读了G给N写的悼文后，我开始明白自己对整件事的情绪不仅仅是不甘心，还包括羡慕。
我羡慕他们曾有过要好的时光，我羡慕他们的关系紧密到无人能取代。
我羡慕他这样被怀念着。
与其羡慕，不如开始珍惜自己身边的人，建立我们之间的专属关系和自己被怀念的可能，不是更好吗？
但是，
希望被人怀念这个想法，对生者而言是痛苦的，是自私的；
为了希望被人怀念而建立关系，根本不是真心，这只会让我鄙视我自己。
作为惩处，我是否应该开始不再对任何人付出真心，然后一直撑到世上对我的最后一分怀念消失以后，才作一次无人记得的告别？
Saturday, August 31, 2019
Thursday, August 29, 2019
类似蝴蝶效应的狂想——真的，只是个狂想
有一天，有个陌生人给你一个文件夹，然后在人海中消失。
文件夹里有则新闻声称你因某件事在某地点死亡，在未来20XX年X月X日X时；
文件夹里还有几份亲朋好友社交网站上为你写的悼词，日期也是在20XX年X月X日之后。
你会觉得这是不安好心的恶作剧，还是某个人从未来回来提醒你、试图把你救下来？
文件夹里有则新闻声称你因某件事在某地点死亡，在未来20XX年X月X日X时；
文件夹里还有几份亲朋好友社交网站上为你写的悼词，日期也是在20XX年X月X日之后。
你会觉得这是不安好心的恶作剧，还是某个人从未来回来提醒你、试图把你救下来？
Sunday, August 25, 2019
19970226-20190822
来不及参加选美赛 22岁男生昏迷亡
发布/2019年8月25日 2:45 PM
文/张曦予, 陈玉能
来自/新明日报
22岁国大理学院俊俏帅哥新生，忽然在购物中心昏倒紧急送院，原定参加的新生选美赛为表尊重临时取消，新生挣扎一周后不幸离世。
8月正逢许多大学新生迎新之际，各个大学旗下学院科系都会各自主办迎新活动，以及新生选美赛。新加坡国立大学理学院原定在本月16日晚间在Bugis Plus购物中心内的欣艺坊（Joyden Hall）举行，不料却在当天早上基于一些不可预知的情况，必须临时取消迎新晚会兼选美赛。
《新明日报》辗转探知，这次选美赛共有6对男女参赛，其中一名22岁的男参赛者于15日晚间在Bugis Plus忽然晕倒，当晚紧急送院。由于情况严重，这名男生必须待在加护病房。负责选美的学校筹办方为尊重出事的参赛者，决定取消活动。
无奈，这名22岁的许姓男学生情况没有好转，最终于8月22日离世。网上有传这名国大男生的死因或跟脑部动脉瘤有关。这名学生长相俊俏，据悉人缘很好。
国大理学院在回复媒体询问时表示，所有受影响的学生已被告知取消的决定，并且都能谅解背后原因。另外，国大发言人也证实这名22岁男学生离世，并为此深表遗憾与伤感，而校方也将在这段期间给予家人所需的支持。
死者的家人透过社交媒体告知死讯，并表示这个消息对大家来说都非常沉重。
据一名友人透露，对于22岁爱儿就这样走了，毫无预兆，父母都感到非常难过，也哭了好多回，让大家都非常心酸。
发布/2019年8月25日 2:45 PM
文/张曦予, 陈玉能
来自/新明日报
22岁国大理学院俊俏帅哥新生，忽然在购物中心昏倒紧急送院，原定参加的新生选美赛为表尊重临时取消，新生挣扎一周后不幸离世。
8月正逢许多大学新生迎新之际，各个大学旗下学院科系都会各自主办迎新活动，以及新生选美赛。新加坡国立大学理学院原定在本月16日晚间在Bugis Plus购物中心内的欣艺坊（Joyden Hall）举行，不料却在当天早上基于一些不可预知的情况，必须临时取消迎新晚会兼选美赛。
《新明日报》辗转探知，这次选美赛共有6对男女参赛，其中一名22岁的男参赛者于15日晚间在Bugis Plus忽然晕倒，当晚紧急送院。由于情况严重，这名男生必须待在加护病房。负责选美的学校筹办方为尊重出事的参赛者，决定取消活动。
无奈，这名22岁的许姓男学生情况没有好转，最终于8月22日离世。网上有传这名国大男生的死因或跟脑部动脉瘤有关。这名学生长相俊俏，据悉人缘很好。
国大理学院在回复媒体询问时表示，所有受影响的学生已被告知取消的决定，并且都能谅解背后原因。另外，国大发言人也证实这名22岁男学生离世，并为此深表遗憾与伤感，而校方也将在这段期间给予家人所需的支持。
死者的家人透过社交媒体告知死讯，并表示这个消息对大家来说都非常沉重。
据一名友人透露，对于22岁爱儿就这样走了，毫无预兆，父母都感到非常难过，也哭了好多回，让大家都非常心酸。
Friday, August 16, 2019
16 August 2019 at 13:55
https://www.facebook.com/xtremer87/posts/10157765006010312
Dearest Friends, Family, and everybody I have had the great fortune to have crossed my life with,
It has been a wonderful 32 years that God has granted me. To have known each and every one of you. Words cannot sufficiently express my gratefulness and happiness to have all of you as part of the jigsaw puzzle that competed my life.
This journey, however short, requires me to depart at the next station, approximately 2 months from now.
The darkness of cancer has enveloped almost all the critical functioning organs in my body, and has begun to do what it was meant to do.
It has been a long, painful and drawn out battle for the past year.. and finally my strength has almost been completed depleted. My status is beyond the reach of medical sciences as well now.
Though my armor is battle worn and broken, my peace remains. As sure as the sun rises on the dawn, my destination awaits me.
The purpose of this post is to let all of you, my dear companions know that I appreciate all of you so much. I pray that the memories I have made with you will remain a part of you even as I get off the train of mortality. Remember me for the good that I did, and I plead with you to forgive me if I have done anything that has wronged you.
Remember me for the battles I fought alongside with you, and I pray for your forgiveness if I injured you in any way.
32 years is a relatively short time for most people, but in the ocean of eternity, even a hundred years is a speck of dust.
Death is but a gateway to my eternal home. Where there will be no more pain, no more suffering, no more tears and always, always peace.
As my Master awaits me with open arms in heaven, i invite each and every one of you to join me at the very end when inevitably we all reach the great equalizer.
I will be waiting for all of you with the widest smile, to hear all your stories and adventures in life.
Live the life I could not have, and may your days be filled with joy, peace, and an eternal hope that transcends even death.
To all who are reading this post, I leave you with a permanent blessing:
I pray that my Lord grant you Shalom, a peace that grants you an unshakable joy, health, favor, love, prosperity, strength, kindness, goodness. That each an every one of you will live life with a smile, knowing that at least one person is watching over you from above.
WIth all my heart, thank you for giving me the best life a boy could have.
Andrew
Dearest Friends, Family, and everybody I have had the great fortune to have crossed my life with,
It has been a wonderful 32 years that God has granted me. To have known each and every one of you. Words cannot sufficiently express my gratefulness and happiness to have all of you as part of the jigsaw puzzle that competed my life.
This journey, however short, requires me to depart at the next station, approximately 2 months from now.
The darkness of cancer has enveloped almost all the critical functioning organs in my body, and has begun to do what it was meant to do.
It has been a long, painful and drawn out battle for the past year.. and finally my strength has almost been completed depleted. My status is beyond the reach of medical sciences as well now.
Though my armor is battle worn and broken, my peace remains. As sure as the sun rises on the dawn, my destination awaits me.
The purpose of this post is to let all of you, my dear companions know that I appreciate all of you so much. I pray that the memories I have made with you will remain a part of you even as I get off the train of mortality. Remember me for the good that I did, and I plead with you to forgive me if I have done anything that has wronged you.
Remember me for the battles I fought alongside with you, and I pray for your forgiveness if I injured you in any way.
32 years is a relatively short time for most people, but in the ocean of eternity, even a hundred years is a speck of dust.
Death is but a gateway to my eternal home. Where there will be no more pain, no more suffering, no more tears and always, always peace.
As my Master awaits me with open arms in heaven, i invite each and every one of you to join me at the very end when inevitably we all reach the great equalizer.
I will be waiting for all of you with the widest smile, to hear all your stories and adventures in life.
Live the life I could not have, and may your days be filled with joy, peace, and an eternal hope that transcends even death.
To all who are reading this post, I leave you with a permanent blessing:
I pray that my Lord grant you Shalom, a peace that grants you an unshakable joy, health, favor, love, prosperity, strength, kindness, goodness. That each an every one of you will live life with a smile, knowing that at least one person is watching over you from above.
WIth all my heart, thank you for giving me the best life a boy could have.
Andrew
Wednesday, May 22, 2019
Meet the Millennial - May 22, 2019
MEET THE MILLENNIAL Having Stage 4 Cancer At 32 – “The Greatest Lesson In Life Is To Learn How To Die”
Lim Bei Ling
May 22, 2019
“It’s the absence of hope that makes cancer patients lose all sense of life.”
At 32, Andrew has only about four to six months to live, should his current treatments fail. He has Aggressive Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and it isn’t the first time medical treatments have failed on him. He had already gone through 10 rounds of what is supposed to be the most effective, available chemotherapy for his case, only for the cancer cells to return with a vengeance.
Within the span of less than a year, he has gone from optimistic and hopeful to terminally ill.
When I first met Andrew about 9 years ago, he was an assistant producer at the place I interned at. In short, just an ordinary, healthy person who is few years my senior. Yet, when I met him at a cafe near his home earlier last week, he had to walk with the help of a cane. What used to be the physique of a sportsman is now this frail person with a slight hunchback, pallid face, and a bare head, save for a soft fuzz of hair that has started to regrow.
He was first diagnosed with stage 1 Aggressive Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a type of cancer that affects certain types of immune system cells, last June. The tumour has since grown to a point where he is unable to ‘survive’ without the use of morphine. The tumour growth near his lungs presses on his rib cage every time he takes a breath, causing him immense pain.
Back then, it was only by pure coincidence that the doctor stumbled upon the tumor.
STAGE 1 ONLY, NO BIGGIE
It was only when Andrew checked himself into A&E for a high fever one night when they found out.
He had gone to the hospital as a precautionary measure, as he had a history with Pneumothorax (collapsed lung). Fearing complications that could have arose from the major surgery he did for Pneumothorax prior, the doctors ran some x-ray tests on him. The tests returned with signs of a tumour growth at the upper part of his chest.
Further biopsy tests identified it as stage 1 Lymphoma.
“Back then, the doctors were super confident—it wasn’t a complicated case. 90 percent of people who had this [cancer] at this stage have been cured.”
With that assurance and his strong belief in the medical system, he proceeded with the recommended treatments—chemotherapy—confident that it was nothing to worry about.
“I had great trust in our medical treatments. Like eh, stage one [only], what is this man! You know, I thought this will just be something like a few months ‘holiday’ where I go for treatments, then I’ll be out soon enough.”
Nobody would have expected that he was that 10 percent.
Instead of shrinking, the tumour grew from 8cm to 13.5cm. By this time, the cancer cells had began to spread to his other organs—the worst sign of any cancer. The 10 rounds of chemotherapy, which comprised of R-EPOCH therapy, and another stronger, RICE therapy, had failed.
As he went on to explain how chemotherapy works on cancer patients, Andrew added that it is something he would never wish upon anybody.
“It lives up to its reputation as a very uncomfortable process.”
The side effects of chemotherapy varies for each person. For Andrew, the sessions completely sucked the life out of him and made it impossible to palate anything. “I would eat and then ‘Merlion’ everything out.”
Besides the nausea, lethargy, and hair loss, there was also a general uneasiness in his body which he could only describe as “an oily feeling,” and “it’s like your body is rejecting [what’s being done to it]”
COMING TO TERMS WITH THE TRUTH
When he saw the PET scan and heard the doctor’s remarks, his first thoughts were: “So how long more do I have left?”
“I don’t want to be in a situation where I haven’t said my goodbyes and I haven’t done my final things before I pass away.”
Any cancer patient would have mentally prepared themselves for the worst, but knowing that the worst that they could expect came true is another thing altogether. The news gutted Andrew and his family.
A Christian, he had on many occasions questioned why God allowed this to happen to him. He questioned why it had to be him. Why it had to be cancer.
Acceptance only came later, and it came from the pain that he had to go through.
“There was one night I really thought I was really going to die.”
He recounted to me about the night a bad coughing fit left him curled up into a ball on his bed. Besides the physical pain he felt at his ribs and the stars he was seeing from it, it also broke his heart to see his mother crying by his bedside.
“My mum said that she wished she could take the pain from me. She said that she wished she could be the one who had cancer instead of me. For me, for a child to see your mother crying for you so helplessly, it was so painful.”
In our generation, a lot of us spend long hours at work or with our friends. It was no different for Andrew. Looking back at the times he had placed work and friends above time with his family, his biggest regret is not having spent enough time with his mother.
“Ultimately, during the most difficult time of my life it was my mum who sat at the side of my bed. She cannot do anything but sit there and cry, but it’s this kind of relationship that [reminds me that this is something] we should never compromise.”
WHEN YOU’RE IN THE FACE OF DEATH
Andrew’s everyday life now revolves around rest. His therapies leave him with little energy for anything else. Besides the 16 or 17 hours of sleep he needs a day, he spends his time on simple pleasures like reading, catching up with friends, or fulfilling his wanderlust through travel shows on Netflix.
Since the traditional treatment of chemotherapy has failed, he has gone on to alternative therapies, which works slower and have a lower success rate. And because his is an aggressive cancer, it is now a race against time—for the alternative therapy to save him before the cancer takes his life.
However, the prognosis, or ‘time till death’ is not something that the doctors can determine as he is on a relatively new treatment. If it does not work, he will only have up to six months to live.
“The truth for cancer patients is that we cling on to every bit of hope if possible because otherwise, there’s really nothing else to cling on to anymore.”
Hope. It is the one thing that keeps Andrew alive despite being in the face of death. Besides, cancer is unlike the common cough and flu, where you know recovery is only a matter of time with the help of medications.
Reflecting on his journey, he tells me about how the worst part is when the doctor looks at him with a look of defeat—when they look like they have no idea what else to do.
“It’s the absence of hope that makes cancer patients lose all sense of life.
The fear of death is what makes people struggle with coming to terms with being terminally ill, he explained, and stressed the importance of seeing death as a happy closure. The change in mindset and the understanding that death is one end to the pain and suffering is what helped him accept death.
Screen capture taken from Andrew Hui’s Facebook page
LAST WORDS: PRIORITISE HAPPINESS & HOLD ON TO HOPE
As someone who used to be extremely health conscious, Andrew joked about how he regrets not living life previously. “I used to actively clamp down on a lot of things believing that I have my health under my control. I should have just eaten whatever I want!”
Lymphoma, however, is one of those mysterious diseases that do not discriminate. He just happened to one who has it.
“I think we should live our life as happy as possible. Make a commitment to live as happy as possible. Happiness is now. Happiness is eating dinner with friends and family instead of doing paperwork at 9pm thinking that your boss and company will appreciate.”
For those who are also terminally ill, “Never stop fighting. Fighting on is a big part of fighting cancer.”
Many patients get very depressed and scared as they fear the ultimate result of cancer: death. However, one needs to believe that there is light at the end of the tunnel and believe that the pain will end.
“You need to believe that it will not be darkness when you close your eyes for the last time. [For me,] that is the hope I need to cling on to because otherwise I will fall into depression.”
Even loved ones will not be able to help in this journey, for it is a very personal battle when it comes to accepting death.
“We need to cling on to something larger and stronger than ourselves,” Andrew emphasised.
“The moment we give up hope, the battle is lost.”
Editor’s Note: Andrew passed away peacefully at 11:25pm on 31 August 2019. We’d like to extend our heartfelt condolences to Andrew’s family and friends.
Lim Bei Ling
May 22, 2019
“It’s the absence of hope that makes cancer patients lose all sense of life.”
At 32, Andrew has only about four to six months to live, should his current treatments fail. He has Aggressive Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and it isn’t the first time medical treatments have failed on him. He had already gone through 10 rounds of what is supposed to be the most effective, available chemotherapy for his case, only for the cancer cells to return with a vengeance.
Within the span of less than a year, he has gone from optimistic and hopeful to terminally ill.
When I first met Andrew about 9 years ago, he was an assistant producer at the place I interned at. In short, just an ordinary, healthy person who is few years my senior. Yet, when I met him at a cafe near his home earlier last week, he had to walk with the help of a cane. What used to be the physique of a sportsman is now this frail person with a slight hunchback, pallid face, and a bare head, save for a soft fuzz of hair that has started to regrow.
He was first diagnosed with stage 1 Aggressive Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a type of cancer that affects certain types of immune system cells, last June. The tumour has since grown to a point where he is unable to ‘survive’ without the use of morphine. The tumour growth near his lungs presses on his rib cage every time he takes a breath, causing him immense pain.
Andrew needs to take Morphine every few hours as the medication numbs the constant pain he is in
Image Credit: Andrew Hui
‘Pain patches’ like the one pictured above also helps to relieve the pain
Image Credit: Andrew Hui
Back then, it was only by pure coincidence that the doctor stumbled upon the tumor.
STAGE 1 ONLY, NO BIGGIE
It was only when Andrew checked himself into A&E for a high fever one night when they found out.
He had gone to the hospital as a precautionary measure, as he had a history with Pneumothorax (collapsed lung). Fearing complications that could have arose from the major surgery he did for Pneumothorax prior, the doctors ran some x-ray tests on him. The tests returned with signs of a tumour growth at the upper part of his chest.
Further biopsy tests identified it as stage 1 Lymphoma.
“Back then, the doctors were super confident—it wasn’t a complicated case. 90 percent of people who had this [cancer] at this stage have been cured.”
With that assurance and his strong belief in the medical system, he proceeded with the recommended treatments—chemotherapy—confident that it was nothing to worry about.
“I had great trust in our medical treatments. Like eh, stage one [only], what is this man! You know, I thought this will just be something like a few months ‘holiday’ where I go for treatments, then I’ll be out soon enough.”
Nobody would have expected that he was that 10 percent.
Instead of shrinking, the tumour grew from 8cm to 13.5cm. By this time, the cancer cells had began to spread to his other organs—the worst sign of any cancer. The 10 rounds of chemotherapy, which comprised of R-EPOCH therapy, and another stronger, RICE therapy, had failed.
As he went on to explain how chemotherapy works on cancer patients, Andrew added that it is something he would never wish upon anybody.
“It lives up to its reputation as a very uncomfortable process.”
The side effects of chemotherapy varies for each person. For Andrew, the sessions completely sucked the life out of him and made it impossible to palate anything. “I would eat and then ‘Merlion’ everything out.”
Besides the nausea, lethargy, and hair loss, there was also a general uneasiness in his body which he could only describe as “an oily feeling,” and “it’s like your body is rejecting [what’s being done to it]”
COMING TO TERMS WITH THE TRUTH
When he saw the PET scan and heard the doctor’s remarks, his first thoughts were: “So how long more do I have left?”
“I don’t want to be in a situation where I haven’t said my goodbyes and I haven’t done my final things before I pass away.”
Any cancer patient would have mentally prepared themselves for the worst, but knowing that the worst that they could expect came true is another thing altogether. The news gutted Andrew and his family.
A Christian, he had on many occasions questioned why God allowed this to happen to him. He questioned why it had to be him. Why it had to be cancer.
Acceptance only came later, and it came from the pain that he had to go through.
“There was one night I really thought I was really going to die.”
He recounted to me about the night a bad coughing fit left him curled up into a ball on his bed. Besides the physical pain he felt at his ribs and the stars he was seeing from it, it also broke his heart to see his mother crying by his bedside.
“My mum said that she wished she could take the pain from me. She said that she wished she could be the one who had cancer instead of me. For me, for a child to see your mother crying for you so helplessly, it was so painful.”
In our generation, a lot of us spend long hours at work or with our friends. It was no different for Andrew. Looking back at the times he had placed work and friends above time with his family, his biggest regret is not having spent enough time with his mother.
“Ultimately, during the most difficult time of my life it was my mum who sat at the side of my bed. She cannot do anything but sit there and cry, but it’s this kind of relationship that [reminds me that this is something] we should never compromise.”
WHEN YOU’RE IN THE FACE OF DEATH
Andrew’s everyday life now revolves around rest. His therapies leave him with little energy for anything else. Besides the 16 or 17 hours of sleep he needs a day, he spends his time on simple pleasures like reading, catching up with friends, or fulfilling his wanderlust through travel shows on Netflix.
Since the traditional treatment of chemotherapy has failed, he has gone on to alternative therapies, which works slower and have a lower success rate. And because his is an aggressive cancer, it is now a race against time—for the alternative therapy to save him before the cancer takes his life.
However, the prognosis, or ‘time till death’ is not something that the doctors can determine as he is on a relatively new treatment. If it does not work, he will only have up to six months to live.
“The truth for cancer patients is that we cling on to every bit of hope if possible because otherwise, there’s really nothing else to cling on to anymore.”
Hope. It is the one thing that keeps Andrew alive despite being in the face of death. Besides, cancer is unlike the common cough and flu, where you know recovery is only a matter of time with the help of medications.
Reflecting on his journey, he tells me about how the worst part is when the doctor looks at him with a look of defeat—when they look like they have no idea what else to do.
“It’s the absence of hope that makes cancer patients lose all sense of life.
The fear of death is what makes people struggle with coming to terms with being terminally ill, he explained, and stressed the importance of seeing death as a happy closure. The change in mindset and the understanding that death is one end to the pain and suffering is what helped him accept death.
Screen capture taken from Andrew Hui’s Facebook page
LAST WORDS: PRIORITISE HAPPINESS & HOLD ON TO HOPE
As someone who used to be extremely health conscious, Andrew joked about how he regrets not living life previously. “I used to actively clamp down on a lot of things believing that I have my health under my control. I should have just eaten whatever I want!”
Lymphoma, however, is one of those mysterious diseases that do not discriminate. He just happened to one who has it.
“I think we should live our life as happy as possible. Make a commitment to live as happy as possible. Happiness is now. Happiness is eating dinner with friends and family instead of doing paperwork at 9pm thinking that your boss and company will appreciate.”
For those who are also terminally ill, “Never stop fighting. Fighting on is a big part of fighting cancer.”
Many patients get very depressed and scared as they fear the ultimate result of cancer: death. However, one needs to believe that there is light at the end of the tunnel and believe that the pain will end.
“You need to believe that it will not be darkness when you close your eyes for the last time. [For me,] that is the hope I need to cling on to because otherwise I will fall into depression.”
Even loved ones will not be able to help in this journey, for it is a very personal battle when it comes to accepting death.
“We need to cling on to something larger and stronger than ourselves,” Andrew emphasised.
“The moment we give up hope, the battle is lost.”
Editor’s Note: Andrew passed away peacefully at 11:25pm on 31 August 2019. We’d like to extend our heartfelt condolences to Andrew’s family and friends.
Thursday, January 24, 2019
Gone too soon, Y and A
It is heartbreaking seeing young souls unable to make it for reunion dinners forever.
2 lives gone within few days. I am thinking of how to get completely away from news and media till things subside, so that I won't sink into gloom.
2 lives gone within few days. I am thinking of how to get completely away from news and media till things subside, so that I won't sink into gloom.
Monday, October 22, 2018
Court 22
| Case Number | Date Of Hearing | Time Of Hearing | Location | Description | Defence Counsel |
| CI-000895-2017 | 23/10/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Chua Hock Guan | |
| CI-000831-2017 | 29/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Koh Khim Hock | |
| CI-001060-2016 | 23/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Poh Ah Gin | Tan Zhi Peng Benny (TRIDENT LAW CORPORATION) NATVERLAL DEEPAK (CROWN JURIS LAW LLC) |
| CI-002414-2017 | 22/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Tan Geok Eng | |
| SC-912054-2014 | 1/11/2018 | 02.30 PM | Court 22 | PP vs Tang Keng Lai | ANG SIN TECK (BELINDA ANG TANG & PARTNERS) |
| SC-912067-2014 | 1/11/2018 | 02.30 PM | Court 22 | PP vs Loo Yew Tek | LOY WEE SUN (LOY & COMPANY) SNG KHENG HUAT (SNG & CO.) CHIA KOK SENG (KSCGP JURIS LLP) |
| CI-001571-2018 | 31/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Siti Nur Ain Binte Muhamad | |
| CI-002245-2017 | 24/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Lim Huang Shen Eugene | |
| CI-001544-2018 | 1/11/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Lim Kuie Lam | |
| CI-001480-2018 | 25/10/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Low Hong Chong | |
| CI-002061-2017 | 2/11/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Yap Peng Soon | |
| CI-001529-2018 | 30/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Oh Gim Guan | |
| CI-000893-2017 | 29/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Slemat Bin Rakisan | |
| CI-000608-2018 | 24/10/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Lee Simon | |
| CI-003180-2017 | 26/10/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Tan Kim Hong | |
| CI-001332-2018 | 22/10/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Lim Ah Kim | |
| CI-003964-2017 | 30/10/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Magendran Kisnasami | |
| CI-001462-2018 | 29/10/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Lee Choon Kee | |
| CI-001536-2018 | 1/11/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Abdul Aziz Bin Peer Hajimeerasa | |
| CI-003044-2017 | 31/10/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Lee Swee Loong (Li Ruilong) | CHEE FEI JOSEPHINE (RAJAH & TANN SINGAPORE LLP) |
Wednesday, August 8, 2018
Court 22
| Case Number | Date Of Hearing | Time Of Hearing | Location | Description |
| CI-004086-2017 | 6/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Apandi Bin Kassim |
| CI-000485-2018 | 6/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Tuminah Bte Haron |
| CI-000796-2018 | 7/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Sabtu Bin Samat |
| CI-000526-2017 | 7/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Lee Then Huan |
| CI-000515-2018 | 7/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Lee Yau Koo |
| CI-000213-2018 | 8/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Ahmed Mohamed Mohamed Saad |
| CI-000525-2018 | 8/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Baiq Yulasmini |
| CI-002381-2017 | 8/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Liu Jing Rui |
| CI-000518-2018 | 10/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Mohamad Farees Bin Sujahi |
| CI-000626-2018 | 13/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Chiang Kwai Onn |
| CI-002013-2017 | 13/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Venice Ong Xiao Wen |
| CI-000671-2018 | 13/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Tan Kian Huat |
| CI-000969-2018 | 14/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | ONG JIA MIN, EILEEN |
| CI-000744-2018 | 14/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Roslan Bin Mohamed Yusop |
| CI-000628-2018 | 14/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Mohd Sani Bin Bangi |
| SC-902857-2016 | 14/8/2018 | 12.30 PM | Court 22 | PP vs Syed Abdul Rahman Bin Syed Mohsin |
| CI-002933-2017 | 15/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Stephen Begley |
| CI-000083-2018 | 15/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Zulhilmi Bin Mohd |
| CI-003125-2017 | 15/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Kamruzzaman Mohammad |
| CI-000695-2018 | 16/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Lhin Nei Kim |
| CI-002314-2016 | 16/8/2018 | 04.00 PM | Court 22 | Rohaidah Binte Rahim |
| CI-004141-2017 | 16/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Eka Choong Yijia |
| CI-003987-2017 | 16/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Nurul Filzah Syazwani Binte Abdul Rahim |
| CI-003986-2017 | 16/8/2018 | 11.00 AM | Court 22 | Mohamed Khairulanwar Bin Mohamed Sani |
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
SCDF NSF death: Corporal Kok Yuen Chin’s last conversation with his father
16 May 2018 09:00PM
Channel NewsAsia
KRUBONG, Melaka: The father of the late Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF) full-time national serviceman Kok Yuen Chin said the last contact he had with his son was a discussion about dinner, more than a month before he died on Sunday (May 13).
Mr Kok Meng Hua, 56, was speaking to Channel NewsAsia on Wednesday, at his son’s wake in the quiet Melaka suburb of Krubong. Mr Kok works six days a week doing construction in Singapore, with Sunday being his only day off.
“What are you doing today? Are you working?” Mr Kok recalled asking his son after knocking off early that day. As a firefighter at Tuas View Fire Station, Yuen Chin worked one 24-hour shift followed by two days off. That day was his day off, he replied.
“Want to have dinner together?” Mr Kok continued, suggesting their usual hawker centre in Bukit Panjang, where Mr Kok lives.
Yuen Chin hesitated. He had a buffet date with his girlfriend. By then he had moved out of his dad’s place to live independently with her in a rented room in Jurong. It was nearer to his Tuas workplace.
Yuen Chin invited his dad along for the buffet, but Mr Kok declined. He’d had a rough day at work, so he wanted a proper meal with rice. Another day then, Mr Kok remembered he said.
Yuen Chin was just a month away from his Operationally Ready Date (ORD) and Mr Kok thought there would be more opportunities to have a dinner with him and discuss the next chapter of his son’s life.
But the next chapter never came. And so that was the last time Mr Kok heard from his son.
On Sunday night, Yuen Chin was found unconscious at the bottom of a 12m pump well at his fire station. Eleven metres of the well had been filled with water. Yuen Chin was rushed to a hospital, but was pronounced dead.
When Mr Kok visited the well to pray and leave offerings, he was shocked by its narrow diameter and sheer depth. "How could he have a chance to survive?" Mr Kok said.
Mr Kok’s younger sister Helen, 55, said the family wants answers. Did anyone jump in the moment they realised Yuen Chin was not coming up?
While investigations into how exactly Yuen Chin ended up in the well are still ongoing, SCDF has said that it was part of activities to celebrate his impending ORD.
For closure, Ms Kok said the family wants to watch CCTV footage of the incident, but she added that it’s unclear if they will be able to. “I just want to know how they tried to save my son,” Mr Kok said.
INDEPENDENT, HELPFUL BOY
Whenever Yuen Chin returned home to Melaka, which was about twice a month, he never hesitated to help around the house. “After dinner he automatically washes the plates, wipes the table and sweeps the floor," Ms Kok said.
Yuen Chin would take S$600 out of his salary to give to his mother, who lives in Melaka. Then he would take his siblings out to the mall, treating them to movies and ice cream.
The last time he went home was on Malaysia’s polling day on May 9. He didn’t vote, but wanted to accompany his girlfriend who was going to. Mr Kok didn't go back because he couldn't take time off work. It was then that Yuen Chin told family members he wanted to work as an auxiliary police officer.
Mr Kok had asked Yuen Chin if he wanted to sign on as a firefighter. He entertained the idea, but said he didn’t have the necessary academic qualifications. When Mr Kok asked Yuen Chin to approach his superiors for a recommendation, he said he didn’t want to trouble them.
This self-reliant attitude is also what made him so endearing, Ms Kok said. “When he had difficulty with his studies, he never told his parents,” she added.
"He loved his mother very much," Mr Kok said.
THE OTHER CALL
It was about 9.50pm on Sunday when Mr Kok, in an express bus on his way back to Singapore, was first told of the incident.
Every week on Saturday night after work, Mr Kok goes back to Melaka to see his wife. He rides his motorcycle across the border, parks it at Larkin in Johor and takes a bus home. On Sunday night, he does the same, but in the other direction.
“Can you come to Ng Teng Fong General Hospital now?” he was told. “What happened?” he probed. The other person on the line would only say that his son had fainted in a pool.
His heart raced. Mr Kok knew his son hated the water and couldn't swim. And it would still be hours before he reached Johor, let alone Singapore. Mr Kok called his sister and asked her to go to the hospital. “I asked her to call me when my son regained consciousness,” he said.
He only reached Johor at midnight. There was still no call. He rode his motorcycle with one fist clenched around his phone. “If it rang, I would quickly pull over and answer,” he said. The call never came. “That was when I knew my son was no more.”
Mr Kok parked his bike at home and took a taxi to the hospital because he didn’t know where to park. He called his sister. “How is my son now?” he pressed. Ms Kok wouldn’t answer. “Twice I asked and her voice changed,” he said. “I only knew it wasn’t good.”
When the taxi pulled in, Mr Kok said at least three SCDF officers were waiting. They led him into a room, where a doctor told him “we did our best but could not save your son".
Yuen Chin was in a neck brace and had some cuts on his face, Mr Kok said. “Your papa is here now,” he could only say.
HIS JOURNEY
Like a lot of kids, Yuen Chin grew up playing football with his neighbours on a field just in front of his house. He would also be glued to his phone playing games, Mr Kok said with a smile.
After finishing the equivalent of his polytechnic diploma in Malaysia, Yuen Chin decided to pursue citizenship so he could work in Singapore. Mr Kok had offered to pay for him to further his studies, but he refused.
When he got enlisted into the SCDF, Mr Kok joked that it would be easier than serving in the army. “Even if it’s tough, I’ll still do it,” Yuen Chin said. “I just want to finish the two years.”
Yuen Chin graduated from the Civil Defence Academy as a firefighter and lived with his dad for about a year. During the time they bunked together, they talked about work.
Because the fire station was so remote, Yuen Chin would round up orders from his colleagues and buy back food for them, a job that he said newbies had to do. And because the fire station was so remote, Yuen Chin didn’t have that many cases to attend.
“Where did you go today? Wash oil off the roads?” Mr Kok would joke. Yuen Chin would insist that he still fought fires, at factories in places like Yew Tee.
Mr Kok felt good about Yuen Chin eking out a future in Singapore. “I have always thought of Singapore as a safe place,” he said. “It’s not like overseas, where there might be a lot of trouble.”
When Yuen Chin moved out to live with his girlfriend, Mr Kok gave him more freedom. “I didn’t want to call every day; he was earning an income,” he said. “He had already grown up.”
He said that Yuen Chin and his girlfriend would often come over for dinner.
“I was just happy that he had finished his two years,” he added. “I also thought of asking about his plans after ORD: Are you finding work? Are you coming back to the kampung for a week?
“I just didn’t have the chance to ask.”
Channel NewsAsia
A photo of Corporal Kok Yuen Chin displayed at his wake in Melaka. (Photo: Aqil Haziq Mahmud)
KRUBONG, Melaka: The father of the late Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF) full-time national serviceman Kok Yuen Chin said the last contact he had with his son was a discussion about dinner, more than a month before he died on Sunday (May 13).
Mr Kok Meng Hua, 56, was speaking to Channel NewsAsia on Wednesday, at his son’s wake in the quiet Melaka suburb of Krubong. Mr Kok works six days a week doing construction in Singapore, with Sunday being his only day off.
“What are you doing today? Are you working?” Mr Kok recalled asking his son after knocking off early that day. As a firefighter at Tuas View Fire Station, Yuen Chin worked one 24-hour shift followed by two days off. That day was his day off, he replied.
“Want to have dinner together?” Mr Kok continued, suggesting their usual hawker centre in Bukit Panjang, where Mr Kok lives.
Yuen Chin hesitated. He had a buffet date with his girlfriend. By then he had moved out of his dad’s place to live independently with her in a rented room in Jurong. It was nearer to his Tuas workplace.
Yuen Chin invited his dad along for the buffet, but Mr Kok declined. He’d had a rough day at work, so he wanted a proper meal with rice. Another day then, Mr Kok remembered he said.
Yuen Chin was just a month away from his Operationally Ready Date (ORD) and Mr Kok thought there would be more opportunities to have a dinner with him and discuss the next chapter of his son’s life.
But the next chapter never came. And so that was the last time Mr Kok heard from his son.
On Sunday night, Yuen Chin was found unconscious at the bottom of a 12m pump well at his fire station. Eleven metres of the well had been filled with water. Yuen Chin was rushed to a hospital, but was pronounced dead.
When Mr Kok visited the well to pray and leave offerings, he was shocked by its narrow diameter and sheer depth. "How could he have a chance to survive?" Mr Kok said.
Mr Kok’s younger sister Helen, 55, said the family wants answers. Did anyone jump in the moment they realised Yuen Chin was not coming up?
While investigations into how exactly Yuen Chin ended up in the well are still ongoing, SCDF has said that it was part of activities to celebrate his impending ORD.
For closure, Ms Kok said the family wants to watch CCTV footage of the incident, but she added that it’s unclear if they will be able to. “I just want to know how they tried to save my son,” Mr Kok said.
INDEPENDENT, HELPFUL BOY
Whenever Yuen Chin returned home to Melaka, which was about twice a month, he never hesitated to help around the house. “After dinner he automatically washes the plates, wipes the table and sweeps the floor," Ms Kok said.
Yuen Chin would take S$600 out of his salary to give to his mother, who lives in Melaka. Then he would take his siblings out to the mall, treating them to movies and ice cream.
The last time he went home was on Malaysia’s polling day on May 9. He didn’t vote, but wanted to accompany his girlfriend who was going to. Mr Kok didn't go back because he couldn't take time off work. It was then that Yuen Chin told family members he wanted to work as an auxiliary police officer.
Mr Kok had asked Yuen Chin if he wanted to sign on as a firefighter. He entertained the idea, but said he didn’t have the necessary academic qualifications. When Mr Kok asked Yuen Chin to approach his superiors for a recommendation, he said he didn’t want to trouble them.
This self-reliant attitude is also what made him so endearing, Ms Kok said. “When he had difficulty with his studies, he never told his parents,” she added.
"He loved his mother very much," Mr Kok said.
THE OTHER CALL
It was about 9.50pm on Sunday when Mr Kok, in an express bus on his way back to Singapore, was first told of the incident.
Every week on Saturday night after work, Mr Kok goes back to Melaka to see his wife. He rides his motorcycle across the border, parks it at Larkin in Johor and takes a bus home. On Sunday night, he does the same, but in the other direction.
“Can you come to Ng Teng Fong General Hospital now?” he was told. “What happened?” he probed. The other person on the line would only say that his son had fainted in a pool.
His heart raced. Mr Kok knew his son hated the water and couldn't swim. And it would still be hours before he reached Johor, let alone Singapore. Mr Kok called his sister and asked her to go to the hospital. “I asked her to call me when my son regained consciousness,” he said.
He only reached Johor at midnight. There was still no call. He rode his motorcycle with one fist clenched around his phone. “If it rang, I would quickly pull over and answer,” he said. The call never came. “That was when I knew my son was no more.”
Mr Kok at his son's wake. (Photo: Aqil Haziq Mahmud)
Mr Kok parked his bike at home and took a taxi to the hospital because he didn’t know where to park. He called his sister. “How is my son now?” he pressed. Ms Kok wouldn’t answer. “Twice I asked and her voice changed,” he said. “I only knew it wasn’t good.”
When the taxi pulled in, Mr Kok said at least three SCDF officers were waiting. They led him into a room, where a doctor told him “we did our best but could not save your son".
Yuen Chin was in a neck brace and had some cuts on his face, Mr Kok said. “Your papa is here now,” he could only say.
HIS JOURNEY
Like a lot of kids, Yuen Chin grew up playing football with his neighbours on a field just in front of his house. He would also be glued to his phone playing games, Mr Kok said with a smile.
After finishing the equivalent of his polytechnic diploma in Malaysia, Yuen Chin decided to pursue citizenship so he could work in Singapore. Mr Kok had offered to pay for him to further his studies, but he refused.
When he got enlisted into the SCDF, Mr Kok joked that it would be easier than serving in the army. “Even if it’s tough, I’ll still do it,” Yuen Chin said. “I just want to finish the two years.”
Yuen Chin graduated from the Civil Defence Academy as a firefighter and lived with his dad for about a year. During the time they bunked together, they talked about work.
Because the fire station was so remote, Yuen Chin would round up orders from his colleagues and buy back food for them, a job that he said newbies had to do. And because the fire station was so remote, Yuen Chin didn’t have that many cases to attend.
“Where did you go today? Wash oil off the roads?” Mr Kok would joke. Yuen Chin would insist that he still fought fires, at factories in places like Yew Tee.
Mr Kok felt good about Yuen Chin eking out a future in Singapore. “I have always thought of Singapore as a safe place,” he said. “It’s not like overseas, where there might be a lot of trouble.”
Flowers the SCDF left at the wake. (Photo: Aqil Haziq Mahmud)
When Yuen Chin moved out to live with his girlfriend, Mr Kok gave him more freedom. “I didn’t want to call every day; he was earning an income,” he said. “He had already grown up.”
He said that Yuen Chin and his girlfriend would often come over for dinner.
“I was just happy that he had finished his two years,” he added. “I also thought of asking about his plans after ORD: Are you finding work? Are you coming back to the kampung for a week?
“I just didn’t have the chance to ask.”
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