SLA STATEMENT ON RIDOUT ROAD RENTALS RAISES MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS

 

Until Kenneth Jeyaretnam started writing about it on his blog on 6 May 2023, few knew that Cabinet Ministers K Shanmugam and Vivian Balakrishnan were living in state-owned black-and-white houses at Ridout Road.      

Built in colonial times, black-and-white houses are architecturally unique and often sit on large pieces of land.  In Singapore, such heritage homes are highly coveted places of residence.  About 500 black-and-white houses remain today, the vast majority of them are state-owned and managed by the Singapore Land Authority (SLA), a statutory board under the Ministry of Law. Such state-owned properties are only available for rent by public tender.

The optics of ministers living in state-owned colonial mansions surrounded by massive land while most Singaporeans squeeze themselves into pint-size flats in land-scarce Singapore, make an unpretty picture.

Not surprisingly, the Ridout Road news drew many questions and much indignation from the public. 

In response to rife public speculation and interest in the Ridout Road rentals by the two ministers, SLA issued a media statement on 12 May 2023.  The information provided by SLA raised more questions than answers.

Here are 6 facts revealed by the SLA statement and the questions that struck me when I considered each of those facts.

Fact 1:   26 and 31 Ridout Road had been vacant for more than 4 years and more than 6 years respectively, before they were tenanted.

- Why were those properties vacant for years?  

- Were they left vacant by decision or due to inability to find suitable tenants?

- If they were vacant by decision, why were they kept vacant? 

- When did the policy to keep them vacant change to getting them tenanted?

- If they were vacant for those years due to inability to find a suitable tenant, what were the efforts made over the years to attract tenants?

As far as I know, landlords hate vacant periods. Having an untenanted property is like keeping your cash savings in a non-interest-bearing current account.  Also, maintenance costs will continue to run, even for vacant properties.  Other than wealthy landlords who can afford to be indifferent, most landlords would assiduously avoid vacant periods and do whatever needs to be done to ensure that their property is at all times tenanted and therefore income-producing.

In land-hungry Singapore, a huge dollar figure can be put to describe the rental income forgone by leaving a piece of real estate – more so one in a prime location - vacant for a year, let alone 4 to 6 years. Idle state land resources represent an opportunity cost not only in terms of lost Government revenue, but also the loss of social benefits had the land been employed for public use.  

Here, we are talking about state-owned assets managed by SLA, an organ of the state carrying the burden of optimising the use of state properties, either for social benefit or to earn income for Government coffers.

An explanation should be given to the public as to why those two extremely large pieces of state-owned properties located in a prime area were vacant for years.

 

Fact 2: The 2018 public tender for 26 Ridout Road only garnered one bid.

- What were the actions taken by SLA to publicise, promote and market 26 Ridout Road to attract potential bidders for the 2018 tender?

- Was the 2018 tender the first and only time since December 2013 that 26 Ridout Road was put out for bidding?

- If not, how many unsuccessful tenders were conducted before 2018?

- Were the terms and conditions of the bidding or the tenancy applied for the 2018 tender similar or different to those in the tender for other black and white houses?

- If different, what were those differences from the usual terms and conditions?

The response to the tender for 26 Ridout Road in 2018 was poor, attracting only one bid. 

Black and white houses are supposed to be highly sought-after. One would expect many to be interested to rent a black and white house, subject to being able to afford the rent.

If the Guide Rent is unknown to bidders, what is to stop an optimistic house-hunter from making a “try-luck” offer?

To make a bid, the bidder must fork out a bidding deposit which is the amount of his bid rent per month.  But his bidding deposit will be returned to him if his bid is unsuccessful. The bidder will not lose any money by making a try-luck offer.  Yet, the 2018 tender for 26 Ridout Road did not even attract any try-luck bids.

Was the poor response due to Insufficient publicity? To rule out insufficient publicity effort as the cause for the poor response, SLA should release details of the actions taken to publicise, promote and market 26 Ridout Road to attract potential bidders back then.

Were potential bidders put off by onerous terms and conditions? To rule out onerous terms and conditions as the cause for the poor response, SLA should release the bidding terms and conditions and the specimen tenancy agreement applied for the 2018 tender of 26 Ridout Road, for comparison with the bidding and tenancy terms and conditions for other black and white houses.

Were potential bidders put off by the state and condition of the house?  If the property has a Guide Rent, then it must be in a lettable condition.  At the minimum, the roof and structure of the house should be sound and in good condition, have water and electrical supply and a sewage system. 

I cannot believe that SLA would release 26 Ridout Road for rent if the roof was about to fall and if was too dilapidated to be fit for habitation. It would be unconscionable for anyone to palm off an unliveable place for rent.

Anyway, if spending some money to fix up the property will enable you to get it tenanted, then he would be a very silly landlord to not spend the money to fix up the property.

Of course, if it is going to cost a fortune to render a monster-infested property fit for human habitation, then I say nuke the place and turn it into a public park for joggers, strollers and lovers to haunt.  But don’t leave it vacant and idle.

All said, the poor response to the 2018 tender for 26 Ridout Road needs an explanation and I hope we get one.

Fact 3: The bid for 26 Ridout Road was won by the Law Minister as the sole bidder.

Besides only attracting one bid, the sole bidder who placed a bid above the Guide Rent (which was not disclosed to him), was the Law Minister himself.

A person looking to rent a black-and-white house will access SLA’s website to see what houses are up for public tender.

Other data that house-hunters may want to know, but which SLA does not publish, include:

ü  As to which or when certain vacant houses would be going up for public tender;

ü  The Guide Rent for houses up for tender;

ü  The rentals of tenanted houses (but SLA does publish the results of recent open tenders on their website for a period of time); and

ü  The tenancy expiry date of tenanted houses.

On 2 August 2022, Mr Shanmugam speaking as the Law Minister, answered parliamentary questions on rental demand for SLA-managed black and white houses.  SLA is under the Ministry of Law. He informed:

“SLA currently manages 262 residential State black-and-white bungalows which exceed 20,000 sq ft in land area. As of 21 July 2022, 236 of these residential State black-and-white bungalows are tenanted, with a median land size of about 38,000 sq ft and a median rental of about $13,000 per month.”

The information given by Mr Shanmugam gives the impression that he has access to data relating to SLA’s inventory of tenanted and untenanted black-and-white houses and the rentals which the tenanted houses were fetching. 

- When SLA decided that 26 Ridout Road would be released for public tender, did Mr Shanmugam, being the Law Minister, have access to that SLA decision, ahead of it becoming public knowledge?

- Or did Mr Shanmugam, despite being the Law Minister, find out about the tender of 26 Ridout Road by checking the SLA website like anyone else, so that he knew about it no sooner than the public did?

- If Mr Shanmugam, being the Law Minister, did have access to information that SLA would be putting 26 Ridout Road up for public tender, ahead of it becoming public knowledge, does it matter?

Fact 4: Mr Shanmugam made his offer for 26 Ridout Road through an agent.

- What does making an offer through an agent mean? 

- Does making an offer through an agent mean that the agent signed the bidding form in his own personal name, without disclosing the name of Mr Shanmugam as the prospective tenant and without making it known to SLA that he was acting as an agent on behalf of Mr Shanmugam? 

- Why didn’t or couldn’t Mr Shanmugam make the offer himself without going through an agent?

I picked up a “Bidding Form for State Property” at random from the SLA website. The Bidding Form I saw requires the bidder to provide his personal particulars, including his monthly income. He must also be the person signing the tenancy agreement as “tenant” if his bid is successful.

Clause 1.4 of the Bidding Form states: “The State Property shall be used solely for residential purpose by the successful bidder personally and his family”.

Clause 5.4 of the Bidding Form states: “The successful bidder shall not be entitled to transfer his right to rent.” 

This means that agents cannot bid on behalf of undisclosed persons. 

We do not know if a different type of bidding form applied to the tender that Mr Shanmugam went through in 2018.  SLA should release a copy of the bidding form used in that 2018 tender. 

If the bidding form used in that 2018 tender was the same as the Bidding Form I saw at SLA website, then Mr Shanmugam could not have made an offer for the property anonymously.  SLA would have been fully aware during the bid evaluation, that Mr Shanmugam was the prospective tenant.

 

Fact 5:   Mr Shanmugam notified a senior Cabinet colleague that he was making a bid for 26 Ridout Road.

 - Why did Mr Shanmugam notify a senior Cabinet colleague that he was making a bid for the property?

-   Did Mr Shanmugam do this for the sake of transparency?

-  If transparency was Mr Shanmugam’s aim, then why didn’t he give formal notice to the Cabinet instead of telling one Cabinet colleague?

-  Who was the senior Cabinet colleague Mr Shanmugam notified?

- Why did Mr Shanmugam choose that particular colleague instead of any other colleague?

-  Did Mr Shanmugam inform the said senior Cabinet colleague verbally or in writing?

Since the SLA media statement mentioned that Mr Shanmugam had notified a senior Cabinet colleague that he was making a bid for 26 Ridout Road, it suggests that SLA has seen a copy of the notice given by Mr Shanmugam.  In which case, I hope SLA or Mr Shanmugam would release the copy to the public. That would answer a lot of questions.

 

Fact 6: Dr Vivian’s tenancy of 31 Ridout Road commenced 11 months after he had bid for it.

Dr Vivian made his bid in November 2018, but his tenancy only commenced on October 2019, 11 months after he made the bid for it.

31 Ridout Road being released for public tender would mean that it was ready to let. If so, the tenancy should commence immediately, to minimise the void period.

According to the Clause 5.6 of the Bidding Form I saw on SLA website:

"The tenancy shall be for a term of 2 years commencing within twenty-one (21) calendar days from the date of the Letter of Acceptance.”

Hence, the tenancy should commence immediately after the bid is awarded.

Yet, Dr Vivian’s tenancy did not commence immediately, but 11 months later.

- Why did Dr Vivian’s tenancy not commence immediately, but 11 months later?

- Was deferred commencement date imposed by SLA or requested by Dr Vivian?

-  If it was imposed by SLA, what was the reason for imposing such an unusual condition for 31 Ridout Road? 

- If it was Dr Vivian who requested for the deferred commencement date, why did SLA agreed to such an unusual condition for 31 Ridout Road, given that there were other bidders apart from Dr Vivian?

- If it was Dr Vivian who requested for the deferred commencement date which SLA agreed, then how was the loss of rental income during the additional void period accounted for?

SLA ended their media statement with a promise to release more details in July 2023.  I will wait till then for the answers to my questions.

 Jeannette Chong Aruldoss

Going behind the quirky must-do of the oath of secrecy in Singaporean elections

 

1955 Legislative Assembly Election
Source: ELD | Milestones

Guaranteeing secrecy of your vote is an imperative for free and fair elections. 

Towards this end, for general and presidential elections, Singapore’s Elections Department (ELD) requires all authorised personnel to make an Oath of Secrecy before they are permitted to enter a polling or counting station to carry out their roles. 

If you had taken part at the last general election as a polling or counting agent for a candidate, you would have had to appear before a Commissioner for Oaths to sign your signature on a printed form captioned “Form of Oath of Secrecy (Form 18)” containing the sentence: 

"I, the abovenamed person, swear that I will not at this election in the abovementioned Electoral Division do anything forbidden by section 56 of the Parliamentary Elections Act which has been read to me."  

With the following footnote:

"Section 56 of the Parliamentary Elections Act (printed overleaf) must be read to the person taking the Oath. No stamp fee is required." 

GE2020 Form 18

If you notice, Form 18 has a very odd stipulation that Section 56 of the Parliamentary Elections Act must be read to the person taking the Oath, before the person swears and signs Form 18.  This directive is not just odd, but also onerous, because Section 56 is 500 words long. I don’t want to lengthen this essay by 500 words, so let me show a picture of Section 56 instead. 

 

Section 56, Parliamentary Elections Act, Cap. 218

Imagine the tedium of reading out Section 56 and the tedium of hearing a recitation of it. I can read Section 56 myself, but I am legally obliged to let someone read it to me. 

The last three general elections were more hotly contested than before.  General Election 2011 saw the highest number of seats contested since post-independence, with 82 of 87 seats (or 94.3%) contested. At General Elections 2015 and 2020, all seats were contested.  Walkovers are now a thing of the past. 

At each of the last three general elections, vast numbers of officers and agents had to be recruited by ELD and candidates to serve at polling and counting stations. All these personnel would have had to produce a signed Form 18 in order to gain admission into polling or counting stations to carry out their roles. 

I was a candidate at General Elections 2011 and 2015. Each time, I had to recruit about 50 volunteers to serve as my polling and counting agents at the Single Member Constituency where I contested.  All 50 polling and counting agents including myself as candidate, had to make the Form 18 Oath. 

I did not contest at General Election 2020, but was among the many Commissioners for Oaths who administered Form 18 for candidates, polling agents and counting agents. General Election 2020 had 1,097 polling stations. There are plans to increase the number of polling stations in the next general election. [Ref: Written reply PQ2503 of Notice Paper No. 1586 of 2022] 

At the general elections that I have been involved in, it was each time an enormous logistical effort to arrange for the Oath of Secrecy to be taken by those required to make it. That Section 56 must be read to the declarant, was an added load on the effort.   

Once upon a time, I read bedtime stories to my children. That was when they were too young to read for themselves.     

In this day and age, surely declarants can read Section 56 for themselves. If they are not clear what Section 56 means, they should exercise personal responsibility to seek clarification, before making the Oath. 

If the declarant is illiterate or cannot understand English, then reading out Section 56 to such a declarant is pointless. 

It has always bugged me why Section 56 must be read out to the declarant.  Recently, I decided to dig out the origins of the Oath of Secrecy.  My journey back in time bore fascinating fruit. 

The first time Singapore held a general election was on 20 March 1948. 

At that time, Singapore was a British Colony.  The British Colonial Government decided to hold the 1948 general election to let the people of Singapore elect 6 out of the 22 seats in the Legislative Council, with officials and appointed members holding the other 16 seats.  

In preparation for Singapore’s first ever election, the British Colonial Government enacted the Singapore Legislative Council Ordinance, 1947 and set up the Elections Office under the Colonial Secretary's Office.  

It was publicly declared that the Elections Office was "non-partisan and completely colourless and was only concerned with ensuring that every eligible voter had an equal chance to vote. It was completely without party affiliations of any kind and the ballot would be secret, as in any democratic country."  (The Straits Times, 14 October 1947) 

The 1947 Ordinance morphed into the Singapore Parliamentary Elections Act, 1954.  The Elections Office under the Colonial Secretary's Office is now the ELD under the Prime Minister’s Office.  

Ploughing through the ancient 1947 Ordinance, I was jubilant to find the mother of Section 56 and Form 18 within its yellow leaves. 

Entombed in the 1947 Ordinance was the edict that all officers, agents and other authorised personnel had to make an Oath of Secrecy before they could attend at a polling station or at the counting of votes. 

The Oath of Secrecy prescribed by the 1947 Ordinance was as follows:

"I swear that I will not at this election for the ____________________ electoral district do anything forbidden by section 51 of the Singapore Legislative Council Elections Ordinance, 1947, which has been read to me." 

The form had the following footnote:

"The section must be read to the declarant by the person taking the declaration." 

1947 Form of Oath of Secrecy

Ah ha - that is where the words “which has been read to me” and “must be read to …” came from! 

The Singapore Parliamentary Elections Act, 1954 has endured numerous amendments. But its Form 18 remains substantially the same as the Form of Oath of Secrecy incepted by the 1947 Ordinance. 

The words "which has been read to me" in the Form 18 Oath statement and the words "must be read to …” in its footnote, have been carried forward in successive iterations of Form 18 since 1947 to the present day, without questioning if the requirement and the wording continues to be suitable in today's context. 

Perhaps the author of yore intended the words “must be read to the declarant” to be taken literally.  More importantly, those words conveyed the message that the declarant must understand the do’s and don’ts as prescribed by the relevant section, before he makes the Oath of Secrecy. 

Whatever might have been the good reason for requiring the whole section to be read out to the declarant back in 1947, such a requirement is no longer meaningful in today’s context. 

The requirement that Section 56 must be read to the declarant, is an anachronism. 

Feeling brave after having done the research, I decided to write to ELD to propose that Form 18 for general elections as well as its counterpart, Form P13 for presidential elections, be updated. 

I wrote up a long letter to ELD.  I explained how it was onerous and not meaningful to read out 500 words of legal prose to each declarant. Instead, the form should have the declarant declare that he/she has read and understood the relevant Section. This puts the onus on the declarant to seek a proper understanding of the relevant Section, before making the Oath of Secrecy. 

I proposed that for both Form 18 and Form P13, the words "which has been read to me" in the Oath statement be changed to "which I have read and understood"; and that the footnote be removed for both Forms. 

If adopted, the revised Oath statement for Form 18 would be:

"I, the abovenamed person, swear that I will not at this election in the abovementioned Electoral Division do anything forbidden by section 56 of the Parliamentary Elections Act 1954, which I have read and understood."  

And the revised Oath statement for Form P13 would be:

"I, the abovenamed person, swear that I will not at this election do anything forbidden by section 36 of the Presidential Elections Act, which I have read and understood." 

Not having to read 500 words of legal prose out to each declarant will help alleviate the massive effort required to carry out the oath taking process during a general or presidential election. 

I sent my lengthy letter to ELD on 21 Feb 2023 at 12:59 pm.  

You won’t believe it - ELD replied to me the very same day at 5:14 pm:

 

21 February 2023 5:14 pm

Dear Mrs Chong-Aruldoss

Thank you for your feedback submitted on 21 Feb 2023.

We will take your suggestion into consideration when we next review the forms. Regards 

ELD reply on same day

The speed at which ELD replied to me, was pretty impressive. 

I hope ELD would take up my suggested changes to Forms 18 and P13 before the next general or presidential election. 

The next general election must be held by 23 November 2025, so perhaps the next general election is not imminent. 

However, the next presidential election is due to be held by 13 September 2023. If contested, the huge exercise of getting Form P13 signed for everyone required to do it, will be repeated. 

Presidential Election 2011 was contested by an unprecedented four candidates.  There were a huge number of officers and agents seeking to sign Form P13 at Presidential Election 2011. 

Presidential Election 2017 was uncontested. With no polls, Form P13 was unused. 

If Presidential Election 2023 is again uncontested, then as before, there would be no polls and Form P13 would remain unused.  In which case, my misgivings with Form P13, would have no practical relevance. 

Jeannette Chong-Aruldoss

The Curious Case of Phillip George Sceats

I bet you didn't know that in 2018, an innocent Australian holiday-maker was arrested at Changi Airport and charged with trafficking an amount of cocaine punishable by death. 64-year-old Sydney businessman, Philip George Sceats languished in Changi Prison for the next 353 days, under the pall of the capital charge.

 

Then one day, as unexpectedly as he had been arrested, he was taken from his cell to court where he was discharged of the capital charge and told to leave Singapore within 24 hours. 

 

Sceats’ arrest in Singapore on 7 March 2018 and his release from prison on 23 February 2019 was never reported by any media at the time.

 

It was only revealed when his story was picked up by Australian journalist Natalie O’Brien and published by News Corp Australia on 18 October 2020.

 

O’Brien wrote that Sceats’ wealthy Sydney family had booked a holiday in Langkawi for him and his wife, to celebrate his 64^th birthday.  Sceats was to fly from Sydney to Singapore, where he would wait for six hours to catch his connecting flight to Langkawi.  His wife who was in Hong Kong for business, would meet him in Langkawi. His family also booked him an airport hotel room for him to rest before his flight to Langkawi.

 

In the early hours of 7 March 2018, Sceats arrived at Changi Airport. Just as his passport was stamped by Singapore immigration, he heard police officers calling out his name. The police officers then escorted him to the luggage carousel to pick out his suitcase.

 

When his suitcase was opened in their presence, two packets of white powdery substance secured by masking tape were found inside the suitcase.

 

Sceats had no idea how those packets got into his suitcase.  The shocked and bewildered Australian was immediately handcuffed and conveyed to Changi Prison.

 

Meanwhile, the Singapore police had the two packets of white powder, which weighed about 90 grams in total, lab-tested.  They were found to contain 39.4 grams of cocaine.

 

Under Singapore law, anyone found in possession of more than three grammes of cocaine is presumed to have had that drug in possession for the purpose of trafficking unless it is proved that his or her possession of that drug was not for that purpose.

 

The penalty for trafficking more than 30 grammes of cocaine is death.

 

On 10 March 2018, the third day of his incarceration at Changi Prison, Sceats was formally charged with the capital charge of trafficking 39.4 grams of cocaine.

 

Facing the spectre of the hangman’s noose, Sceats’ plight could not be more dire. Fortunately for him, his family had the means, influence and determination to save his life. They engaged a well-known Singapore criminal lawyer to defend him against the capital charge. They also hired a team of high-credentialed private investigators and consultants to find evidence that would convince the Singapore authorities that he was innocent of the charge and that he had been set up by persons unknown.  Sceats’ high-powered team included former high-ranking police officers from three different Australian states.

 

The team took stock of the many things in Sceats’ case that did not add up. 

 

According to O’Brien, the street value in Sydney for the amount of cocaine found in Sceats’ suitcase was AUD $27,000 to AUD $30,000, but it was worth less than half of that in Singapore and Malaysia. There was no money to be made from smuggling cocaine from Australia to Singapore, so it was bizarre for anyone to attempt to do so.

 

Also, Sceats was not searched before he boarded his flight at Sydney. But by the time he arrived at Changi Airport, Singapore police officers were waiting for him. They knew his name and his arrival details. This meant that the Singaporean authorities had been tipped-off by someone after Sceats' flight left Sydney and before it arrived in Singapore.

 

After working on Sceats’ case for several months, his team of private investigators produced a thick file of evidence and documents. Sceats’ Singapore lawyer furnished the dossier to the Attorney-General Chambers, urging that his client was nothing more than an innocent holiday-maker who had been set-up.

 

On 23 February 2019, not knowing what to expect, Sceats was brought to Court. That day, a judge granted him a Discharge Not Amounting to an Acquittal.  Freed at last from his ordeal, Sceats returned to Australia.

 

While telling Sceats’ story, O’Brien’s article also related Sceats’ experience as a prisoner in Changi Prison. However, Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) had things to say about Sceats’ account of his time at Changi Prison.  It was MHA’s beef with Sceats’ depiction of local prison conditions that finally earned him a spot in The Straits Times.

 

On 3 November 2020, Straits Times published an article "MHA refutes Aussie's claims relating to time in remand here" which gave MHA’s rebuttals to Sceats’ account.  O’Brien’s article had stated:

 

1.       Sceats was held in death row.

MHA clarified that Sceats "was never housed together with inmates on death row" but in a separate area meant for remanded persons at Changi Prison. 

 

2.       Sceats said: “We were allowed out for 20 minutes at a time."

MHA clarified that Sceats was given an hour of "out-of-cell" time, along with all other inmates in remand.

 

3.       Sceats said "Guards come past your cell every hour. They don’t turn the lights out when you are on the death penalty."

MHA clarified that the cells for those in remand are fitted with lights that are scheduled to automatically switch off at night.

 

4.    Sceats said "It was very strict regime in there. If you do something wrong they give you the cane on the bare bum.  They say it is like sitting on a barbecue."

MHA clarified that inmates are only caned for serious offences, such as aggravated or repeated assault on another inmate, or assaulting a prison officer. This punishment is reviewed by an independent committee and is confirmed by the Commissioner of Prisons before it is carried out.

 

5.       Sceats said "I think 14 guys were executed while I was there."

 

Of all the details that Sceats had told O’Brien about his time at Changi Prison, this was the most chilling.

 

But MHA gave no rebuttal to that claim.

 

Was Sceats exaggerating? Sceats was in prison from 7 March 2018 to 23 February 2019. I looked up the 2018 and 2019 Annual Reports published by Singapore Prison Service. In 2018, there were 13 judicial executions.  In 2019, there were 4 judicial executions.

 

Sceats was about right when he said he reckoned 14 hangings were carried out during his time at Changi Prison. No wonder MHA said nothing about that.

 

While our national broadsheet’s coverage of Sceats’ story centred on explaining MHA’s rebuttals, Sceats’ story is not about prison conditions in Singapore. 

 

Sceats’ story is a cautionary tale of a holiday-maker who was arrested on arrival in Singapore and imprisoned for almost a year at Changi Prison on a capital charge; and how it took almost a year, during which strenuous efforts were made on his behalf, before his nightmare in Singapore ended.

 

Singapore may have closed its file on Sceats, but there is no closure for Sceats.

 

How did the Singapore Police come to know Sceats’ name and arrival details?

Who told Singapore Police Sceats' name and arrival details?

 

Sceats’ team wrote to both the Singapore and Australian authorities to find out, but no satisfactory answers have been obtained.

 

"I would give anything to know what really happened," Sceats had told O’Brien.

 

As for the rest of us, Sceats’ case raises several troubling questions.

 

Was the dossier prepared by Sceats’ team of private investigators instrumental in securing his freedom?

 

Could the Spore authorities have, on their own accord, eventually arrived at the conclusion that they had caught and imprisoned an innocent man?

 

If Sceats did not have the means and resources to obtain the best available expert help, would he have made it to freedom?

 

Villains had opened his suitcase, planted the contraband substance inside it, contacted the Singapore police and provided them with Sceats’ name and arrival details. Could what happened to Sceats, happen to anyone?

 

Perhaps Sceats’ profile and circumstances as a 64-year-old wealthy Australian businessman worked to make him an unlikely cocaine smuggler. 

 

If the next unlucky person to be framed by villains is one without means nor favourable profile – what would be his chances of escaping the hangman's noose?

 

Indeed, Sceats’ case is very curious, and also disturbing.

YANG MI: I WOULD BE GLAD TO BE LOVED FOR MY MONEY, FOR I HAVE LOTS OF IT

To the non-Chinese speaking world, Yang Mi 杨幂 is not a familiar name.

From her photos, one will be forgiven for mistaking Yang Mi as an airhead who earned her fame and fortune by looks and luck. 

Not so.  Yang Mi is astonishingly accomplished. Her glamourous image belies her professional skills and business capabilities.

Starting out as a child actress, Yang Mi has starred in a string of hit shows that she has become a household name in China. Some of her acting roles include less popular but critically acclaimed shows.

Not only an outstanding actress, Yang Mi is also a successful producer and talent manager.  While in her 20s, she founded a talent agency, Jay Walk Studio 嘉行传媒 which has now become a multi-million dollar entertainment company.  Actors and actresses under her agency have gone on to become huge, famous top-line stars in their own right. Her company has produced several popular shows.

The 35-year-old is now very wealthy, not by windfall, but earned by shrewd decisions, risks taken, untold sacrifice and personal costs.

Last month (May 2022), Yang Mi said something which sparked social media reactions.  At the Chinese variety show, Mao Xue Wang 毛雪汪 (EP16), the host, probing her love-life, asked Yang Mi: Where does security in love come from?  She replied, from oneself.  She went on to add: "If the guy is good to me because of my wealth, I will be delighted with that, because I do have money."  [1]

毛不易: 恋爱中的安全感来自于哪？

杨幂:自身。 甚至就想说，如果他是因为我有钱跟我好的话，我可太开心了，因为我有钱。

What does she mean by that?  Is she bragging about her wealth?

Having accomplished much and become so fabulously rich by her age, Yang Mi is a woman in a league of her own whom few (men) can match.

I'm not surprised she would say such things and think in such a way.

If we put aside her seeming audacious tone, I think you will see that her reasoning is grounded on logic and realism.

People can be disappointing, untrustworthy and also heart-breaking. People and feelings are unreliable.

Money on the other hand, is tangible, sure and dependable. We know exactly what money can do and what money cannot do. Money can buy goods and services, and also loyalty and servitude.  Money cannot buy love, but it can buy lovers.

Men have been saying for decades that diamonds are a girl’s best friend. So why fault a woman for thinking to use her cash to make her man feel king?

I think Yang Mi’s candid words show her personal view that true love is a fairy tale: that one cannot reasonably expect a man to commit and stay just because of love – the guy needs more concrete reasons to stick around. 

Rather than aiming to find a man who would love her for who she is inside of her skin, she will be happy with (to settle for?) someone who is willing to be with her (to put up with her?) in return for a slice of her wealth and the good life that come with it. 

In her worldview, the reachable and realistic aim is for a transactional relationship.  So, if the guy loves her because of her money, she would be very glad, because she has lots of it.

Is there even such a thing as true, unconditional love? Or is true love a wished-for fantasy, non-existent in reality?

Well, I'd like to believe that true love exists - that one can love and commit to another, not caring whether the other is a prince or a pauper, in sickness and in health as the adage goes.

But perhaps true love is not so easy to find.  Many have given up the search.

If there is any truth in the suspicion that true love, though it exists, is elusive to most, even more so to extraordinarily capable and exceptionally successful women like Yang Mi, then one cannot fault such a woman for putting faith in her money, rather than in the heart of her man.

---

[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1JveWzD5RU

Ascending The Monument

The Challenge: Climb 311 steps to the top of the tower - or so I thought. 

Standing 62 metres / 203 feet tall, the 'Monument to the Great Fire of London' is a fluted Doric column located in Central London, built between 1671 to 1677.

311 steps? No biggee. I climb the slopes of Bukit Timah Nature Reserve regularly. I paid the entrance fee of £5.80 and proceeded.  (The date was Sunday, 1 May 2022.) 

Little did I know what I had signed myself up for. 

The stairwell was a narrow tube containing a spiral staircase, just wide enough for one other person to brush past you. 

Very soon, I began to feel like I was walking up an endless curl, churning indefinitely. 

How long more to the top? I began to wonder. Instinctively, I looked up: only to see stairs spiralling upwards with no endpoint in sight. Big mistake. Panic rattled the doorknob of my mind, trying to enter. I fought a desire to quit and turn back down. 

I pressed on, but it seemed like I was climbing a forever spiral, walking up ascending circles indefinitely. It was surreal. It felt like I was looping a spiral version of the Penrose stairs. Claustrophobia was now nipping at my heels. 

To escape claustrophobia, I eyed the walls, looking for a window to the sky. Instead, I saw elongated windows like slits in the cylinder walls, so narrow that it was hard to see the outside. Distorted windows that promised but obscured view of the outside, added a sense of desperation. 

I stopped to catch my breath. 

Dotting the spiral column were climbers like me making their way up, even as others were making their way down. The muted din of their chatter was a comforting white noise. I sought to breathe in the air of their enthusiasm. 

A man a few steps below me on the opposite saw my hesitation. He caught my eye and said affirmatively, "You can do it!" His timely encouragement billowed my sails. Spurred, I determined to finish the climb. I had come this far. The only choice was to reach the top. I took a deep breath and then pounded up the remaining steps for the final assault. 

Yes, I did reach the top - winded, dizzy and somewhat daunted. 

I staggered to the parapet to wave to my husband and son who were on the ground looking out for me. 

I felt no joy at topping the tower, but dread that I had to go back into the darn tube to get back to the ground.

To get myself down, I decided to count the 311 steps aloud to myself as I descended. I figured that doing a countdown would give me the mental assurance that the curl will end eventually. That was how I made it through the narrow tube back to the ground without panicking. 

Who knew that the challenge was not about finishing a climb of 311 steps. The real challenge was to complete the journey of travelling up a high, mentally uncomfortable vertical tunnel. It was not a test of physical fitness but of mental fortitude. 

When climbing 10 storeys of a building, you would walk up straight flights of stairs, going one way and then the opposite way, usually wide enough for three people to walk abreast. Not to mention, there will be exit doors at every floor. That is not the case when ascending a 60 metre spiral staircase inside a narrow tube.

Did I enjoy the experience? Nope, it was scary. 

Would I do it again? Absolutely not!