However, even by strict Singaporean standards, this mother takes things waaaay too far.
Amy Chua
adopted the term tiger-mum simply because she was born in the Chinese year of the tiger – but
Yap’s mother metaphorically displays the attributes of this fearsome animal. She circles her cowering
boy like a predator stalking her prey, and she’s swift and merciless when she strikes. Yap describes
her contorted movements, as if she’s more animal than human, twisted up with rage at her son’s
poor performance in his lessons. Verse two is especially menacing, featuring a sinister sibilant sound
as she circles threateningly; you can hear sibilance in words and phrases such as she strikes, voice
stridently, circling and strenuous. The phrase she lumbers & shrieks helps readers visualise a large,
dominant animal rearing up on hind legs, screaming through bared teeth. Yap actually uses the word
ape in the phrase ape for every need; while here it means ‘apt’ or ‘according to’, as in the mother’s
actions are apt for the need of striking her son, the word can’t help but call attention to the mother’s
animalistic qualities as she prowls menacingly around the living room, ready to pounce on every little
mistake. Half-rhymes or weak-rhymes such as road/raps/grades, lesson/tuition, monday/money,
kitty/little convey an uncomfortable tension, as if things are far-from-okay in the speaker’s
neighbour’s house. Yap frequently enjambs one line of poetry into another (enjambment is the
technique of letting one line of poetry run into the next without end-stop punctuation marks
breaking the flow. Examples are plentiful: every line in stanza one enjambs into the next),
accentuating the sinister, predatory effect of the imagery as the mother circles and stalks her
tormented ‘prey’. The non-capitalisation of words at the beginning of each line is deliberate too,
which not only emphasises th