It is hoped that with a positive ruling from the High Court, cases such as these can be prevented in future:

• In 1983, when the Havelock seat became vacant, then PM Lee Kuan Yew said: “There is no reason why the people of Havelock should have a by-election. There is no reason why anybody should be looking after Havelock under the Constitution. There is no reason at all.”

• In Nov 1986, the Anson seat was vacated after WP MP, JB Jeyaretnam, was disqualified from holding the seat. In his answer to opposition member Chiam See Tong’s query in Parliament, Minister S Dhanabalan said then: “He [JB Jeyaretnam] has been convicted of a criminal offence and fined and sent to jail. They [Anson constituents] have to learn to live with the consequences of their choice.”

• And in Dec 1986, the Geylang West seat became vacant after its MP, Teh Cheang Wan, committed suicide. Then DPM Goh Chok Tong explained that there would be no by-election in the ward because the government was “contemplating introducing a Bill to form Town Councils.”

While the courts have ruled that she had no case and have dismissed her application, nonetheless the latest ruling by Justice Pillai on Friday (2 Nov) – that she will not be made to pay costs for bringing the case to the courts even if she loses – is a significant one.

In his ruling (‘Hougang by-election case: Historic decision by Justice Pillai‘), Justice Pillai determined that this public law issue was a matter of general importance. The judge also said that “where a matter raises a legal question of genuine public concern, it may be inappropriate to make a cost order against the applicant even where the judicial review is unsuccessful.”

The Attorney General had earlier wanted the courts to order Mdm Vellama to pay $10,000 in costs since her application was dismissed.

The ruling is a victory of sorts for citizens who bring cases of public interest before the courts. Hence, in future, citizens will not be prevented from doing so because of fear of having to pay crippling costs if they lose.

“It’s important that ordinary people don’t bottle up their frustrations in their hearts,” Mdm Vellama said in reaction to Justice Pillai’s decision, “but they must bring these issues out to society through the courts.”

Since she brought the case to the courts in Mar through her counsel Mr M Ravi, Mdm Vellama has stuck resolutely to her position, determined that as a Singaporean citizen, she should not be denied the right to elect her parliamentary representative. It is not known for sure if her court application had prompted the PM to in fact, call a by-election in the vacated seat of Hougang eventually, but the case certainly brought into focus the ruling party’s historical record of preferring not to hold by-elections as described above. Mdm Vellama’s case may now have changed this preference of the ruling party.

“Many housewives whom I meet at the wet market are now cheering me on,” Mdm Vellama said.

But taking on such cases is not an easy thing to do, especially for someone like Mdm Vellama who does not have a highly-paid job, and who still depends on help schemes to get by.

Without the help of lawyer M Ravi who took on her case pro-bono, she would not have been able to raise the matter in the courts.

Mr Ravi himself has had to pay for the costs himself, which amounts to thousands of dollars. The current costs – which include mainly court filing fees – already amounts to $3,000. With the case now going to the appeals court (‘Hougang by-election case: Appeal filed against High Court’s decision‘), a further $3,000 would be incurred for appeals court filings.

“I am extremely elated to know that I’ve got this protection from the court,” Mdm Vellam said on Friday. “However, I may need some public support to continue this effort to the Court of Appeal on behalf of the public due to the expense of filing fees which are accumulating and anticipated to reach about $6000.”

Often, such battles are fought individually; often the hard work is kept from the public eye. Mr Ravi, for example, has spent days and nights working on the case, which is only one of several which he has taken up pro bono. While we may cheer and express our support from afar, by writing articles or posting comments online, perhaps it is time for us to put our money where our mouths are and do one better – and show our support by donating to the cause.

She does not fight for herself. She fights on our behalf. We should not let her carry the burden alone.

It’s time for us to do our part.

------------------------

Editor's note:

1. TRE is not collecting donations on behalf of Mdm Vellama as we do not have the means to do so. All contributions should be deposited directly into her POSB account 405098440 (Vellama d/o Marie Muthu) or contact her counsel Mr M Ravi (mravilaw1@gmail.com or +65 6533-7433) from the law firm of Messer L. F. Violet Netto for enquiries.

2. Previously, it has been estimated that a sum of $50,000 may be required (‘Mdm Vellama appeals for legal fund in respect of Hougang by-election case appeal‘) because cost payments were taken into account assuming Mdm Vellama loses both the High Court and Appeals Court cases and was ordered to pay costs. But now with the new ruling from Justice Pillai, litigants will be protected from paying costs should he or she loses the court case when it is fought for public interests. Hence, Mdm Vellama needs not worry about paying costs anymore even if she loses the appeal. The only legal fees she has to content with are the filing fees. Mr M Ravi said he will continue to represent her on pro-bono basis even for the appeal process. So, his fees are waived. Hence, it appears that she will only need to contend with the $6,000 filing fees.

3. In the previous appeal for fund, Mr Ravi told TRE that a total of $1,280 was deposited into Mdm Vellama’s account. Hence, a further $4,720 will still be needed.

4. Some TRE readers have asked if it’s possible for Mr Ravi or his law firm to receive the donations instead. Mr Ravi told TRE that due to strict rules governing the conduct of lawyers in Singapore, it is difficult for Mr Ravi to do so as he will have to account for the money. Hence, giving the money to Mdm Vellama directly so that she in turn pay Mr Ravi’s law firm for the filing charges will be the most clear cut, since Mdm Vellama is Mr Ravi’s client. In any case, please contact Mr Ravi should you have further queries on this issue.

There is Pek, a man who makes his life as bland as it can be, who removes from it any trace of colour, emotion or personality, and also tries to erase his wife. Then there is Chris the drummer, who lives an accelerated life in a haze of sex and lust, only to find it screeching to a halt; Ah Pin, the retired prison officer, grapples with the emptiness and futility of life, and decides to walk away, never to return; Melanie a writer finds words inexplicably disappearing from her manuscript; and Dominic who is drowning in debt and has to contend with strangers showing up at his flat asking for a 10th floor that doesn’t exist.

As each story comes to an end, questions linger in the air. Questions that stir the imagination and leave one feeling on the edge—of life and death, of sanity and insanity, of a realm in which the logic of this world no longer applies, or of a moment in which everything changes—looking into the lives, and vanishing points, of the characters.

Publichouse.sg: Three hundred people vanish without a trace every year in Singapore. To get under the skin of this book you researched these missing persons. How did you feel, looking at their photos and wondering about their lives?

Felix Cheong: To say I was haunted by these people is an understatement! I would focus on the missing people with an intriguing detail that seemed to suggest a back story, something left unfinished or unsaid. Then I would work my way back. For instance, Ah Pin, in ‘Life Sentence’, is based on an elderly man who disappeared after he told his wife he was going downstairs to buy newspapers. For weeks, I kept looking at his picture, wondering why he disappeared, what his life was like before and after. Slowly, I assembled a character based on this. I would even dream of him, waking up with a eureka moment about why he did what he did. In a way, it’s literary forensics.

Publichouse.sg: Your book isn’t about these real-life people or their histories though. It explores absences, unanswered questions, voids and spaces in-between the real and unreal, the living and the dead. Why did you choose to write about this?

Felix Cheong: Vanishing Point explores themes I have previously explored in my poetry. I think these voids, spaces in-between the real and unreal and the living and the dead are creatively provocative because in our day-to-day existence, we hide them, don’t talk about them, do our best to ignore them.

Publichouse.sg: The supernatural occurs in a few stories. Why is this so prevalent in Singapore writing?

My stories are not so much suffused with the supernatural as the surreal and the absurd. There is no ‘ghost’, as it were, in any of the stories. Even Wong, in ‘True Singapore Ghost Story’ (a tongue-in-cheek spoof of Russell Lee’s bestselling books), is not really a ghost but a zombie who has lost the will to live, having bought into the whole Singapore narrative of meritocracy and found himself shortchanged by it.

Publichouse.sg: There is no redemption in many of the stories. Your characters fall off the edge, disconnect themselves or die in mysterious circumstances. Were you drawn to these types of endings?

Felix Cheong: Well, there is redemption, in some fashion, in ‘Melanie & Molly’, as both characters realise at the end that they have to learn how to be true to themselves. I wrote this story specially for my wife, Georgette, because she felt that the collection was getting too bleak.

It’s a misconception that writers force a certain kind of ending on their characters. Character is destiny. Once I’ve picked the characters and set the scenario, they write and will their own outcome, their own endings. For instance, in ‘In the Dark’, Pek is so obsessed with white and cleanliness (a political metaphor) that he literally cannot see the woods for the trees. In his worldview, nothing else matters but to clean spots, clear up mess. So he even turns his wife white, erasing her. For me to engineer another ending would have been out of character for him.

Publichouse.sg: What was it like to write prose after being so accustomed to writing poetry?

Felix Cheong: As I did when I wrote my two young adult novels in 2006–2007, I had to learn how to walk again. Poetry and prose require different skills—the former needs the ability to crystallise an emotion or thought succinctly, the latter the ability to embed and flesh out a believable character in a story.

The language part came first and was easier; I could pen a turn of phrase that cut a character to the quick. But the storytelling part came in later, after much heaving and shoving. In fact, I had to leave the manuscript alone for more than six months so that I could unlearn some of my poetry writing habits. Thankfully, at some point, the two skills came together.

Publichouse.sg: When you write a book, do you every worry about how it will sell?

Felix Cheong: I would be lying if I said I didn’t care. Every writer worries, of course, about sales, though that doesn’t necessarily drive the motivation to write. My philosophy has always been: Do it well, do it honestly, and the book will find its audience.

Vanishing Point will be launched on 10 Nov; Festival Pavilion, Campus Green, Singapore Management University; 3:30–4:30pm. Admission is free.

But I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

Before any one hold us up as a poster family for boosting Singapore’s birth rate or congratulates me for doing ‘national service’, let me say that neither Singapore’s birth rate nor national service were remotely a motivation for having a large family. Nor were any of our government’s pro-family policies, like Baby Bonus.

In fact, this is where I think the government is totally barking up the wrong tree.

If it wants people to have more kids, they need to come up with policies that make a difference in people’s lives. Not policies that are so afraid of creating dependency they veer in the other direction—and end up being crumbs from our Treasury’s table that might get you through a little bit, but leave fundamental issues unresolved. Which, essentially, is what Baby Bonus does. It relies hugely on parents’ ability to contribute to the scheme, so the poorer the parents are the less they benefit from it. Ironic isn’t it, when the people who need Baby Bonus the most are the poorest parents.

People have long-term needs; families and children require cheap and sustainable support for basic things like housing, education, and healthcare, not just discounts for a fixed period. I know of parents, as I’m sure others do too, who have children with special medical needs who could dearly, dearly use a ton of help for healthcare. Not Medisave, which again like Baby Bonus, depends on the parents’ ability to contribute, but just outright help based on the child’s needs.

And we need policies that don’t discriminate, that are not tied to social engineering or a national agenda. For instance, a working woman who has a baby and wants to carry on working afterwards needs maternity leave, needs maternity leave, needs maternity leave. That’s all there is to it. It’s not about whether she’s married or not.

And, no, if the government extends maternity benefits to all women, not just married women, single women are not going to rush out and get pregnant just to take advantage of this. This is such a ridiculous and irrational fear to harbour, not to mention an insulting and damaging one on which to base government policies, I really don’t understand why our highly educated government entertains it in the first place.

Settling for less?

For us, housing is the biggest challenge. Finding a home that can comfortably fit us all and that we can afford is proving to be quite a task! We would love a place that adequately meets the current needs of our family and allows some space for the children as they grow up. This means a four-bedroom property—which gives mum and dad one bedroom, two siblings a bedroom to share, and two other siblings each their own room. A proper four-bedroom property, not a shoebox home built for yield per square foot and not livability, where spaces the size of water closets are passed off as bedrooms—and then sold for sky-high prices. We don’t want or need anything fancy, we’d just like something livable and affordable. Needless to say, in Singapore, this is not easy to come by.

We could be persuaded to settle for less—if ‘less’ were actually more affordable, but it isn’t. Even ‘less’ in Singapore costs an arm and a leg! And we seem to have outgrown HDB flats; and even what HDB options remain for us—Jumbo flats or buying two adjacent units and merging them—are hard to pull off.

With our family’s current needs and our income, we have little if anything left over each month, which makes setting much cash aside for anything (down payment, COV, renovations, a car that can take us all etc.) a rarity. I would be bowled over if there were some government policy that could help here, but I don’t think there is.

Relief but…

To give credit where credit is due, IRAS’s child tax reliefs are generous—$4,000 per child and a further 15–25 percent off the income of working mothers. But again, the benefits have a backhanded side to them. Children of mothers who did not marry their father don’t qualify for child relief, and the working mothers’ child relief benefits women who are both high-income earners and have a large family, the most.

If you look at the examples IRAS uses on its website to illustrate this, that becomes clear. Example 1, says IRAS, talks about ‘Mrs Heng’ who has six children and earns $100,000 a year; and example 2, looks at ‘Mrs Lim’ who has eight children and earns $350,000 a year. Well. You’d be hard pressed to find women with that many children in Singapore (or anywhere these days, outside impoverished or religious communities that eschew birth control), and the ones that do are very, very unlikely to be making that amount of money. Why did IRAS come up with these slightly ridiculous examples then? Because it’s at that size of family and level of income that the working mothers’ child relief is optimal, which means that for the average earner, the tax savings isn’t very big.

I’m not complaining. In spite of not having a lot of security or assets, we have gone ahead with having a big family. We made this and other life choices, and we are living with them, getting by every month, generally content and counting our blessings. We derive a tremendous amount of joy from our family and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The richness in our life is unquantifiable and non-material.

But I was not in the least spurred on by any government benefit or policy or rhetoric to have a large family. And I can see why people aren’t. Because what the government does is provide bundles of straw when you need bricks for a foundation. And unless the marriage and parenthood measures coming up provide more fundamental support, families are pretty much on their own, still.

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Read also: "Forget raising birth rate, help parents instead".

It is thus no surprise that the government has since taken online discourse and engagement more seriously. The prime minister himself, for example, decided to wet his feet by setting up his Facebook page and engage with his followers. So too did DPM Tharman Shanmugaratnam.

Still, the nature of online discourse is a matter of concern to the authorities, even if practitioners themselves see nothing to worry about. The Minister for Communications and Information (MCI), Yaacob Ibrahim, has been calling, the past one year, for a code of conduct for online behaviour. He wants such a code to be devised by bloggers themselves, so that it has some street cred. But bloggers have mostly given the idea a thumbs down. Yaacob is not deterred and has gone ahead and set up a 21-member Media Literacy Council (MLC) headed by senior counsel Tan Cheng Han.

Ostentatiously, the MLC is to look into a broad range of concerns about online behaviour and the dangers of cyber world. However, it is no secret that a code of conduct is one of its main aims, even as the MLC seeks to play down concerns about this. Indeed, Mr Tan had said that such a code "is within the realm of possibilities" when asked in August if the MLC might eventually recommend such a code to the government.

What has been left unsaid, to a large part, is what actually are the concerns which the authorities have. There have been little exposition of this and one is left to guess what actually the code is suppose to address. It has led to the perception that the code of conduct idea is just an excuse for the authorities to rein in bloggers and "netizens” or to subtly coerce self-censorship by practitioners (bloggers and netizens).

The minister seems to only want to insist on a code to regulate behaviour without explaining himself, or to engage bloggers in a meaningful discussion. Indeed, the minister seems to prefer to keep his distance. The government seems to be reacting, in a rather knee-jerk fashion, to what transpired online during the 3 elections in the past year.

And what about the issue of free speech itself, which is a matter of particular concern as there are few other avenues for Singaporeans to express themselves freely, away from the control of the government? Singapore's mainstream media, for example, is still very much within the sphere of influence of the authorities.

The free space online for Singaporeans to speak openly, candidly and even to express themselves vehemently, should be cherished and it should not be surrendered to the authorities to curb as it will without good reasons.

Having said all that, free speech does not automatically mean a free-for-all either. Whether one accepts it or not, all of us do not live in a vacuum. What we do and what we say do affect others. They may even cause hurt or harm. This of course does not mean that we shy away from speaking our minds. What perhaps is needed is a deeper discourse on what constitutes free speech, its limitations and yes, its necessity and benefits too.

What is needed is perhaps a clearer idea of the legal implications of our words and actions online, and the means to traverse this landscape which seems to concern the authorities and some others.

The National Solidarity Party (NSP), in collaboration with publichouse.sg, seeks to shed some light on this at a forum on Saturday, 10 November. (Please see details below.)

It is a timely (free) forum which everyone should attend – to understand the online space, the legal limitations to speech or expression, and how to maneuver in or navigate this space safely.

It is imperative that we who use this online space ourselves understand the pitfalls and the potential of social media to influence, whether negatively or positively, in order to make full use of this space for the common good.

It is hoped that with a positive ruling from the High Court, cases such as these can be prevented in future:

• In 1983, when the Havelock seat became vacant, then PM Lee Kuan Yew said: “There is no reason why the people of Havelock should have a by-election. There is no reason why anybody should be looking after Havelock under the Constitution. There is no reason at all.”

• In Nov 1986, the Anson seat was vacated after WP MP, JB Jeyaretnam, was disqualified from holding the seat. In his answer to opposition member Chiam See Tong’s query in Parliament, Minister S Dhanabalan said then: “He [JB Jeyaretnam] has been convicted of a criminal offence and fined and sent to jail. They [Anson constituents] have to learn to live with the consequences of their choice.”

• And in Dec 1986, the Geylang West seat became vacant after its MP, Teh Cheang Wan, committed suicide. Then DPM Goh Chok Tong explained that there would be no by-election in the ward because the government was “contemplating introducing a Bill to form Town Councils.”

While the courts have ruled that she had no case and have dismissed her application, nonetheless the latest ruling by Justice Pillai on Friday (2 Nov) – that she will not be made to pay costs for bringing the case to the courts even if she loses – is a significant one.

In his ruling (‘Hougang by-election case: Historic decision by Justice Pillai‘), Justice Pillai determined that this public law issue was a matter of general importance. The judge also said that “where a matter raises a legal question of genuine public concern, it may be inappropriate to make a cost order against the applicant even where the judicial review is unsuccessful.”

The Attorney General had earlier wanted the courts to order Mdm Vellama to pay $10,000 in costs since her application was dismissed.

The ruling is a victory of sorts for citizens who bring cases of public interest before the courts. Hence, in future, citizens will not be prevented from doing so because of fear of having to pay crippling costs if they lose.

“It’s important that ordinary people don’t bottle up their frustrations in their hearts,” Mdm Vellama said in reaction to Justice Pillai’s decision, “but they must bring these issues out to society through the courts.”

Since she brought the case to the courts in Mar through her counsel Mr M Ravi, Mdm Vellama has stuck resolutely to her position, determined that as a Singaporean citizen, she should not be denied the right to elect her parliamentary representative. It is not known for sure if her court application had prompted the PM to in fact, call a by-election in the vacated seat of Hougang eventually, but the case certainly brought into focus the ruling party’s historical record of preferring not to hold by-elections as described above. Mdm Vellama’s case may now have changed this preference of the ruling party.

“Many housewives whom I meet at the wet market are now cheering me on,” Mdm Vellama said.

But taking on such cases is not an easy thing to do, especially for someone like Mdm Vellama who does not have a highly-paid job, and who still depends on help schemes to get by.

Without the help of lawyer M Ravi who took on her case pro-bono, she would not have been able to raise the matter in the courts.

Mr Ravi himself has had to pay for the costs himself, which amounts to thousands of dollars. The current costs – which include mainly court filing fees – already amounts to $3,000. With the case now going to the appeals court (‘Hougang by-election case: Appeal filed against High Court’s decision‘), a further $3,000 would be incurred for appeals court filings.

“I am extremely elated to know that I’ve got this protection from the court,” Mdm Vellam said on Friday. “However, I may need some public support to continue this effort to the Court of Appeal on behalf of the public due to the expense of filing fees which are accumulating and anticipated to reach about $6000.”

Often, such battles are fought individually; often the hard work is kept from the public eye. Mr Ravi, for example, has spent days and nights working on the case, which is only one of several which he has taken up pro bono. While we may cheer and express our support from afar, by writing articles or posting comments online, perhaps it is time for us to put our money where our mouths are and do one better – and show our support by donating to the cause.

She does not fight for herself. She fights on our behalf. We should not let her carry the burden alone.

It’s time for us to do our part.

------------------------

Editor's note:

1. TRE is not collecting donations on behalf of Mdm Vellama as we do not have the means to do so. All contributions should be deposited directly into her POSB account 405098440 (Vellama d/o Marie Muthu) or contact her counsel Mr M Ravi (mravilaw1@gmail.com or +65 6533-7433) from the law firm of Messer L. F. Violet Netto for enquiries.

2. Previously, it has been estimated that a sum of $50,000 may be required (‘Mdm Vellama appeals for legal fund in respect of Hougang by-election case appeal‘) because cost payments were taken into account assuming Mdm Vellama loses both the High Court and Appeals Court cases and was ordered to pay costs. But now with the new ruling from Justice Pillai, litigants will be protected from paying costs should he or she loses the court case when it is fought for public interests. Hence, Mdm Vellama needs not worry about paying costs anymore even if she loses the appeal. The only legal fees she has to content with are the filing fees. Mr M Ravi said he will continue to represent her on pro-bono basis even for the appeal process. So, his fees are waived. Hence, it appears that she will only need to contend with the $6,000 filing fees.

3. In the previous appeal for fund, Mr Ravi told TRE that a total of $1,280 was deposited into Mdm Vellama’s account. Hence, a further $4,720 will still be needed.

4. Some TRE readers have asked if it’s possible for Mr Ravi or his law firm to receive the donations instead. Mr Ravi told TRE that due to strict rules governing the conduct of lawyers in Singapore, it is difficult for Mr Ravi to do so as he will have to account for the money. Hence, giving the money to Mdm Vellama directly so that she in turn pay Mr Ravi’s law firm for the filing charges will be the most clear cut, since Mdm Vellama is Mr Ravi’s client. In any case, please contact Mr Ravi should you have further queries on this issue.

To dismiss them as Mr Shanmugam seems to do is an affront to civil society which took upon itself to work towards effecting changes to the practice of the MDP.

But ask any of the activists – and they are from a broad range of people, from the tireless M Ravi, to the late Mr JB Jeyaretnam to the Singapore Democratic Party, from bloggers to civil society groups such as the Singapore Anti-Death Penalty Campaign, Second Chances and Think Centre, and countless other individuals – ask any of them if it matters if they are credited for the changes and you will hear them say it is the least of their concerns.

The reason, if I may offer one, having worked with some of these activists, is that there is a deep emotional bond with those whom the activists have championed. Saving them from the gallows is what matters above all else. And this is not just from a principled belief that the death penalty is inherently wrong, it stems also from that visceral connection to those on death row.

In short, it is about having a conscience and trying to live according to it.

But it is also about the kind of society these activists want. For too long, Singapore has been an unfeeling, cold-hearted, pragmatic society founded on the “hard truths” of economic survival. There wasn’t any time for these “highfalutin”, “soft-hearted” concerns.

But times are changing – and it is the ordinary Singaporeans who are affecting this, demanding and indeed working towards creating a society, a nation, with a heart even as we realise that criminals have to be punished for their crimes.

It is rather ironic that PM Lee Hsien Loong said on 10 November, Saturday, that our nation’s success must be measured by values too. Although he was referring to help for the less fortunate, it is also what the activists are saying – what do we value? How do we value the sanctity of human life? What values are we teaching our young by allowing the state to take a human life, on our behalf?

“We can’t just measure our success by GDP growth, important as this is, but also by the growth of our values: compassion, empathy, altruism, love for our fellow citizens,” PM Lee was reported by the Straits Times as having said. “I hope more Singaporeans will step forward to contribute in big ways and small, because this is the way Singapore can remain our home with a heart.”

What PM Lee is urging is precisely what the activists are doing and trying to achieve.

And then PM Lee goes on to say this:

“It’s easy to express what we would like to see and to expect others to do the hard work, especially the Government. It’s harder to make the effort to study the problems, to understand the issues, and to develop considered proposals.

“It’s most difficult to bestir ourselves, sacrifice our own time and energies, roll up our sleeves and do the heavy lifting day after day, organising, fund-raising, volunteering, and doing things which make a real difference to the lives of others.”

PM Lee is rather prescient here. Indeed, the anti-death penalty activists have done the hard work, they have made the effort to study the problem of the death penalty, and have written extensively and offered solutions to it.

And for sure they have bestirred themselves when no one else cared, sacrificed their time and energies (all of them have day jobs, by the way). They have rolled up their sleeves and done the heavy lifting – day after day, week after week, months and years on end now. They have organised themselves and organised events – fundraisers, film screening, protests, petitions, visits to the inmates and their families, studied the law, written stories, spoken to the media, MPs and ministers. They have volunteered. They cared. They have cried when one is hanged. They have despaired when the Government steels its heart and refuses to budge.

But they have made a real difference, even as the Government may deny this.

The point I am trying to make here is this: there is no shame or “loss of face” in expressing appreciation for those who have given their time and energy in exactly the way which the PM has described, even if it is done in ways which the Government may not approve. But that should matter less than the fact that these Singaporeans care and have taken, as it were, the road less travelled to express that care.

They and their effort should be appreciated and applauded.

There is no use in admonishing Singaporeans when they do not step up, or in expressing gratitude and appreciation only if they do as the Government hopes. What matters, really, is that the activists have a deep desire to see their nation be one which is compassionate and empathetic. A home with a heart.

The very same kind which PM Lee calls for.

It would take him a little more than an hour from his rented room to the petrol station facing the Prison Link Centre (PLC) where he would sit on a square concrete slab and catch a little nap while waiting for the prison's door to open at 7am.  The routine each Monday has been like this for more than a year now since his son was convicted of drug-trafficking under Singapore's mandatory death penalty.

He looked a lot more cheerful this morning compared to the last time we met.  He laughed more easily when he shared with me the joy he felt each time he goes up to the little hilly plot to pick the weeds that threaten to overwhelm his little crop for they grew much quicker than the potatoes.

Even with the searing sun bearing down on his shining pâté, he was happy and contented.  Occasionally, he could feel a gush of wind blowing through his soak shirt, sending a much needed cool relief.  From here, at the top of his little hide away, he could see all around him the houses and traffic in this sleepy town where a kindly friend let him tend his little garden.

Uncle Cheong could still recall vividly the date when he completed planting the potato seedlings - June 20, 2012, the day he almost lost his life.  It was on that fateful day, in the wee hours of the morning while it was pitch dark, that he set off towards a durian plantation intending to earn what little money he could to help raise funds to pay M Ravi, the lawyer who had represented his son, Chung Yin.  It was around 4am, as he was riding along a small road, a bas kilang (factory bus), mowed into his bike and drag him under one side of the bus.  The driver had not seen him.

The basket intended to carry the durians cushioned the impact as his body hit the hard tarred road, cutting and tearing into his flesh.  Though he was all bloodied all over, he came out alive from the ordeal heavily bandaged after the bus driver had sent him to the nearby hospital for treatment.

The accident was waiting to happen as uncle Cheong would work as hard as he could from early morning and late into the night. And despite his tiredness after work, he would just lay on his bed staring at the brownish white ceiling hardly able to fall asleep.  He ached more from the tortured pain in his soul for his son than from the physical strain his body had endured the whole day. Though he had wanted to cry, there were no more tears in his eyes.  All he felt was this throbbing tug on his chest that he quickly realise was really his heart.  And then the memories would come rushing back like a torrent of flood waters unrelentingly.

His wife had left him with his two younger daughters and he recalled with quiet pride that his son had chosen to stick with him.  Without a warning, the next moment he saw his son's gullible smile turning into this snickering person he did not recognise.  A crowd rapidly separated the two of them as he desperately lunged but to no avail and hit a wall so cold it brought a deep shudder and chill down his spine.

This nightmare would repeat itself every night in varying forms but it always ended with the cold wall and the chilling spine.  He would then get up and trudge to the nearby kopi tiam and sit quietly by himself, occasionally chatting with the drinks stall seller when business was slow, until dawn.

The accident had jolted him to see how close he had come face to face with death and survived. Though his damaged bike has been fixed, it was never the same sturdy frame and confident ride again.  Instead, it was shaky and he had to keep moving the handle bars to maintain his balance until he made it to the prison every Monday without any untoward mishap.  Though he could not be sure, he reckoned an angel must be looking after him from behind his back.

Uncle Cheong was never the same again too.  He no longer was as strong as before.  Strangely, he had also never felt lighter in his heart and happier as he shared his first fruit harvest with me that morning.

But I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

Before any one hold us up as a poster family for boosting Singapore’s birth rate or congratulates me for doing ‘national service’, let me say that neither Singapore’s birth rate nor national service were remotely a motivation for having a large family. Nor were any of our government’s pro-family policies, like Baby Bonus.

In fact, this is where I think the government is totally barking up the wrong tree.

If it wants people to have more kids, they need to come up with policies that make a difference in people’s lives. Not policies that are so afraid of creating dependency they veer in the other direction—and end up being crumbs from our Treasury’s table that might get you through a little bit, but leave fundamental issues unresolved. Which, essentially, is what Baby Bonus does. It relies hugely on parents’ ability to contribute to the scheme, so the poorer the parents are the less they benefit from it. Ironic isn’t it, when the people who need Baby Bonus the most are the poorest parents.

People have long-term needs; families and children require cheap and sustainable support for basic things like housing, education, and healthcare, not just discounts for a fixed period. I know of parents, as I’m sure others do too, who have children with special medical needs who could dearly, dearly use a ton of help for healthcare. Not Medisave, which again like Baby Bonus, depends on the parents’ ability to contribute, but just outright help based on the child’s needs.

And we need policies that don’t discriminate, that are not tied to social engineering or a national agenda. For instance, a working woman who has a baby and wants to carry on working afterwards needs maternity leave, needs maternity leave, needs maternity leave. That’s all there is to it. It’s not about whether she’s married or not.

And, no, if the government extends maternity benefits to all women, not just married women, single women are not going to rush out and get pregnant just to take advantage of this. This is such a ridiculous and irrational fear to harbour, not to mention an insulting and damaging one on which to base government policies, I really don’t understand why our highly educated government entertains it in the first place.

Settling for less?

For us, housing is the biggest challenge. Finding a home that can comfortably fit us all and that we can afford is proving to be quite a task! We would love a place that adequately meets the current needs of our family and allows some space for the children as they grow up. This means a four-bedroom property—which gives mum and dad one bedroom, two siblings a bedroom to share, and two other siblings each their own room. A proper four-bedroom property, not a shoebox home built for yield per square foot and not livability, where spaces the size of water closets are passed off as bedrooms—and then sold for sky-high prices. We don’t want or need anything fancy, we’d just like something livable and affordable. Needless to say, in Singapore, this is not easy to come by.

We could be persuaded to settle for less—if ‘less’ were actually more affordable, but it isn’t. Even ‘less’ in Singapore costs an arm and a leg! And we seem to have outgrown HDB flats; and even what HDB options remain for us—Jumbo flats or buying two adjacent units and merging them—are hard to pull off.

With our family’s current needs and our income, we have little if anything left over each month, which makes setting much cash aside for anything (down payment, COV, renovations, a car that can take us all etc.) a rarity. I would be bowled over if there were some government policy that could help here, but I don’t think there is.

Relief but…

To give credit where credit is due, IRAS’s child tax reliefs are generous—$4,000 per child and a further 15–25 percent off the income of working mothers. But again, the benefits have a backhanded side to them. Children of mothers who did not marry their father don’t qualify for child relief, and the working mothers’ child relief benefits women who are both high-income earners and have a large family, the most.

If you look at the examples IRAS uses on its website to illustrate this, that becomes clear. Example 1, says IRAS, talks about ‘Mrs Heng’ who has six children and earns $100,000 a year; and example 2, looks at ‘Mrs Lim’ who has eight children and earns $350,000 a year. Well. You’d be hard pressed to find women with that many children in Singapore (or anywhere these days, outside impoverished or religious communities that eschew birth control), and the ones that do are very, very unlikely to be making that amount of money. Why did IRAS come up with these slightly ridiculous examples then? Because it’s at that size of family and level of income that the working mothers’ child relief is optimal, which means that for the average earner, the tax savings isn’t very big.

I’m not complaining. In spite of not having a lot of security or assets, we have gone ahead with having a big family. We made this and other life choices, and we are living with them, getting by every month, generally content and counting our blessings. We derive a tremendous amount of joy from our family and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The richness in our life is unquantifiable and non-material.

But I was not in the least spurred on by any government benefit or policy or rhetoric to have a large family. And I can see why people aren’t. Because what the government does is provide bundles of straw when you need bricks for a foundation. And unless the marriage and parenthood measures coming up provide more fundamental support, families are pretty much on their own, still.

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Read also: "Forget raising birth rate, help parents instead".

We are exceedingly disappointed that both the ST and TODAY have deemed it proper journalistic practice to name Function 8 as the organiser of the forum or political forum where those words were allegedly spoken by Rev Minchin when MHA itself did not name the organiser. Neither ST nor TODAY had spoken to any member of Function 8 to confirm that we were the organiser of a forum where Rev Minchin said those words. For the record, we have never invited any reporter to any of our forums.

With regard to insinuations of TODAY and ST that Function 8 had breached any employment regulations or laws, we are very clear that we had not done so.

Function 8 is a social enterprise and its members believe there is a need to facilitate the sharing of social, political and economic experiences of those who had or are eager to contribute to society through reflection and civic discussions. Our aims are wider than just seeking the abolition of the Internal Security Act as suggested by ST. Function 8 has on a regular basis, organised talks and discussions. Speakers included a wide range of personalities because we believe in diversity of views. We are an open and transparent organisation and wish to engage various segments of society in discussions and activities that will elevate us to a higher plane of civic and moral responsibility.

Function 8 Limited

19 November 2012

It is thus no surprise that the government has since taken online discourse and engagement more seriously. The prime minister himself, for example, decided to wet his feet by setting up his Facebook page and engage with his followers. So too did DPM Tharman Shanmugaratnam.

Still, the nature of online discourse is a matter of concern to the authorities, even if practitioners themselves see nothing to worry about. The Minister for Communications and Information (MCI), Yaacob Ibrahim, has been calling, the past one year, for a code of conduct for online behaviour. He wants such a code to be devised by bloggers themselves, so that it has some street cred. But bloggers have mostly given the idea a thumbs down. Yaacob is not deterred and has gone ahead and set up a 21-member Media Literacy Council (MLC) headed by senior counsel Tan Cheng Han.

Ostentatiously, the MLC is to look into a broad range of concerns about online behaviour and the dangers of cyber world. However, it is no secret that a code of conduct is one of its main aims, even as the MLC seeks to play down concerns about this. Indeed, Mr Tan had said that such a code "is within the realm of possibilities" when asked in August if the MLC might eventually recommend such a code to the government.

What has been left unsaid, to a large part, is what actually are the concerns which the authorities have. There have been little exposition of this and one is left to guess what actually the code is suppose to address. It has led to the perception that the code of conduct idea is just an excuse for the authorities to rein in bloggers and "netizens” or to subtly coerce self-censorship by practitioners (bloggers and netizens).

The minister seems to only want to insist on a code to regulate behaviour without explaining himself, or to engage bloggers in a meaningful discussion. Indeed, the minister seems to prefer to keep his distance. The government seems to be reacting, in a rather knee-jerk fashion, to what transpired online during the 3 elections in the past year.

And what about the issue of free speech itself, which is a matter of particular concern as there are few other avenues for Singaporeans to express themselves freely, away from the control of the government? Singapore's mainstream media, for example, is still very much within the sphere of influence of the authorities.

The free space online for Singaporeans to speak openly, candidly and even to express themselves vehemently, should be cherished and it should not be surrendered to the authorities to curb as it will without good reasons.

Having said all that, free speech does not automatically mean a free-for-all either. Whether one accepts it or not, all of us do not live in a vacuum. What we do and what we say do affect others. They may even cause hurt or harm. This of course does not mean that we shy away from speaking our minds. What perhaps is needed is a deeper discourse on what constitutes free speech, its limitations and yes, its necessity and benefits too.

What is needed is perhaps a clearer idea of the legal implications of our words and actions online, and the means to traverse this landscape which seems to concern the authorities and some others.

The National Solidarity Party (NSP), in collaboration with publichouse.sg, seeks to shed some light on this at a forum on Saturday, 10 November. (Please see details below.)

It is a timely (free) forum which everyone should attend – to understand the online space, the legal limitations to speech or expression, and how to maneuver in or navigate this space safely.

It is imperative that we who use this online space ourselves understand the pitfalls and the potential of social media to influence, whether negatively or positively, in order to make full use of this space for the common good.

To dismiss them as Mr Shanmugam seems to do is an affront to civil society which took upon itself to work towards effecting changes to the practice of the MDP.

But ask any of the activists – and they are from a broad range of people, from the tireless M Ravi, to the late Mr JB Jeyaretnam to the Singapore Democratic Party, from bloggers to civil society groups such as the Singapore Anti-Death Penalty Campaign, Second Chances and Think Centre, and countless other individuals – ask any of them if it matters if they are credited for the changes and you will hear them say it is the least of their concerns.

The reason, if I may offer one, having worked with some of these activists, is that there is a deep emotional bond with those whom the activists have championed. Saving them from the gallows is what matters above all else. And this is not just from a principled belief that the death penalty is inherently wrong, it stems also from that visceral connection to those on death row.

In short, it is about having a conscience and trying to live according to it.

But it is also about the kind of society these activists want. For too long, Singapore has been an unfeeling, cold-hearted, pragmatic society founded on the “hard truths” of economic survival. There wasn’t any time for these “highfalutin”, “soft-hearted” concerns.

But times are changing – and it is the ordinary Singaporeans who are affecting this, demanding and indeed working towards creating a society, a nation, with a heart even as we realise that criminals have to be punished for their crimes.

It is rather ironic that PM Lee Hsien Loong said on 10 November, Saturday, that our nation’s success must be measured by values too. Although he was referring to help for the less fortunate, it is also what the activists are saying – what do we value? How do we value the sanctity of human life? What values are we teaching our young by allowing the state to take a human life, on our behalf?

“We can’t just measure our success by GDP growth, important as this is, but also by the growth of our values: compassion, empathy, altruism, love for our fellow citizens,” PM Lee was reported by the Straits Times as having said. “I hope more Singaporeans will step forward to contribute in big ways and small, because this is the way Singapore can remain our home with a heart.”

What PM Lee is urging is precisely what the activists are doing and trying to achieve.

And then PM Lee goes on to say this:

“It’s easy to express what we would like to see and to expect others to do the hard work, especially the Government. It’s harder to make the effort to study the problems, to understand the issues, and to develop considered proposals.

“It’s most difficult to bestir ourselves, sacrifice our own time and energies, roll up our sleeves and do the heavy lifting day after day, organising, fund-raising, volunteering, and doing things which make a real difference to the lives of others.”

PM Lee is rather prescient here. Indeed, the anti-death penalty activists have done the hard work, they have made the effort to study the problem of the death penalty, and have written extensively and offered solutions to it.

And for sure they have bestirred themselves when no one else cared, sacrificed their time and energies (all of them have day jobs, by the way). They have rolled up their sleeves and done the heavy lifting – day after day, week after week, months and years on end now. They have organised themselves and organised events – fundraisers, film screening, protests, petitions, visits to the inmates and their families, studied the law, written stories, spoken to the media, MPs and ministers. They have volunteered. They cared. They have cried when one is hanged. They have despaired when the Government steels its heart and refuses to budge.

But they have made a real difference, even as the Government may deny this.

The point I am trying to make here is this: there is no shame or “loss of face” in expressing appreciation for those who have given their time and energy in exactly the way which the PM has described, even if it is done in ways which the Government may not approve. But that should matter less than the fact that these Singaporeans care and have taken, as it were, the road less travelled to express that care.

They and their effort should be appreciated and applauded.

There is no use in admonishing Singaporeans when they do not step up, or in expressing gratitude and appreciation only if they do as the Government hopes. What matters, really, is that the activists have a deep desire to see their nation be one which is compassionate and empathetic. A home with a heart.

The very same kind which PM Lee calls for.

“First, the trafficker must have only played the role of courier, and must not have been involved in any other activity related to the supply or distribution of drugs. Second, discretion will only apply if having satisfied this first requirement, either the trafficker has cooperated with the Central Narcotics Bureau in a substantive way, or he has a mental disability which substantially impairs his appreciation of the gravity of the act.”

These stipulations by themselves raise many questions, some of which have been asked by MPs and which are left unanswered. For example, NMP Lawrence Lien raised an important point about punishment:

“This ‘substantive assistance’ standard is too high, which was also mentioned by Mr Edwin Tong, and has a worryingly strong utilitarian element of collecting better intelligence, and using the threat of death as a bargaining chip. Simply put, whether a person gets a chance to live or not hinges on how useful the offender is to the state in achieving certain ends. I believe the life and death of an offender should not be decided based solely on their utility to the state. Hence, I urge that this subsection be removed.”

One could say that Mr Lien’s point can be taken further to mean that one could be put to death not because of the actual crime one has committed, but because one is unable to provide “substantive assistance” to the authorities.

In other words, you will die not because you trafficked drugs. You will die because you are useless to the State.

The Workers’ Party MP, Sylvia Lim, said:

“The Explanatory Note to the Bill expressly clarifies that information which does not enhance the effective enforcement of the Act ‘will not suffice’. According to this wording, a low-level courier who knows nothing about the drug network will go to the gallows, while another courier who has more information (and is presumably closer to the higher echelons) can escape death. This would be a perverse outcome…”

These are unanswered questions which we must deal with. Unfortunately, we seem to have glossed over such problematic issues conveniently by offering the deterrent argument once again. And this is the main argument the Government has presented many times – that the mandatory death penalty is a deterrent to drug traffickers.

“The mandatory death penalty strengthens this deterrent message,” DPM Teo said in Parliament. He then cited the decrease in the number of kidnappings and firearms offences to substantiate his deterrent argument. Strangely, though, the DPM did not provide statistics on the number of drug trafficking activities over the years since the introduction of the mandatory death penalty in 1975. Instead, DPM Teo said “the war is ongoing.”

Even so, it is highly dubious to cite numbers so simplistically to argue in favour of putting someone to death. And especially so when such statistics seem to be used selectively – why cite them for some crimes (kidnappings, firearms offences) and not others (drug trafficking)?

At the end of the day, the fact remains that the deterrent argument is a dubious one. At best, it is speculative. And it being speculative is not a good enough justification for taking someone’s life. Period.

The ministers and several MPs too seemed to have placed much weight on the role of the traffickers. Indeed, their arguments seem to be so entirely weighted against the drug mules  that they may have lost sight of an important point – that drug addicts and drug abusers too share the blame and responsibility for the consequences of drug abuse.

In short, no one can force powder up your nose or shoot them into your veins.

As former NMP Calvin Cheng wrote in his letter to the Straits Times forum page:

“The victims in drug offences are unique in the sense that, unlike in many other crimes, the ‘victim’ is responsible for some degree of culpability and consent. As such, trafficking does not warrant capital punishment.”

He also wrote:

“In drug offences, however, the victim makes a decision to abuse drugs - if this were not the case, there would not be efforts to counsel or rehabilitate the victim of drug abuse.

“The families wrecked by drug abusers should as much blame the abuser as the stranger who sold the victim the drug.”

Lastly, Law Minister K. Shanmugam said, referring to victims of drug use:

We hardly ever hear tears shed in public for these 200,000 who die. But we shed a lot of tears for everyone on death row. Compassion is important, but context is also important.”

Minister Tan Chuan Jin said, on his Facebook page:

“No one cheers for the death penalty nor the mandatory nature of it. I don't. Nor any of my colleagues.

“We often shed tears for the trafficker. And debate passionately the humanity of our laws.  We often do not shed tears for those who lose their lives to drugs. We often forget the families destroyed by drugs.

“The crime is trafficking. Let us not forget who the victims are.”

First, contrary to what Mr Shanmugam said – that “we shed a lot of tears for everyone on death row” – in fact the lives and stories of those on death row in Singapore are shunned by the mainstream media here. So, how is it possible for the public to “shed a lot of tears for everyone on death row” when no one knows about them, their families, their stories? Even their executions are not announced. The truth is that those on death row die quiet deaths, away from the knowledge of the public.

Second, Minister Tan is right in saying that we should not forget who the victims are. However, he seemed to suggest that the victims here are only the abusers and their families.

The truth, again, is that the victims are on both sides – the abusers and the mules.

Perhaps if our mainstream media – and our ministers and MPs – delve more into the lives of the drug mules, and help the wider public understand the problem better, we will have a more balanced view of the issue.

What is disturbing is that our parliamentarians seem to have a very skewed perspective at the moment, even stereotypical ones – and at the same time signing off on legislations which empower them to snuff out lives, based on flimsy and unsubstantiated arguments.

And I would like to ask too: why do we require those sentenced to life in prison to also be caned? Why are we so bloodthirsty for our pound of flesh? Are we looking for justice, or for revenge?

“Society should move towards more humane ways of restorative justice,” Mr Lien said, “especially where there is possibility of reforming and rehabilitating the offender.”

Sadly, his seemed to be the lone voice which spoke some sense.

It is indeed with regards to context and compassion that we should re-examine the crime of drug trafficking, but I however come to the opposite conclusion as the Law Minister.

First, let's look at the context. I would like to point out that the victims in drug offences are unique in the sense that unlike in many other crimes, there is a degree of culpability and consent on the side of the ‘victim’. Because of this, it is my contention that drug trafficking is not even a crime that deserves capital punishment.

Murder would not be murder if the victim consents – it would be assisted suicide. Robbery would not be robbery if the victim consents – it could be insurance fraud. The lack of consent is inherent in the very definition of rape. In drug offences however, the ‘victim’ makes a decision to abuse drugs – if this was not the case, there would not be efforts to counsel or rehabilitate the ‘victim’ of drug abuse. The families wrecked by drug abusers should thus also as much blame the drug abuser for inflicting pain on them, as the stranger who sold the drugs.

Second, let's look at how much compassion one should offer drug abusers. As much as it is true that some tears may be shed for some drug abusers, especially those who are driven to drugs by abject socio-economic conditions, there are just as many struggling individuals who remain drug-free. In addition, drug abusers in developed countries are increasingly well-to-do individuals who seek a temporary thrill from illicit substances. Compassion for such individuals would be completely misplaced.

The death penalty for drug trafficking seems then to be an extremely blunt and extreme measure for a crime where victims have a level of culpability and consent not present in other crimes. I do not doubt that there are increasing number of drug users around the world, but the solution cannot be the state-sanctioned killing of drug-couriers. This is a cop-out of an extremely complex socio-economic problem where the roots of drug abuse must be targeted,including poverty, social and familial dysfunction, psychological problems, and a lack of education on the addictive effects of drugs.

The death penalty can ever only be justified, if at all, for the most heinous of crimes. Drug-trafficking and drug-abuse are part of a larger, complex and deeply rooted global social problem, where the victims must share culpability with the perpetrators.

It is not genocide.

It would take him a little more than an hour from his rented room to the petrol station facing the Prison Link Centre (PLC) where he would sit on a square concrete slab and catch a little nap while waiting for the prison's door to open at 7am.  The routine each Monday has been like this for more than a year now since his son was convicted of drug-trafficking under Singapore's mandatory death penalty.

He looked a lot more cheerful this morning compared to the last time we met.  He laughed more easily when he shared with me the joy he felt each time he goes up to the little hilly plot to pick the weeds that threaten to overwhelm his little crop for they grew much quicker than the potatoes.

Even with the searing sun bearing down on his shining pâté, he was happy and contented.  Occasionally, he could feel a gush of wind blowing through his soak shirt, sending a much needed cool relief.  From here, at the top of his little hide away, he could see all around him the houses and traffic in this sleepy town where a kindly friend let him tend his little garden.

Uncle Cheong could still recall vividly the date when he completed planting the potato seedlings - June 20, 2012, the day he almost lost his life.  It was on that fateful day, in the wee hours of the morning while it was pitch dark, that he set off towards a durian plantation intending to earn what little money he could to help raise funds to pay M Ravi, the lawyer who had represented his son, Chung Yin.  It was around 4am, as he was riding along a small road, a bas kilang (factory bus), mowed into his bike and drag him under one side of the bus.  The driver had not seen him.

The basket intended to carry the durians cushioned the impact as his body hit the hard tarred road, cutting and tearing into his flesh.  Though he was all bloodied all over, he came out alive from the ordeal heavily bandaged after the bus driver had sent him to the nearby hospital for treatment.

The accident was waiting to happen as uncle Cheong would work as hard as he could from early morning and late into the night. And despite his tiredness after work, he would just lay on his bed staring at the brownish white ceiling hardly able to fall asleep.  He ached more from the tortured pain in his soul for his son than from the physical strain his body had endured the whole day. Though he had wanted to cry, there were no more tears in his eyes.  All he felt was this throbbing tug on his chest that he quickly realise was really his heart.  And then the memories would come rushing back like a torrent of flood waters unrelentingly.

His wife had left him with his two younger daughters and he recalled with quiet pride that his son had chosen to stick with him.  Without a warning, the next moment he saw his son's gullible smile turning into this snickering person he did not recognise.  A crowd rapidly separated the two of them as he desperately lunged but to no avail and hit a wall so cold it brought a deep shudder and chill down his spine.

This nightmare would repeat itself every night in varying forms but it always ended with the cold wall and the chilling spine.  He would then get up and trudge to the nearby kopi tiam and sit quietly by himself, occasionally chatting with the drinks stall seller when business was slow, until dawn.

The accident had jolted him to see how close he had come face to face with death and survived. Though his damaged bike has been fixed, it was never the same sturdy frame and confident ride again.  Instead, it was shaky and he had to keep moving the handle bars to maintain his balance until he made it to the prison every Monday without any untoward mishap.  Though he could not be sure, he reckoned an angel must be looking after him from behind his back.

Uncle Cheong was never the same again too.  He no longer was as strong as before.  Strangely, he had also never felt lighter in his heart and happier as he shared his first fruit harvest with me that morning.

Hotel management asked the organizers to move their event to a different venue, admitting that they had failed to notice that it was an opposition political party that wanted to use their seminar room, and that they would not have entered into a contractual agreement to lease their seminar room for the forum, if they had known that the event was being organized NSP.

The hotel was however, legally bound to the agreement. To ease RELC International Hotel’s discomfort, the NSP sought the help of publichouse.sg, the co-organizer’s of the event, to re-book the venue in PH’s name.

‘The forum that almost wasn’t’ commenced as planned and saw a turnout of about a hundred people. The second in a series of forums designed to generate public discourse, the event featured a panel discussion with litigation lawyers, Dr Jack Tsen-Ta Lee (Assistant Professor of Law, SMU), Peter Cuthbert Low (former Law Society President), Choo Zheng Xi (co-founder of socio-political website, The Online Citizen), and media expert Cherian George (Associate Professor, NTU), and ended with a rousing Q&A segment.

Moderated by Mr Philemon, the panelists discussed topics such as the extent and limitations of the freedoms of expression and speech, the constraints of navigating the online world, defamation laws, and lessons from past prosecutions, from a mostly legal perspective.

NSP’s Vice-President, Jeannette Chong Aruldoss, said that she considered the event a success and that the forum achieved its objectives of shedding more light on taking informed risks when engaging on socio-political issues online.

It’s hard to imagine that an informative-educational event such as this one was almost cancelled, just because it was organised by an opposition party. I’m glad that the muzzle on the opposition parties and on those that offer contrarian views have not yet been extended to the Internet. The online world continues to remain the most open 'public square' Singaporeans have for public discourse.

We are exceedingly disappointed that both the ST and TODAY have deemed it proper journalistic practice to name Function 8 as the organiser of the forum or political forum where those words were allegedly spoken by Rev Minchin when MHA itself did not name the organiser. Neither ST nor TODAY had spoken to any member of Function 8 to confirm that we were the organiser of a forum where Rev Minchin said those words. For the record, we have never invited any reporter to any of our forums.

With regard to insinuations of TODAY and ST that Function 8 had breached any employment regulations or laws, we are very clear that we had not done so.

Function 8 is a social enterprise and its members believe there is a need to facilitate the sharing of social, political and economic experiences of those who had or are eager to contribute to society through reflection and civic discussions. Our aims are wider than just seeking the abolition of the Internal Security Act as suggested by ST. Function 8 has on a regular basis, organised talks and discussions. Speakers included a wide range of personalities because we believe in diversity of views. We are an open and transparent organisation and wish to engage various segments of society in discussions and activities that will elevate us to a higher plane of civic and moral responsibility.

Function 8 Limited

19 November 2012

We had also considered the need for the announcement of station names to be in four languages. During our review, it was clear to us that most station names, when pronounced in English, sound similar to that in Malay and Tamil. Stations names in Mandarin, however, sound different. Take for instance, some examples are as follows:

1)       City Hall, 政府大厦 (Zheng Fu Da Sha)

2)       Somerset, 索美塞 (Suo Mei Sai)

3)       Redhill, 红山 (Hong Shan)

4)       Lakeside, 湖畔 (Hu Pan)

5)       Pioneer, 先驱 (Xian Qu)

In this regard, the announcement of station name in Mandarin will benefit passengers who rely on announcements during their journey.

Other improvements to in-train announcements are the clarity and conciseness of the announcements.

Thank you for writing in, and we wish you a pleasant week ahead.

Yours sincerely

Lynette Sng

Customer Relations

Corporate Marketing and Communications

SMRT Corporation Ltd

We are in no position to comment on the competence of the management at SMRT, but its recent string of missteps in operations, emergency management, public relations and now human resource management does not augur well, and highlights our vulnerability with only two public transport operators running essentially two separate monopolies.  NSP repeats its call for the inclusion of more private operators of public transport.

Given that communications between the management of SMRT and the drivers have broken down, what else could the drivers have done instead of going on strike?

Traditionally, unions are set up to protect the interest of employees.  Group action and organization are necessary to balance the power of employers, and hence make it possible for negotiations to be conducted on a more equal footing, leading to fairer and sustainable outcomes.

Singapore has often touted its tri-partite model of labour relations management – employer, union and government - the three parties that supposedly check and balance each other.  However, our National Trades Union Congress (NTUC) is so closely intertwined with the Government that it is difficult to tell them apart.  NTUC’s response in this case is also identical to the Government stance.  In the case of a Government-linked company, of which SMRT is one, all three parties are perceived as one and the same.  So while we could say that the aggrieved workers should have approached the union or MOM for a resolution, we should also recognize that such a serious conflict of interest does not provide confidence to aggrieved workers that their rights and interest would be protected.  It is often said that the legal system must not only be fair, but also be seen to be fair.  The same principle applies here.  We need a union that is independent, and also seen to be independent, from the Government.

The strikers have cited low pay and unbearable living conditions as reasons for their strike.  If these were true, they are mitigating factors.  While NSP has always objected to the Government’s liberal immigration policy, it is the policy to which we object, not the foreign workers personally. We have no wish to see foreign workers being mistreated and are against the rising income inequality in our society.  We urge an open and fair investigation by the authorities despite the conflict of interest arising from the fact that SMRT is majority-owned by Temasek Holdings which is owned by Government.

We would also like to urge any drivers still on strike to return to work immediately in the interest of commuters, as well as in their own self interest.

Sincerely,

Hazel Poa

Secretary-General

On behalf of the Central Executive Committee