Zulfauzi passed away on Wednesday night, 12 February, at about 2am. Ian called me sometime in the evening at to inform me that he was not doing so well and that he was going over to Zul's place to see him. I got into my pair of jeans, grabbed my wallet and took a cab to Woodlands straightaway too.

Zul has DMD. Just like Ming Keong and Vignesh. He was one of our regular participants at the outdoor camps and has always been cheerful and positive about life.

I was not prepared for what I saw when I entered his bedroom that night. I suppose, in my mind, I had an image of him lying on the bed speaking softly to his family members and looking pale and weak. I painted a movie-like picture-perfect for myself, I guess. He was, in fact, lying on his bed. However, he was having a lot of difficulty breathing. He was gasping for air and he looked just like a fish that's taken out of the water. His eyes kept rolling back everytime he took a heave of breath and he alternated between taking in those very violent breathes and a series of short gasps with long time lapses in between.

I went up to him and took his hand. I said "Hey Zul...." and I didn't know what else to say to him. I just kept holding on to his hand and rubbing his arm. He felt very cold to touch. A couple of times he actually squeezed my hand, but I am not sure if it was him trying to communicate or was it a natural reaction to his bodies' violent gasps for air.

His relatives were all there. His parents were by his side and they were holding his hands, touching his face and whispering chants from the Quran to him. Occasionally he would make little noises as if struggling for something.

I left at about 12:15am. I had to work the next day and there was nothing else I could do for Zul. I held his hand again and said a silent goodbye in my heart.

Ian, who stayed longer at Zul's house with John and Raymond, messaged me later that night and told me that Dr. Yee examined Zul. He said that Zul's heart was failing and that once it stops, Zul will leave.

The next morning, on my way to work, Ian called to inform me that Zul passed away at 2am. I did not react violently. I was prepared but I was very sad that day.

It was about 5 or 6 years ago when I first met Zul. Then, he was already confined to a wheelchair but he was positive and would not hesitate to speak into the microphone to introduce himself or his teammates to the rest of the campers. He was always cheerful and smiling.

2 days before Zul passed away, he told his mother that he saw Vignesh. On Wednesday morning itself, he told his mother that he saw his grandparents. Then in the afternoon, he told his mother that he did not want to go to the hospital and that he wanted to be at home. Some time later in the noon, he began to experience those breathing difficulties. I suppose, by some divine message, he knew that his time was up.

I realised that many of the DMD children whom I know are approaching their twenties. This will also mean that I will have to say bye to them one by one eventually, maybe soon. Although we all know what will happen at the end of the road for them, it still is difficult. How do we prepare ourselves to say bye to our friends?

Rest in peace, Zul, my friend.