I stood outside a lively theme park and waited for my girlfriend. I was there about twenty minutes earlier than the appointed time but that didn’t matter. I was really looking forward to tonight. A few minutes later, I saw her walking towards me and frowning. “Oh, come on! Let me be the early one for once,” she said jokingly before winking at me. She strolled over to my side and held my hand. “Shall we?” she said and I did a slight bow before leading her inside.

My girlfriend and I went for a date together. We strolled around the amusement park and talked jovially with each other. We sat on many rides together like the roller coasters and the thrill houses. I even won a doll for her. I wished that time would have just stopped then and there, having her smiling face right beside mine as we ate ice cream, sat down on a bench and looked at the night sky. As time passed and slowly edged into midnight, I suggested we go on the Ferris wheel for our last ride before calling it a night and going back.

We entered the gondola of the Ferris wheel in silence. We both knew what it meant when I said ‘our last ride’, for I was going overseas the next day to further my studies and I didn’t know how long it would be before I could see her again. She sat down beside me and gripped my hand tightly. She leaned her head on my shoulder and she started sobbing silently. I caressed her hair gently, wishing more than ever for time to freeze. “I wish we could always be together,” she mumbled. We sat in cold silence except for her occasional weep as the capsule started to move up slowly. We were alone in the gondola and I had a strong urge to just break down into tears myself.

Just as we were at the apex of the Ferris wheel there was a strong jerk and a loud snapping sound. The gondola stopped moving and swayed in place. I peeped outside and regretted doing so. We were falling down; rather, the whole Ferris wheel was falling down sideways. A sudden feeling of vertigo overtook me and I brought my gaze away from the outside. I hugged my companion tightly and braced for impact. Within seconds, we crashed into a nearby tower and we stopped falling for a while. It seemed like we were safe for the time being. We were afraid; both of us were shivering. The Ferris wheel could crash at any moment and it would take at least a few hours for help to reach us since we were at the highest point.

Suddenly I just felt very nostalgic. I started talking to her about how we met, about all the time we spent together, and about the small things we shared. I could feel a tear sliding down the side of my face. My voice quivered as I spoke. She listened to me as I talked for what seemed like hours. I needed to be strong, for she was already in tears herself. “Don’t say that,” she choked through her tears. “We’ll survive this together, right?”

I could only nod my head as there was another loud jerk again. There was simply no way for us to escape. Staying inside would lead us to our doom, jumping out would also lead us to our doom. I saw the lights from the fire and rescue team; they were nearby. The Ferris wheel shook violently again this time and for the last time I hugged her. We began to slowly accelerate downwards, aided by gravity and the weight of the ride. “Now we’ll always be together,” she said again suddenly. We were finally falling down.

“Hang on kids! We’re coming!” shouted one of the fire and rescue personnel. Suddenly my whole body sprang to life again. Within a second, I picked my girlfriend up in my arms, much to her surprise. She was as light as a feather to me. “I’m sorry,” I said. I kicked open the door with my leg and jumped out. At the furthest distance, I tossed her with all my strength to the man who was trying to rescue us. He managed to catch her. I saw her eyes widen as she screamed my name. The distance between us grew as I was plummeting downwards. I was free falling down a 14-storey high Ferris wheel and the chance of my survival from the fall was completely nil. I was quite at peace, as I could only look up to see the fire and rescue personnel holding her back from jumping down after me.

I started to shout, “I’m sorry. I really wish we could be together forever. I really do. Thank you for spending all those times with me. You really brought back colour and meaning to my life again. I love-“

My brain perceived me hitting the ground. My voice was cut off mid-sentence as I felt my whole body become limp; or rather I couldn’t feel my body at all. Red colour overtook my vision, and I couldn’t see anything anymore. The last thing I saw with my mind’s eye was the smiling face of my girlfriend. Then, everything went black.

-Terence

A house, many people could define this as a roof over your head and a comfortable environment to survive in. However, I believe that there is more to a house than just the physical things that make it up. I lived in a house for most of my childhood and looking back I can say I had good memories there, but I had to move when I was in my early teenage years. I had to move because my parents rented that house and the owners were selling it. Then we rented another house, where we only lived for a year, yet, again we had to move because the owners said they were selling that house too. So finally we moved into a trailer, where I have lived ever since then.

Living here has not been the best time. I mean for me, who has been so used to living in a house, it was quite an adjustment. So looking back at my childhood yes, I have moved a lot and now living in a trailer. However, it is not about what you live in, whether it be a townhouse, condo, a motel, a hotel, an igloo, or even a trailer. What matters is the love inside the house, which is what makes it a home. When people say,"I'm going to my house," they say,"I'm going to the structure that was built for me," but when people say,"I'm going to my home," that means they are going to a place where they are loved and know they are welcomed with open arms.

You see, having a house is one thing but without the people in it who love and care for one another, it is just a house with doors, windows, paints and a big roof over your heads. So, having this place called home rather than just a house, is a good opportunity for my family to grow and continue to be there for each other. It is an opportunity for my little brother and sisters to have a place they can call home. A place where they will remember and smile when they look back and being able to recall the fun and sweet memories they had. This meant so much to my family and to me, a house we can finally call home. I knew that when they move to somewhere else, their lives will never be the same again but it is not just them who will be affected. I am too, and I look forward to spending time in our home together and making many more memories to come. Now that is what a place I would like to call home !

It all started when my friends and I decided to organize a get-together at a hill resort during the school holidays. We met up at the state’s bus station and got on the bus that we chartered to take us to our destination early in the morning. The journey there, which took about 3 hours or so, was uneventful as nothing particularly interesting happened. When we arrived, the first thing we did was check into a hotel and dropped off our luggage there. My friends, being the thrill seekers that they were, immediately ran to the outdoor theme park and sat on some of the rides there. As for me, I sat out of most of the attractions as I wasn’t too fond of such things. I opted to sit near the roller coasters that my friends sat on instead and followed them around. They were not very happy about this, or maybe they just felt bad because I wasn’t joining them in their fun. So, they asked me to at least join them in a, supposedly, kiddy ride, a very mild ride that they assured I would enjoy. Since I too felt bad for not indulging in their wants for the whole trip so far, I hesitantly agreed and they quickly pulled me over to where the ride was. They brought me into a dimly lit tunnel where I could barely make out the last half of the words on a signboard which read, “… Mine Train”.

The queue for that particular ride was longer than any I’ve seen before. While waiting for our turn, my friends and I talked amongst ourselves about anything that came to our minds. It’s really easy, being friends and all. The words just come naturally. However, this time, I felt as if the conversation was artificial and I was further convinced of this when I noticed that my friends were exchanging glances from time to time and refused to meet my gaze. My attention was drawn away from them when I heard some screams in the distance. I expressed my concern about the screams to my friends but they only said it was a normal thing, that “everyone screams in a roller coaster ride”. At that particular moment, I just felt like walking away from them because I caught on to what they were planning, yet I couldn’t make my escape because we were surrounded by a lot of people and I couldn’t push through them.

About 10 minutes later, it was almost our turn to get on the ride. All the screaming made the waiting so much worse. In fact, I had already become a nervous wreck long before I could see the carriages of the roller coaster. I had the urge to make a beeline to the exit gate since it was only a railing away and I could easily jump over it but my friends knew me all too well; they had long since grabbed both my arms and prevented me from running away. I struggled in vain as they continued to maintain a vice-like grip on my arms and dragged me, against my will, to the ride. They forced me down on a seat and made sure I stayed there by strapping me in tightly. As a second line of defence, one of my friends even sat down beside me to make sure I didn’t escape… or maybe they were just afraid I might do something crazy. Whatever the reason, it made me feel slightly safer, to have someone I know sitting beside me.

The sound of metal gears clinking against each other indicated that the ride was going to move. We ascended right out of the tunnel, and only then did I realize just how high up we were. Did I mention I was acrophobic? By the time we reached the apex of the roller coaster, I was already white-faced and shaking all over. Ironically, I cursed myself for trusting my friends earlier and for not running away while I still could. As if to emphasize my despair, the ride stopped for a moment so I could only helplessly stare downwards from where I was.

Some people say that, just before dying, we are able to see our most cherished memories again. As time seemed to stop at the turning point of the roller coaster, I could practically see all the images of me in the past. I saw myself, aged four, playing a computer for the first time. Then, there was me again, eating a chicken chop all on my own. Finally, I saw myself with my friends, all of us wearing coats with ties in another country, smiling from ear to ear. Sadly, I was not able to fully enjoy those recollections of myself as we plunged, almost vertically downwards, at very alarming speeds.

The very first thing I did was close my eyes and grip the bar in front of my seat with all my might. However, I felt dizzy with my eyes closed and was forced to open them within a few seconds of their closing. Then, I saw the most amazing sight. My friends in front of me raised their arms in the air and were laughing like jackals and were facing me, as if they were not even on a roller coaster. Heck, they were even talking like normal to each other while I was holding on to my dear life. I was pretty sure they were trying to tell me something, but I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I started to scream at the top of my lungs. Even I was surprised that I could shout so loudly. I screamed, I bawled, I yelled, I screeched, I shrieked, I yodeled, and I did anything else that the English language had that was a synonym of ‘shout’. I was taken for the ride of my life, in every literal manner.

I wasn’t sure what really happened on the roller coaster. I closed my eyes sometimes, and when they weren’t closed, I was screaming my lungs out till they were. In fact, I was probably the only person screaming as everyone else was too shocked to scream themselves. The ride brought me up, down, left, right, circles, loops, and more. All this while, my friends in front of me had their hands raised and were laughing their hearts out, probably because of me. Their bodies swayed according to the motion of the carriage, left, right, left, right, but they didn’t seem to care.

It felt as if an eon had passed, but the ride finally ended when it slowed down and I couldn’t scream any longer. Although it only took a few minutes, maybe even less, I believed that the sound energy I produced within that time frame was bigger in magnitude than what I had released in the past few months. When the ride finally stopped, everyone got out except for me. My hands, cold and clammy, were glued to the safety bar in front of me and refused to listen to my brain. My friend who sat beside me had to pry my hand off the bar finger-by-finger and even so, I still couldn’t get out properly. My legs were shaking and I had trouble standing up. I was sure that, after seeing how shaken I was, I saw a few other would-be passengers simply walking away to the exit gate instead of sitting on the ride that they queued up for for more than 10 minutes. I didn’t go on anymore thrill rides after that one. I merely sat nearby and enjoyed the weather.

After it was all said and done, however, I think that that was a good experience overall. Some of my friends repeatedly apologized to me, while some of them continued to poke fun at me even until now. In all actuality, even I can just laugh it off. Maybe, just maybe, I could muster the confidence to sit that kind of ride another time when we plan another get-together. Regardless, I am glad that I did do something interesting there and I’m sure that that memory will stick with us for a long time to come.

-Terence

I was born into a Baba-Nyonya family, otherwise known as Peranakan family. As a child, I never understood how lucky I was to be a part of such a family, being able to enjoy both the cultures and cuisines of Malays and Chinese. You see, the Peranakan community has been in Malaysia since the 15th century, and originally immigrated from China. We have assimilated many customs in the Nusantara (Malaysia and Indonesia) and have become part of the local communities. As such, many of our customs are based on Malay and Chinese origins. The cuisines, for one, uses many spices found only in this region.

The language that the Baba-Nyonya community uses is far different from the normal, accepted, from-the-book Malay. Sadly, I never really understood it and thus never really learnt it. It is a dying language, and its contemporary use is mainly limited to members of the older generation. A mix of English-Malay has now replaced this as the main language spoken amongst the younger generation, with English being more widely used and a few Malay words slotted in between.

Touching on clothing style, there isn't a distinct attire for the Babas(Men) to wear. However, the Nyonyas'(Women) clothes is very similiar to the Native Malays. For example, their clothing consists of a long dress, a batik skirt, gold brooches and beaded slippers.

My favourite part, the food. Many of the Baba-Nyonya foods are based around Chinese cooking techniques and Malay ingredients. As such, most of the foods are generally spicy and uses many herbs. Ingredients encompasses coconut milk, laksa leaves, pandan leaves, belacan(belachan), tamarind juice, lemongrass, ginger, star anises, cinnamon sticks and so on. Another special ingredient is the cincaluk; a special species of small prawns with a very, very strong taste and smell. Many Nyonya dishes take a long time to prepare, and as such taste the best when served at home. You can't say you've tried proper Nyonya food like Buah Keluak, Pong teh, Babi masak cuka, babi asam, itek tim, and so on until you've actually been to a Baba-Nyonya family and eaten at their house. Those stuff at the shops? Poor, poor renditions with profit in mind, cutting costs and corners while also cutting the taste. Many tourists have been cheated, actually, into eating these second grade dishes and leaving to think they've actually tasted the real Baba-Nyonya specialities. I'm very lucky, because both my mother and my grandmother are masters at Baba-Nyonya dishes, and I've grown up with such dishes as an almost everyday thing. The thousands of tastes that the cuisines have make me always want to eat more, and whenever there's some curry around, oh boy, the rice just won't be enough.

All good things come to an end, though. The Peranakan culture is slowly dying out with marriages between the Peranakan and mainstream Chinese or Malay becoming more and more common. Many of the younger generation Peranakans do not learn to speak Baba-Nyonya Malay anymore and thus also do not carry out various cultural rituals mainly due to government policies such as "Malay as the National Language" in Malaysia, and since Peranakans are considered as Chinese politically, the Mother Tongue Policy in Singapore also contributes to the dilution of this culture. But who am I to blame? I, as a pure Baba, have not put in any effort at all to carry on this colourful culture to the next generation.

TRIIIING! TRIIING! I woke up with a start and hit the snooze button on my alarm clock. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the table calendar that was placed beside my bed. 3 January 2000. I immediately jumped out of bed with a wide grin that was etched on my chubby face. I went into the bathroom and took a warm and soothing shower, brushed my teeth and combed my hair as nearly as my mother had taught me to do. After all that, I quickly got dressed in my brand new school uniform which consisted of a school badge that was sewn on the pocket of a crisp and smart white shirt, a pair of dark blue short pants and also a pair of white socks. When everything was done, I ran down the stairs happily to meet my parents and little brother who was sitting at the dining table having a slice of toast that was smothered in jam and butter.

"Wah, boy, so eager to go to school?" my father said as he smiled at me. I nodded in approval and took a seat beside my brother who was poking a finger at his breakfast.
"Haha, of course he is. It's his very first day in school. The start of a brand new life in his childhood days," my mother added.
"Come on, boy. You wouldn't want to be late for school on your first day, would you?" my father asked as he took the car keys and put on his coat. I quickly gobbled up my breakfast and located my school back that was placed beside the shoe rack. I noticed a pair of little white shoes too. After putting them on, I raced to the car while carrying my bag and almost tripped on my dog's tail. The surprised animal got up and barked as if to say ,"Hey! Watch it!". I patted my dog and told him to be good as I would not come home until school was finished. He licked my hand sadly and whimpered when he saw me getting into the car. I closed the door and could not wait to start the journey for school. A few minutes later, my mother and brother walked over and wished me good-bye and told me to enjoy myself. I nodded and after that, my father slowly reversed the car out of the house and then, we were on our way.

"Here, boy. Take this money in case you want to buy some snacks or you might want to call us," my father said while holding out a 50-sen coin. I accepted the money gratefully and thanked him for it. While listening to the music that was playing on the radio, I could not help but think of the things that I would experience when I was there. 15 minutes later, I saw a huge signboard that was placed in front of a big building. 'S.K. St. Francis' it read.

"Go on now. That's your school. See all the children there? They are of the same age as you. Come on," my father told me as he gave me a little push. I took my bag and stepped out of the car nervously. A male teacher, fierce-looking and holding an unbelievable long cane, came to me and said ,"Boy, are you a Standard 1 student?". I nodded my head meekly as a sign of approval. "Go over there and wait for the rest," he said and pointed out the spot with his cane. Mr. Ee Gim Siong, a teacher that I will never forget in my life. I walked sheepishly to the big crowd of children. Some were crying, some were running around but most of them seemed to be excited and happy at the same time to be in school. Suddenly, a bell rang loudly and those who were crying, cried louder. I saw all of the students rush to the stage and lined up, two by two, according to their class. I heard the headmaster announce.

"Good morning, fellow students. It's the start of a new year. Be prepared for another year of fun, joy and unfortunately, sadness. Now, may we sing a few patriotic songs before we leave for classes?" He gave a signal to another teacher and music started playing. We sang the national anthem, the state's anthem and the school's anthem. After that, we recited an oath and then, the headmaster dismissed us and allowed us to return to our classrooms. The Standard 1 students were required to stay back in front of the stage as they announced which class we would be placed in. After hearing a few names.
"Isaiah Tan Chung Zhen, 1 Putih," I heard a teacher say. I walked over to a row of students and sat with them. After everyone was placed in their respective classes, we headed to a small classroom that was situated beside the school's tiny garden. The form teacher, Pn. Saras, came in and took our attendance. I raised my little hand when I heard my name and when everyone's name was recorded, the teacher started her lesson. It was a Bahasa Melayu lesson and we learned how to construct sentences and also how to spell. When her period was over, another teacher walked in. Before she came in, we wished Pn. Saras and greeted the next teacher. Pn Tan, our Mathematics teacher. A teacher who would not stand any nonsense but was kind in every way a person could think of. She taught us how to add and subtract and later, gave us our very first homework. As both teachers had a double period, we had recess after Mathematics so when Pn. Tan had to leave, we quickly thanked her and scrambled our of class. I took my sandwiches that were made by my mother and sat under a tree. I observed the other kids quietly when suddenly, my classmate walked up to me and sat beside me.
"Had fun during Maths?" he asked
"Yeah. You?"
"Same as you," he replied. "What's your name?" he continued.
"Isaiah. Isaiah Tan," I answered.
"How do you pronounce that?"
"I-zay-uh," I replied.
"Oh, sorry for being ride but I've never heard of that name before. By the way, I'm Dwayne. Nice to meet you," he said as he held out his hand to shake mine. I took it and we both became friends. After chatting for a while, we heard the bell ring again and we immediately ran to the stage and took our placed. A teacher stood on the stage and told a few of the remaining students who were in the canteen to hurry up and when he said a few things, he looked the prefects to lead us back to our classroom. Everyone was still excited even after recess was over and it was very noisy. The helpless prefect even had to shout to keep us quiet but to no avail. Our next subject teacher walked in and told us to settle down and prepare for the next lesson which was English. We learned how to spell as we did in Bahasa Melayu and had a dictation test to see how good our listening skills were. I was overjoyed to know that I had scored full marks in that test and received a pat on the back by that teacher. Pn Chang. Another teacher who would not tolerate nonsense but had a good sense of humour. English was also a double period so finally, school was coming to an end. Next was Pendidikan Moral. We greeted him and when we were about to sit, he suddenly shouted loudly.
"YOU!" he pointed at a small boy who was sitting by the door. The boy immediately broke into tears and started crying in his seat.
"Goodness, you guys can't take a joke?" he said as he walked over to the boy and started to comfort him, telling the boy that it was meant to be a joke. The whole class started laughing and in the end, the boy started to laugh between his sobs. After an exhilarating 30 minutes of Pendidikan Moral, it was time to go home. The bell rang and after everyone had thanked the teacher, we quickly grabbed our bags and waited patiently for our parents to arrive and bring us back home. I caught sight of my parents who were smiling at me while waiting at the school gate. Before I left, I wished Dwayne a good day and also told him that I hope to see him again. He thanked me and shook my hands once more. After all that, I got into my father's car and smiled to myself.
"So, how was school?" my mother asked.
" It was fantastic," I replied.
" A full day in school and all you can tell us is just three words?" my father questioned me.
"Oh, alright. Let me tell you ALL of it," I sighed. As I told them everything, they laughed when it was funny and when I had finished telling them everything, we had already reached home. After taking my lunch and my bath, I fell onto my bed and smiled again. Thinking of my new friends and also my first day in school.

I looked out of the window and was shocked to see a girl cornered by three men holding knives in an alley opposite my house. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the girl was someone I recognized although we haven't talked to each other before. My brain started working on the possible solutions to this problem. My parents were working and wouldn't be back anytime soon. Both my sisters were studying overseas. The first thing that came to my mind was to call the police and see the situation unfold. However, the police would never be able to make it in time and who knew what might happen to the girl if things continued as they were. Another solution was to simply ignore the whole scene, as if I had never seen anything but I couldn't do that, I couldn't live with the guilt of not doing anything while someone was suffering. Then, the last solution, and the one I dreaded the most, came info my mind. I would have to go down there myself to buy some time before the police arrived. I shivered at the thought of going against armed men. Without delaying any further, I gave the police a call and quickly explained the situation to them. Then, I grabbed anything that could serve me as a weapon of shield. Even though the police told me not to do anything funny, I knew what I had to do if that girl was to be saved.

I found myself running out of my house with an iron pole, possibly from an unused pipe which was about about four feet long and a metal tray about the size of my torso with a handle in the middle. I wasn't thinking about much as I ran there but I was fairly aware of some voices in my head that were telling me to stop or I would get hurt.

Considering the distance between my house and the alley was about twenty metres or so, I made it there in less than a minute. The situation had not progressed much further except that the girl was driven further to a corner and the men were steadily advancing towards her, like a predator playing with its prey. Without any warning, I dashed forward and tackled the man closest to me. He fell down with a loud thud and while his two friends were too dazed to react, I placed myself in between the men and the girl.

I felt like a knight in shining armour protecting a damsel in distress from the evil men but that feeling was short-lived as the three men looked seriously angry at my interference and my courage was slowly turning into fear. I began to tremble and my legs felt like jelly, ready to buckle without a moment's notice. However, by sheer willpower or maybe because it was my masculine instinct, I stood my ground and waited for my opponents to make their move. After all, my main objective was to buy time for the police and minimize any injuries that I could get.

It wasn't long before one man, that one I tackled earlier, rushed at me with his knife in the air. Lucky for me, my iron pole was much longer than his knife so I managed to hit his hand away, effectively disarming him in the process, and delivered a kick to his stomach that sent him groveling on the cold floor. Upon seeing this, his two accomplices rushed at my in the same fashion as the first man.

Everything happened so fast. I myself didn't know how I managed to react so quickly. I blocked one of my opponents with my tray but the other man was attempting to stab my chest. I dropped my pole because it was too long and used my bare hand to stop the blade. I felt my right hand become numb as blood splattered on my clothes. At the same time, I heard the girl behind me gasp and the sound of the police siren blaring in the background. The men's faces contorted in fear as they cursed and tried to run away but were caught by nets shot by the police.

I slumped down on my knees, the knife still impaled in my hand and the other end of the blade protruding out from the back of my palm. I did not feel any pain, really, but I couldn't feel my whole arm. I lost track of time as my vision slowly faded. I was aware that an ambulance arrived a while later and I was rushed to a hospital. When I regained consciousness, I found my parents beside me. My mother looked like she had been crying for some time while my father had a grim expression on his face. When they saw me moving, they immediately hugged me, scolded me and my mother broke down in tears again all at the same time. The girl and her family visited me a while later and then I was hugged once again, thanked and praised by her parents. The doctor told me that I was going to be fine and that I just needed to rest for a few days as I was still suffering from 'shock' as he would call it.

I was constantly visited by my parents over the course of the next few days after being warded. My parents showed me a newspaper cutting of an article about modern-day knights and about how some act of courage could save a life. In that article, there was a picture with my face in it as well as a drawn rendition of the events that transpired that day. The girl became a good friend of mine after I was released from the hospital and she always liked to talk about the day when she first met me. It was a very hectic day indeed, that day when I decided to look out of the window.

Write a speech on Influenza A(H1N1) based on the given points.

I would like to bid a very good morning to my teachers and fellow friends. I have no doubt that all of us have heard about the Influenza A(H1N1) outbreak recently since it is a hot topic that is always being brought up by the local newspapers and television programmes.

For those of you who still do not know what Influenza A(H1N1), which I will refer to as H1N1 in future, is exactly, it is a highly contagious acute respiratory disease. It is caused by a new virus that is not yet known to man. In conjunction with Health Week, I, as the president of the Health Club, will explain the signs and symptoms of H1N1 as well as protective measures to take to prevent you from falling prey to this disease.

The signs and symptoms of H1N1 are not unlike the common flu. Nevertheless, if you have experienced or are experiencing high fever, persistent cough, sore throat or runny nose, it is advisable to see a medical practitioner immediately. There is no definite way to differentiate H1N1 from the common flu unless you get a proper medical examination.

To prevent yourself from contracting this disease, you should, at all times, avoid contact with those who appear unwell. In addition to that, you should stay out of crowded areas. You also need to avoid touching your eyes, nose and mouth. You must practice good health habits like wearing a surgical mask if you have fallen sick and washing your hands often. I would like to add that, while H1N1 is still out of control, we need to wash our hands much more often than usual, even to the point of being excessive. Last but not least, we need to say informed on the latest news concerning H1N1.

In conclusion, although H1N1 is highly contagious, it is very possible to contain it. If everyone were to take proper preventive measures, I am sure that, before long, H1N1 will simply be lost in history, never to be heard of again. After all, as the saying goes, prevention is better than cure. With this, I would like to end my talk by saying that each and every one of us will make a contribution, whether it is destroy this virus outright or to let it continue to run rampant. Thank you.