Today I raised my voice to my boss. I might have overstepped
my boundaries. Showing insolence even. But my patience was ground thin.
I had earlier reported to my higher management that some of
our female students were being harassed by a male student intruding into our
campus premises from a neighbouring institution. After careful reviews of CCTV
footages, combined with the students’ testimonies fielded, a pattern of
behaviour for this male stalker was emerging quite clearly. He was clearly preying on some of our female
students. At best he had problems calming his raging hormones to put them in
check or at worse he was a sexual predator on the prowl and a pervert to the
core.
But I failed to convince my boss that he posed imminent
threat to the female population in our campus.
And that my decision to lodge a police report was the right thing to do.
Instead I got reproached for over-reacting and mindlessly jeopardising the good
relationship with our neighbouring institution. I was irked that he had not
even requested to view the video footages for himself but was quick to adjudge
that there was not enough ill-intent to warrant police action.
I voiced out my disagreement, perhaps too strongly. In a blink of an eye, he turned beetroot red. That
familiar hot flush on his face that betrays his ability to accept further divergence
in views. Very obviously, my argument had fallen flat. I was instead getting on
his goat.
I trudged back to my office, feeling downcasted and
frustrated. A police report is what any responsible citizen should lodge if he
or she had witnessed suspicious behaviour that smells of criminal intent. What
more for an educational institution purportedly putting the safety and security
of its students at the highest priority? Let the police carry out their
investigation. That was all I was pushing for.
I spent the remaining part of my work day in a moody daze.
Times like this I wonder why I even bother to slog on with
my job. Money-wise, with prudent living I am in good stead. But I wonder too if
without such work issues to deal with, how would I deal with all that time on
hand? Will I feel empowered, being independent to decide how I should spend my
time. Or would I feel worthless and deflated? An idle mind is a devil’s
workshop. Depression could fester.
I knocked off from work with the usual dark clouds hovering
above. They are now my constant companions. Returning home to the sadness that is
now a permanent fixture in my life. Wretchedness of life without my other half.
I replay again as I did so many times since she had died. How was life with her
like? I had her by my side for so many years and yet all this time together
seemed so long ago. I had to struggle to recreate the memories. What I would do
if I could just relive a single day of those 30 years, now bygone and all dried
up.
Strange that back home I could detach myself so effortlessly
from the troubles of the day at work. Blame it on my widower’s frame of mind,
all soaked in grief. Surely, all other setbacks are like insignificant blips? Like
miniscule molehills? Not least, a boss who does not appreciate my care for the
welfare and safety of my students.
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