Jun 30, 2011 at 10:03 o\clock

Students Exchange Programmes

by: henry

Floorball has been my eldest daughter's favourite game since her Polytechnic days. Through her club in the university, they were invited to have a game of floorball with their Australian counterparts. From the 3rd to 13th July 2011, her team of floorball players will be flying to Melbourne on a tour cum tournament trip,  participating in the 'Australian Floorball Open 2011'.

One week upon her return from Australia, she will leave home again.This time she will be going to study in South Korea for six months under the University 'Student Exchange Programme'.

While there, she'll start to learn about their cultures, their languages, understanding their ways of life, interacting with the locals...etc. Most important of all, she'll learn how to live independently in a foreign country. Her experiences will help her a lot in her future employment, simply because all the above qualities are what employers will be looking for!

Wishing you the best, girl! Gonna miss you a lot!





Jun 8, 2011 at 08:47 o\clock

The Golden Bracelet

by: henry

With referral from the clinical doctor, my mom was admitted to Changi General Hospital for five days observation . Earlier in the day, she could not stand on her feet after urinating. The test results that came in day after day were encouraging. That left her with the last medical report, X ray. As the report came in, we were told that both her kidneys have shrunk incredibly. On the fifth day, she was transferred to Singapore General Hospital

We were given two options by the Doctor. One was for her to undergo kidney dialysis. From the Doctor's professional point of view, it was not advisable because of mom's age at seventy-six. Her heart might not be able to withstand it and furthermore, it would only prolong her life for a mere few months at most. Second option was for her to survive just on medication. After discussion with my siblings, weighing the pros and cons, we chose the second
option...medication. Nobody would like to stay in the hospital, so was mom. After one week, we took her home. On the second day, she complained of chest pain and she was readmitted to hospital.

Everything went on fine for the next few days except for her kidneys. Then, her conditions deteriorated. One of her eyes shut and she could nott talk. Her body was itched all over and she could not scratch properly with her hands jerking. The purpose of kidney dialysis was to remove all unwanted waste products from the blood and to maintain the blood pressure. Because mom was just on
medication, the waste products from the blood was not expelled but circulated over and over again. That caused her body to be itched and her hands jerked. As her son, it was my duty to do the scratching for her. Days went by, received news that mom was placed under DIL (dangerously ill list) as she was in a coma. We were told to be mentally prepared by the doctor as she was given
forty-eight hours to live. My siblings and I took turns to be by her side twenty-four hours a day. Sitting by her side, holding her weak, fragile hand...the hand that fed me, bathed me was really...really painful. My eyes welled up, followed by big teardrops streaming down my cheeks. I bowed my head, hoping some kind of God of whatever faith would appear before me. I would kneel before "Him", begging "Him" to save my mom. I would open my heart and accept "Him" as my saviour and as my God. It was only the naive side of me. Forty-eight hours have gone by, nothing happened. According to the nurses-in-attendance, from their experiences and observations, given these kind of low blood pressure, my mom should have left this world. Seemed like she had some unfulfilled wishes or simply waiting for someone to turn up. All family members have visited her including in-laws. Then, it dawned upon my sister the incidence regarding the "golden bracelet".

My eldest brother had known his wife since they were youngsters. They worked together, played together and even lived together. One day, he told mom he was finally getting married. My mom was very happy, bought a gold bracelet, intended to present it to my sis-in-law on her wedding day and that was when my sis-in-law would offer a cup of tea to mom. But, for reasons unknown to us, my brother did not went through any wedding ceremony, no wedding celebration, nothing. And during all these years, my sis-in-law addressed my mom as auntie. This incidence was made known to my brother. On that night, my sister brought the gold bracelet to hospital. Putting it onto the palm of my mom and grabbing it with her hand, my sister told my sis-in-law, "now, I represent mom and hand over the golden bracelet to you". After receiving the gold bracelet, with a cup of tea on hand, my sis-in-law said " mom, please accept and drink this cup of tea". My sister took the cup and wetted my mom's lips with some tea. At that very moment, my mom murmured something. Though inaudible, she responded! Was that her unfulfilled wishes? Handling over the golden bracelet and hearing my sis-in-law addressing her as mom for the first time? We were all overjoyed. The next day, I visited her with my wife. My wife started to massage her right hand. She responded by lifting her left hand and said "it's ok, it's enough". She regained consciousness and was able to talk and move, though restricted.

After a few weeks, she was transferred to Doverpark Hospice , a hospital for the terminally ill. We visited her on a regular basis. On December 11th 2003, at 0340hrs, received a call from my nephew that mom was having difficulties in breathing and hospital staff requested our presence. All of us were there by 0410hrs. At 0438 hrs, my mom gave out a deep sigh. Sigh of happiness that all
her children were there to see her? Sigh of contentment that all her children have grown up? It was not to be, in fact she was mustering all her strength to take in her last breath of earthly air and returned it to Mother Nature. I was orphaned from that very moment. My world collapsed. My mind went wild with memories, to the day when I was a young boy. I recalled the time she fetched me to and from school, bought me ice-creams, sweets, dressed me, how she scolded and caned me for being naughty. Now I realized that all these caning were parts and parcels of a mother's good intentions. I told myself that I should have treated her even better when she was around. Why must human be such that when we possessed something, we do not know how to treasure it, only to regret when we loss them.

As I needed a closure badly, I came to terms with myself. This is what life is all about. Wherever my mom might be now, she will have all my blessings.


Aug 8, 2009 at 12:12 o\clock

My Eldest Daughter

by: henry

In the year 1999, when my eldest daughter was just a 10 year old, she make known to my sister that it was her greatest wish to enter university. For her Primary School Leaving Certificate (PSLE), she scored an aggregate of 263 points, making her the top 10% of students in Singapore.


She entered into Secondary School for the next four years. For her Singapore-Cambridge General Certificate Of Education (ordinary Level) or so called GCE ‘O’, she did quite well to earn herself a place in a prestigious Polytechnic. She graduated from the Polytechnic with flying colors this year. She scored 11 distinctions and 13 As in her 3 years at the Polytechnic. Her GPA score was 3.82 out of a possible 4. She excelled herself for being one of the top 3 students of her cohort. For that, she was awarded the Bronze Medal and also received the Knight Frank Prize for being the best student of the subject “Real Estate Business”.


Even before graduation from the Polytechnic, she was courted by both the National University of Singapore and the Nanyang Technological University. After much consideration, she chose Nanyang Technological University to study for her Degree in Bachelor Of Business Administration. Her next wish? Got words that she’s going all the way for her MBA!!


As the university was some distance from my home, she moved in to stay at the hostel.

And today, she started to live independently. For the next 3 years she’ll be taking care of herself and all by herself.


I feel so proud and happy for her.

Go for the Degree, girl, go for it and I know you’ll make it!!!


I love you!!


Jun 15, 2007 at 22:24 o\clock

My son, the 'Monica'

by: henry

 Written by my 11-year-old son.

 I was a sexy, slender and shapely teenage girl. My name was Monica Cheng. It was a lovely day. I was on a taxi, going to meet my boyfriend. The taxi driver was driving at a snail’s pace. The Honda behind the taxi horned loudly at us. The Honda suddenly swerved in front of us.  The taxi nearly crashed into the Honda. Suddenly, both cars screeched to a stop. Both drivers stormed out of the cars and began to spit vulgarities. The taxi driver, Ah Gua, spat out offensive words too, though in a sissy tone. Ah Beng, the driver of the Honda, could not control his temper and gave Ah Gua a power kick. Ah Gua slapped Ah Beng slightly with tears in his eyes. Ah Beng was getting angrier and angrier by the moment. Ah Beng threw his hands and legs everywhere, injuring Ah Gua seriously. Seeing this kind of thing happening, I quickly got out of the taxi and asked for help.  The passers-by were unwilling to help. Fortunately a young boy offered to lend me his hand phone. Looking up at him, I realized that it was my boyfriend. I took the phone and dialed 999.   A few minutes later, the siren of the police could be heard. The police came and immediately arrested Ah Beng and sent Ah Gua to the hospital. After a period of time, Ah Gua recuperated. And the day was saved thanks to the sexy Monica Cheng!

Oct 17, 2006 at 14:43 o\clock

The Taste Of Poverty

by: henry

Digging deep into my pocket for some shillings to buy myself a cup of coffee, I realized that forty cents was all I have. In my hay days, money was never a problem. My pay packet was in the above average range as compared to national standard. I was a big spender then, mostly on alcohol. Life was comfortable and the words ‘raining days’ did not exist in my mind. Soon, my savings were depleted, even my Credit Cards and overdraft went burst.


Food at home was scarce. Everyday, my children would have instant noodles. It came to a stage whereby the mention of ‘maggie mee’ makes them puked. I can’t even afford to provide them with basic essential needs. I would stuff four or five slices of plain white bread into my mouth and washed it down with water and that was my meal for the day. It’s neither my intention nor wishes for my children to suffer with me. I did not expect to be thrown into this kind of situation. The taste of poverty was very bitter. That was the darkest moment in my life.


I started to ask for loans from one of my friends, only to be told that it must be repay in one month’s time. Next, I seek help from my second sister-in-law who had struck rich in TOTO a few months ago with well over nine hundred thousand dollars. I was told to call her up the next day as to the place and time she would meet me. She too, played tricks on me. My eldest brother called me, asking me with regards of my borrowing from second sister-in-law. What happened was, without my knowledge, she called my eldest brother to borrow money despite her wealth. Her reason, if my brother did not lend her the money, then she would not have the money to lend it to me. As my plight came into light, my siblings chipped in, providing me with provisions and cash. For once, I was awaken to the question of what friendship and relative was all about. For once, I felt the warmness offered by my siblings.


As the economy grew better with overtimes available, I worked for it in order to service my bank loans. As my financial statues got better and with a little bit of luck, I was able to clear all my debts to the tune of twenty thousand dollars. Well, nowadays I still have a few drinks but on a lesser note. After all, a leopard will never change its spot. Either it grows darker or a little bit lighter.


Jun 13, 2006 at 12:40 o\clock

Encounter on the train

by: henry

Standing two arms length away from me on the MRT train was a lady in her late thirties. Though not convincingly pretty compared to those around, somehow I was captivated by her.

I started to look hard at her side face. Not feeling comfortable with the nature of stares, she showed signs of uneasiness, giving me a quick glance through the corners of her eyes and fidgeting most of the times. Sizing her up to be the shy type , I changed tactics. I would turn my head s..l..o..w..l..y, sweeping across her face with my eyes , to and fro. She noticed what was going on but at least it was within her comfort zone. These went on for quite some times. Further down the stations, a young and beautiful lady boarded the train, standing next to me. On the contrary, she was an exhibitionist. Like a model, I was fascinated by her poses. The older lady looked in our directions, bowed her head and stared blankly onto the floor board. Her body language told me that she felt neglected and that I was a fickle-minded person. To ensure her of my truthfulness, I erased all images captured on the young lady from my eyes and refocussed my thoughts on her. Giving full attentions, this time I became bolder by looking straight into her eyes. She lifted her face a little and adjusted her posture to face me. At last, she was giving me the honor, with her blessings, to admire what I deemed was beautiful.

Good times did not last long. Soon, it was time for her to alight. Looking directly into my eyes for the first time, she presented me with a smile.....smile of appreciation that I have chosen her over a much younger and prettier lady. Nodding my head with a smile. I just wanted to tell her.....'you're just beautiful, thank you'.


Jun 12, 2006 at 09:19 o\clock

King Bhumibol Adulyadej

by: henry

His Majesty, King Bhumibol Adulyadej is the most respectable person in the world. Instead of enjoying life in the Royal Palace, His Majesty chose to travel all over Thailand, looking into the problems and needs of all villagers. His Majesty spend most of his time solving their problems by inventing new methods of agriculture and so forth. His Majesty patent all his inventions, not for monetary gains but for his people to use free of charge.
The kind of respects and love showered on His Majesty, by the people of Thailand is rare in this world.
His Majesty, The King, is only a few that I respect most. Though a foreigner, I would like to join Thailand in celebrating the King's 60th anniversary on the throne.
Long Live His Majesty, King Bhumibol Adulyadej !


Jun 11, 2006 at 03:57 o\clock

The Spyros Case

by: henry

On 26th December 2004, a dozen Asian countries were struck by tsunamis, claiming well over 150,000 lives with a further million people displaced. Countries around the world responded swiftly, with billions of dollars pledged towards the relief package and reconstruction of the affected countries. Way back in Singapore, the Government, Singapore Red Cross, SPH and numerous organisations appealed for donations. Within a space of one week, tens of millions of dollars were raised, tons of foods, clothings and essential items collected. This disaster reminds me of an industrial accident that took place in Singapore 27 years ago, termed 'The Spyros Case'.

One ship or 'vessel' as in marine terms, was undergoing repairs at one of the major shipyards in Singapore. In fact, this vessel was undergoing major overhauling of the Engine Room. Engine room is where all the turbines and machinery parts needed to propel and operate the ship are located. There are lots of fuel oil pipes running from main deck down to engine room. Pipes are welded onto flanges. After which the flanges will be coupled up with bolts and
nuts. What happened on that fateful day?

There was this particular pipe line to be renewed. As it was a fuel oil pipe, with gases inside, the shipyard's safety officer did not approved any hot work. Cold work permit was issued instead, that was, to dismantle the bolts and nuts by using spanners. As the bolts and nuts were heavily corroded, the pipe fitter
encountered lots of difficulties. When the saftety officer was not around, for his own convenience, he used an oxy-acetylene cutting torch instead. The sparks produced got into contact with the gases in the pipe. Gases ignited and it back-fired all the way to engine room. Flash fire occured, explosion took place followed by fire in engine room. Initially, a dozen workers were confirmed dead
with a few hundred workers injured with burns all over their bodies. Appeals were sent out for cash and blood donations. Singaporeans and foreign workers
alike responded in a way I have not seen before. Taxi drivers and hawkers from all over the island donated their days taking towards the fund set up for the victims' families. Workers from other industries donated generously. Companies after companies sent their employees on chartered buses to designated make-shift tents for blood donations. The response was overwhelming. Day after day, more and more casualties were announced. Most of the injured suffered third degree burn, some could not make it. Singapore was plunged into a sombre state. The atmospheric presence in Singapore was very eerie as though mourning for the deceased. At last count, 76 families loss their loved ones with hundreds injured. Singapore experienced one of its worst casualties from a single accident in peacetime. The pipe fitter was found guilty and put behind bars for a few years. The vessel 'Spyros' was later sent to a scrapeyard,never to sail the sea again.

This industrial accident had such an impact on me that whenever I think of it, the date of that fateful day just surface in my mind ..... automatically ..... October, 12th, 1978.

Jun 10, 2006 at 13:50 o\clock


by: henry

Once, during my schooling days, I was going to my classmate's house which was within walking distance. To save up on time and energy, I opted for short-cuts. I entered a stretch of sandy path which was quite deserted in the afternoon.

Everything went fine until I saw a dog walking towards me from the opposite direction. From a distance, I started to stare at him. He reciprocated by doing the same to me. I kept staring at him without lifting my sight off him. So was he. As we passed by each other, I turned my head around to look at him. Ridiculous! he followed suit, turning his head around while pacing slowly forward. I told myself , "no, no, no, as a human being, I won't allow a dog to stare at me, to bully me. I am going to teach this dog a lesson. I'm going to use the stoop-down-pick-a-rock tactics to frighten him." And that was exactly what I did.

The action taken by me proved effective. 'He' started running ... at least from the dog's point of view. What happened? The 'He' referred to myself. The dog turned around and chased me. Throwing the stone aside and not at the dog, I just ran all the way. For how long he chased me, I didn't know. I didn't dare to look back. Maybe that was precisely what the dog wanted to tell me, "Don't stare at me!"

Jun 8, 2006 at 03:42 o\clock


by: henry

By and large, women are more sensitive and hence more suspicious of what is happening around them.

Some years back, my former colleagues organised an outing. Activities included bowling, dinner and disco dancing. I requested for karaoke. They obliged, karaoke was an additional item.

We started off with bowlings. Most of us were beginners. Ladies' colleagues throwing balls with both hands, rolling slowly forward... hit some pins and started falling in slow motions. Wrong tactics of throwing balls...from a height, hit the floor with a bang and into the drain. Games of the day were funs and not rules. Our average score? 250 to 300 ! I mean, needed another 250 pins to reach 300, the perfect score.

For dinner, we have steam-boats. Lots of uncook dishes were available. Prawns, beefs, slices of fish, fishballs, squids, clayfishes, cockles...etc. We would place the prawns and whatever we liked onto a scoop individually and put it into a pot of boiling water which was placed in the centre of the table. For cockles, I would like to eat it raw instead of cooked.

Next item? Karaoke, of course ! Crooned my ways through the night with whatever vibration cords provided by mother nature. Colleagues applauded and my singings praised. But, actually they were just encouraging me as my singings got out of tunes. Remember games of the day? 'Have funs and not rules.'

The moment we entered the disco, everybody were at the dance floor except me. As a guy who did not like to sway my hips, I found it more enjoyable watching. With beers on hands and legs tapping to the tempo, I enjoyed every bits of it.

Reached home at the wee hours. Took off everything, jumped into bed. Woke up next day with hangovers and with barrage of questions from wife.

Wife : “Where were you actually, last night?”

Me : “bowling, dinner, karaoke and disco.”

Wife : “how come there were bloods on your shirt?”

Me : “I did not injured myself, what blood?'

Wife : “ I don't kno...w.” (angry)

Me : “ oh yes, for dinner, I ate raw cockles, I must have got the blood stain from it”

Wife : “ I don't kno...w, only you yourself knew what you have committed last night.”

Now... , it dawned upon me that she suspected me of having a jolly good times with ladies last night, a virgin, maybe. I was dumbfounded. Could not decide whether to laugh or to get angry. I told her, “take a good look at your husband. Hoping for a virgin to visit me in my dreams is already hard, enjoying with one physically is harder that the 'hardest' words you can find in a dictionary.” With that, I headed back to bed. Hugging tightly onto my bolster, I went into dreamland, in search of ......



Jun 6, 2006 at 12:36 o\clock

Simple mathematics

by: henry

Still on my eldest daughter when she was a 6 year-old kid.

We were having our meals at one of the KFC outlets in a shopping mall, facing the main road. She pestered my wife to buy her a belt. My wife explained that belts were meant for boys and not girls. Looking out acoss the road, she spotted a lady waiting for public transport. She said, "mummy, that big sister is wearing a belt, can you explain?" My wife told her that only adults wore belts and promised to buy her one when she grew up. She replied that when she grew up, she should be able to buy one herself and she can even afford to buy us one. She complained that her mom was talking about the future and not the present.

After our meals, we went shopping. She kept running around. My wife told her that if she misbehaved, she will call in the police to catch her. Instant reply from her, "If I am apprehended by the police, how many daughters are you left with?"

Nowadays, children are smarter than parents. You threatened them with police, they frightened you with simple mathematical symbols ..... the minus sign.

Getting ready to perform on stage

May 5, 2006 at 12:55 o\clock

Beer Is Cool

by: henry

Calling it a day after four years of services with the company, a former lady colleague decided to return to China. As my senior and mentor, I decided to present her with a gift for rememberance purposes. Intentions were made known to my wife and off I went in search of one. Looking for a present was the hardest things to do. Finally, I decided on a white-gold chain with pendant.

Placing it on the table soon aroused the curiousity of my wife. Opened the box, took a glance, put it down and with her lower lips protruding out with face looking skyward, she marched to her room. Not knowing the seriousness of the situation I was in, came my youngest daughter. After inspecting what was inside the box, she asked “mommy, papa bought this chain for whom?” Adding petrol to fire. Instant reply, “don't ask me, ask papa yourself!” Volcano going to erupt anytime. To spare the agony of been thrown into this kind of situation, I excused myself and went out for some drinks.

By the time I reached home, my wife was already in bed. I crawled slowly onto bed making doubling sure not to wake or worse still activate the 'volcano.' By avoiding this kind of unnecessary confrontation, maybe she managed to cool herself down a bit. As for me, with beer around ... very...very...coooool.



May 4, 2006 at 15:31 o\clock

Insomnia and Stress

by: henry

At my workplace, heard a lady colleague saying that she could not sleep. Taught her a trick or two to overcome the problem. I told her :-

“ If you want to have a good night sleep, free your mind of all thoughts. Counting sheeps jumping over the fence is a thing of the past. Never think of a tall and handsome guy, by doing so, you will definitely get more excited and maybe some oohs and aahs will be coming out from your room. How to sleep?

Solution? Well...just think of me and no one else! The moment my face appears, you will start complaining, 'Henry so ugly, thinking of him is just a waste of my time, might as well get some sleep'. There you are, you will be sleeping like a log in no time – thanks to me.'”

Though I poked fun on myself, it was for a worthy cause. I wanted to drive home the point that we should relax ourselves, both mentally and physically. Any thoughts that stimulate excitement or unhappiness will result in sleepless nights.

I , personally have gone through all these torments. With problems on hand, I would wake up automatically in the middle of the nights as though a timer had been etched into my mind. Going through my problems, my body became stiffed and started trembling with fears. These went on for a few months. I was totally stressed out. I started to communicate with my inner-self, “here I am , trying to find a solution to these problems, now, what?, pondering over the problems nights after nights and it came to noughts, with whole body shivering.” I pacified myself to cool down and leave it to mother nature. I managed to convince myself after a tough fight.

Nowadays, whatever happens, be it personal or work-related, no matter how serious it might be, I will be able to give myself a decent sleep. Not because I am an irresponsible person but I have learned to impose self-control over my emotional feelings as far as sleep is concern.

To combat insomnia or stress, the battle is only a matter of you against yourself. Let's overcome it and have a gooooooood sleep.

Goodnight !

May 3, 2006 at 12:19 o\clock

Bra versus friendship

by: henry

Apr 30, 2006 at 11:46 o\clock

Cat and Crayon

by: henry

Feb 27, 2006 at 14:50 o\clock

The Chinese Language

by: henry

Visited D-Manz weblog today, D-manbitesdog, with regards to the chinese language. It was not only interesting but hillarious!

To D-Manz,

The chinese language consists of four tones to determine the pronounciation of a word. Take the word 'ma' for example. Given the following :

First tone - it means 'mother'.

Second tone - it means 'jute'.

Third tone - it means 'horse'.

Fourth tone - it means 'scold' or 'scolded'.

First scenairo,

If, out of concern, you were to ask your fellow chinese colleague, 'Did boss scolded you?'. If your pronounciation was at the first tone, what message did your colleague received? Answer, 'Did boss mother you?'

Second scenairo,

You were invited by your chinese colleague to his house for some kind of celebrations. To impress upon him your ability to speak a little chinese, your intention was to ask, 'is that your mother over there?' Same mistake...wrong pronounciation! It turns out to be 'Is that your horse over there?', given the third tone.

Well D-Manz, I do not know what would happen but I could forsee your colleague in his shaolin posture, likely to strike you any time and his mother sweeping you out of the house with a broom - china made.


Feb 14, 2006 at 01:38 o\clock

Happy Valentine Day

by: henry

Calling all ladies, won't you be my Valentine today? No Guys, please, for I'm a man ... a man adhering strictly to the rules laid down by mother-nature, if you get what I mean.

Wishing all lovers on earth 'A Happy Valentine Day'.

Jan 16, 2006 at 15:05 o\clock

Lim Cher

by: henry

For my fellow colleague.

Dec 11, 2005 at 00:01 o\clock

2nd Anniversary

by: henry

I can remember how I was summoned to Doverpark Hospice by my nephew in the wee hours. I can still remember clearly…an old, weak and fragile woman lying in bed.  My siblings and I witnessed… the moment of truth…mustering all her strength to take in her last breath of earthly-air and returning it to mother-nature.

At that moment, I felt a sharp pain in my heart…a pain that cannot be described by words…as though a sword had been drawn into it.

For today, December 11th marks  the second anniversary of my mom’s death…..


Oct 21, 2005 at 10:47 o\clock

The Lock-Up

by: henry

In my previous entry, “My encounter with drugs”, two plain-clothed narcotic officers came knocking at my house’s door. After acknowledging them and making their intentions known, I agreed to follow them to the police station.


When we reached downstairs, there was a police car waiting for us. Behind the wheel was an Indian, in police uniform. I started to ask the narcotic officer as to whether the person who reported me, wrote in or phoned in. Feeling agitated or most likely, trying to show off his statues as a policeman that he felt great of, the driver yelled at me. “If you take drugs, do you want me to send you to Headquarter?” I was so bloody upset by this matter that I shouted back at him. “I’m now in your hand, you can send me to wherever you like. If I’ve got the rights to decide, I’ll tell you, send me home now!”  From his facial reaction, it can be clearly seen that he was astounded by my remarks, for he did not expect a civilian to yell back at him, a policeman. Good for him and me. At least he kept his bloody mouth shut for the rest of the journey.


Over at the police station, they took my statements. Next, they took my urine in a container, to be sent for testing. Results would be known in two weeks’ times, given the technology of that time. I was told to call home to get someone to bail me out.  Meantime, the most appropriate place, prior to someone to bail me out, was the lock-up area.


Near the door entrance was a policeman with a desk and a whiteboard on the wall.  I was told to go inside the cell. Walking along the corridor, on my left hand side were six cells. So, I went inside one. Though I was inside, the door was not locked, so I didn’t felt like I’m really in lock-up. Moreover, there was a magazine on the floor. So, I made good use of it.


Ten minutes later, the policeman called for me. He said “A!”  What the hell was he doing? Can’t a policeman be more polite? Can’t he address me with “hello Mr” or something more soothing to my ears other than ‘A’? Anyway, I went up to him. He asked for my name and home phone, after which he wrote it on the white-board. I went back to my cell. Just reading one paragraph into the magazine, there goes the bloody policeman again, ‘A!”. Poking my head halfway out of the cell, I asked “why?” He said, “come here!” Not feeling comfortable with the way he addressed me, this time I loose my temper, “Come here…come here, for what?” He yelled at me, “I say come here, you better listen!”  I yelled back at him, “if you’ve got questions for me, ask me in one shot, not one question at every few minutes!” He started to loose his patience, “you better come here right now!”  Sensing that he’d got the upper hand, I went up to him eventually. This time, he asked for my home address.


When I went back to my cell, he followed from behind. He took away the magazine. I asked him, “am I not allowed to read magazine?”  Not only did he ignored my question but this time he did a proper lock up of the cell. That’s the only time in my life that I’ve been in a lock up!