am averse to cold weather conditions.

Unlike the previous lecture, I am here from the very beginning. The lecturer introduces himself and takes us through the course outline. He asks if we are flexible enough since he may be called to meetings by virtue of his position. See, that is the advantage of small classes. There are about six different Academic Writing classes by different lecturers, and we are at liberty to select what works best for us. I prefer courses on Sunday and Monday so that I forget about classes until the following week. And so, here I am.

The four of us develop a close bond as we gather on a weekly basis to learn. The lecturer asks me how many journals I have read as I prepare my proposal. I happily say 5. He says, ‘Lady, you gotta do better than that. By the time you graduate, you should have read over 1,000 articles in your area of expertise.’ I have not heard him right, right? So, I inquire, ‘Sir, I believe you meant 100, not 1,000?’ And with a half-serious, half-smiley face, he responds, “1,000, Anne.” Crazy guy, I decide. Where is the time to read all that when Netflix abounds in night-time therapy? Not to mention there are some I have peeped into that have this high-sounding complicated writing. Some have these tables and graphs that run into pages with formulas that dampen my spirit. And worse is reading these journals in the cold room that is the library.

Week after week, we trudge on. Assignments here, assignments there. But the highlight of this class is the extra activity we undertake that fetches us pure delight. One such bonding event is taking place today. Each one of us is cooking our traditional food and bringing it to our little dish party. Did I mention that we have real sukuma wiki (kales) here in Sintok? Yes, real, real, sukuma wiki. Once, when I went shopping in Changlun, I spotted what looked like the vegetable and decided to try it out. I recall a time I lived in another Asian country and would notice so many sukuma wiki look-alikes. I would try different leaves each time, yet none came close. But here it is. Only difference is, there is no mama mboga with her sharp knife, dexterity, and velocity. I later learn that sukuma wiki is not grown in Malaysia but imported from neighbouring Thailand. Well, for my dish party, I make ugali, sukuma wiki, and chicken, alongside a vegetable dish I am sure will be eaten. Our third classmate is from Pakistan, and you guessed it right, biriani! Ika brings a Malaysian dish, and so does the lecturer.

Another time, the lecturer decides to treat us to a meal. I have always seen this restaurant opposite the library but never ventured inside. It seems a Java or an ArtCaffe of some sort. And I am not wrong. The ambience alone beckons you from a distance. Such a time of our lives we have. Laughter and more laughter. Jokes upon jokes, of course, accompanied by a sumptuous meal. I still keep the photos we took.

When this class ends, I am sad to see it go. I have learnt the importance of having sound skills in academic writing. No matter how good a writer you are, get someone to proofread and edit your final draft. Most examiners will not accept poor writing, which can further delay graduation time. Good writing is brief, precise, and to the point, devoid of fluff. How many pages should we write? The length of your thesis depends on your topic and content. It is not the number of pages that matter, but the content and, most importantly, HOW that content is presented. You got to mean precisely what you say, and the reader MUST understand the point exactly as you intended. Time and space constrain me from expounding on this. Perhaps next time?

Did I mention that I am the exempted student who decides to attend the class anyway?