Choosing hope over anger
ON his first day reporting for duty at SK Matu Baru Bintawa in 2013, Abdul Waleed Jais walked into the school office with quiet confidence.
Wearing a white shirt and a pair of dark blue pants, he was ready to begin his role as a teacher.
However, he was mistaken for a student.
'They looked at me and asked: 'Which class are you enrolling in?'' he laughs in recalling that incident.
'That day, I just calmly said: 'No, I'm here to report for duty as a teacher'.
'They apologised, of course, but I never blamed them. Coincidentally, the clothes I wore that day were of the same colours as the primary school uniform for boys,' he smiles.
Standing at just 123cm, Abdul Waleed is used to this.
The 36-year-old 'KAFA' (Al-Quran and Fardu Ain Class) teacher is also a trained architectural draughtsman, and a multi-sport paralympic athlete.
'Different'
Abdul Waleed says he cannot recall the exact moment when he realised that he was different.
What the Kuching-born man does remember is always being mocked, stared at, or made fun of because of his short stature, whether in school or in public.
He is the youngest among seven siblings; he has four older brothers and two sisters – all of average height like his parents and close relatives.
Abdul Waleed, however, grew up in a world that would never let him forget that he was small.
It was in Primary 2 or 3, during recess, when his classmates threw him into a large black dustbin and covered it with the lid.
Eventually, he managed to climb out on his own.
'I didn't report it to the teachers. What's the point? Back then, no one really cared.'
In Form 2, someone quietly stuffed his schoolbag with rocks.
He walked the familiar 1.5km route home, the weight pressing down on his small frame in every step.
He never questioned it – he was just tired. When he got home, he lay down and fell asleep.
Later, his mother opened the bag and found the rocks.
'She woke me up and asked: 'Why are there rocks in your bag?'
'I couldn't answer.
'She didn't raise her voice, and she didn't scold me, but the sadness in her eyes said everything.
'She was heartbroken. And I felt it too.'
During Form 4, Abdul Waleed was punched by a Form 2 student.
There was no clear reason – just an act that left him feeling small in more ways than one.
'These things happen when people don't see you as equal.'
Throughout his schooling years, Abdul Waleed was constantly the target of jokes and ridicule.
'It didn't stop. In every school I went to, there were always students who laughed at me because of how I looked.'
Abdul Waleed ready for his class at SK Matu Baru Bintawa.
'Mother's words that saved him'
Despite the bullying and the emotional weight dumped on him, Abdul Waleed strove.
After secondary school, he studied architectural drafting in Kuching Community College and later, worked as a draughtsman for three years.
'The job, however, offered little recognition or room for growth,' he recalls.
In 2013, Abdul Waleed became a KAFA teacher at SK Matu Baru Bintawa on contract basis.
His first class was for a group of Primary 1 pupils, and the start was far from easy.
'They laughed when they saw, made noise, didn't listen at all. It was disheartening.'
Feeling discouraged, Abdul Waleed opened up to his mother, saying that he might not be suitable to teach.
Her reply gave him the strength to stay.
'She told me: 'This is your best chance. Even with qualifications, not many employers will accept someone like you. Just hang in there.
'It will get better'.'
And it did. By the second week, the teasing stopped and the children began paying attention.
Today, Abdul Waleed enjoys a strong teacher-pupil bond built on respect.
He now holds a Bachelor's Degree of Education in Islamic Studies.
Photo from Abdul Waleed's album shows him during a stage performance at school during a National Day celebration.
'Family'
Outside the classroom, Abdul Waleed's life revolves around his family.
His son, now in Primary 3, has a pacemaker on him since he was a baby because of a serious heart condition.
'Every weekday, I wake up at 6am to send my son to school,' says Abdul Waleed.
'Then I come home, get ready, and send my wife to work before going to school myself.'
His wife, who is of average height, has been Abdul Waleed's constant support.
The two were primary school classmates who got reconnected through Facebook.
'It was always my dream to marry someone normal. I'm grateful to have her by my side,' he smiles.
Abdul Waleed hails his son as his 'emotional strength'.
'He keeps me going.'
The talented teacher with his wife and son.
He recalls one moment in particular, which was really hurtful.
'We were out together when some people laughed at me.
'I felt so angry, but my son turned to me and said: 'Just ignore them. Don't let them affect you'.
'Those words, simple yet profound, grounded me.
'My son reminded me to be strong, even when the world tried to tear me down.'
Still, Abdul Waleed admits that going out in public can be emotionally painful.
'I'm always being stared at.
'People giggle when they see me. Even the older people laugh.
'Some look at me strangely.; others pretend I don't exist.'
These reactions, at times, can make simple errands difficult.
'I feel uneasy, sad. Sometimes I don't even feel like going out just to avoid all this.'
Abdul Waleed never goes grocery-hopping alone.
'I always bring my wife. I cannot reach the higher shelves.'
He drives a specifically-modified car, which gives him independence.
However, the emotional burden of being stared at is always there.
'An athlete with pride'
Abdul Waleed finds confidence through sports.
Since 2012, he has been actively involved in tenpin bowling and lawn bowls.
He had represented Sarawak at the Para Malaysia Games (Para Sukma), winning medals in the 2016 edition Sarawak, and again in Perak in 2018.
'Sports give me a sense of purpose and pride,' he says.
'It shows that we can achieve, that we can represent our state like everyone else.'
Abdul Waleed holding the Sarawak flag in this group photo with his lawn bowl team, taken during the 2025 Merlion Cup Championship in Singapore.
'Job problem no one talks about'
For Abdul Waleed, the challenges for people with dwarfism also include the lack of fair employment opportunities.
'People with other physical disabilities often have better chances, but for the 'little people' like us, it's extremely difficult – almost impossible even.'
Abdul Waleed says even when jobs are offered, they are often the underpaying types, or limited in scope.
He then cites his personal experience as a draughtsman to better illustrate the situation.
'Despite our skills and qualifications, we're often overlooked.
'We have the intelligence. We can work. We can contribute – we just need to be trusted.'
'In need of a platform'
Currently, there is no association for the 'little people' in Sarawak.
The only one in Malaysia is the Pertubuhan Kebangsaan Orang Kerdil Malaysia, based in Kuala Lumpur.
Abdul Waleed believes that if Sarawak needs its own association, it must be one that focuses not on publicity, but on purpose.
'If we do form one, I hope it would focus on fighting for job opportunities; not just on organising events or looking for sponsorships, which wouldn't really help us.'
Abdul Waleed is clear on what he wants – dignity through independence.
'Regarding employment, I hope for government support for people with dwarfism like us.
'We deserve jobs based on our field of expertise and experience.
'Like me, if I were given the opportunity to work as a teacher under the Ministry of Education, I would no longer have to depend on OKU (Individual with Disability) welfare aid to cover my daily living expenses.
'I want to earn and support my family, just like anyone else.'
Abdul Waleed says sports give him a sense of purpose and pride.
'Doing away with stigma'
Abdul Waleed always looks back on everything that he has been through: from the pain of being thrown into a trash bin as a child, to the pride of becoming a teacher, a father, an athlete, and also a voice for those who are like him.
There is no more anger or bitterness in his words; only the calm strength of someone who has endured, and still chooses hope.
'Please don't stigmatise us. Don't be prejudiced,' he appeals.
'We're just like everyone else. We have dreams. We have potential. We just need a chance.
'I am not asking for sympathy, but I do seek fairness.
'At the end of the day, we're all humans. We all want to live with dignity,' he says. Abdul Waleed Jais dwarf dwarfism Kuching
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