This August we celebrate 51 years of independence.
51 years of against-the-odds survival. 51 years of cringe-worthy drama serials, of Hello Kitty edition Happy Meal queues, of arguments over the best chicken rice in town.
Yes, we know that we are a confusing mess of contradictions. Stark signs of modernity with our jungle of glass-clad skyscrapers vis cramped colonial-era shop houses and their five-foot ways. Our genial, affable, Instagram-loving Prime Minister vis his monolithic, book-banning, show-stopping, courtesy campaign-touting government.