SINGAPORE: It was a night of revelry, as six friends - all gang members aged from 17 to 28 - gathered at a pub in Orchard Towers on November 23, 2007 to celebrate a birthday.

But the gathering ended in tragedy when a brawl broke out, and by 6am, a 37-year-old stranger was pronounced dead after being kicked and punched by the six friends.

The sextet - namely Ahmad Nur Helmy, Muhammed Ridhwan Mohammed Roslan, Helmi Abdul Rahim, Ho Ching Boon, Lai Chee Kuen and Muhammed Suffian Zainal - were collared in a matter of days after the incident, and charged with the murder of Mr Suhaimi Sulong.

On Tuesday, they appeared at the Subordinate Court and pleaded guilty, but to a lesser charge - voluntarily causing grievous hurt.

The charges were probably downgraded because the attack was not premeditated, explained one lawyer.

With friends and family crowding the packed courtroom, all six remained emotionless even as Deputy Public-Prosecutor (DPP) Samuel Chua unveiled the gruesome details of the attack on Mr Suhaimi.

The fight took place at around 5am near Brown Sugar, a pub on the second floor. According to court documents, the fracas began when Ho, 18, and Lai, who at 17 was underaged, left the pub after they spotted police officers performing checks.

While they were waiting outside the pub for their friends to turn up, Mr Suhaimi approached the duo and began making lewd comments and offering sexual services. The teenagers decided to ignore him and head back to the club.

At about 4am, Mr Suhaimi approached Ahmad Nur Helmy - the birthday boy - while he was in the toilet, exposing himself to the 20-year-old in the process. Angered, Ahmad summoned his friends and they confronted the victim.

Eyewitnesses said the group began chasing after Mr Suhaimi while shouting “jangan lari”, which meant “don’t run” in Malay. They also asked Mr Suhaimi if he was a homosexual.

But when he didn’t answer and tried to flee, Ahmad grabbed the victim’s T-shirt and began kicking and punching him.

Although the rest initially tried to break up the fight, they eventually joined the fray and began throwing a volley of kicks on Mr Suhaimi.

They then dragged Mr Suhaimi down to the first-floor entrance and threw him into a taxi, court documents said.

By then, the victim was motionless and bloodied from the attack. He had also sustained head injuries and was taken unconscious to the Singapore General Hospital by ambulance.

The victim was pronounced dead at 6.02am and an autopsy later revealed that he had died from blunt force injuries to his head and neck.

Over the next few days, police arrested his attackers. On November 27, Helmi Abdul Rahim, 28, surrendered himself to the authorities.

The six men, all out on bail, are due to appear in court on October 28 for sentencing. All six face imprisonment for a term which may extend to 10 years, and they may also be fined or caned.

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Channel News Asia

LET us be realistic: No amount of acts, laws and regulations can ensure better ties among our people.

Race relations are about people, not punitive measures, sanctions or court rulings. It is all about how we accept, tolerate and live with each other.

Perhaps too much emphasis has been given to the role of politics and politicians in ensuring harmony among the races. Perhaps we are expecting too much from them. We are disappointed with them for playing the race card. We criticise the race-based politics that has redefined our existence as a nation. We all know how racial issues are being played up unashamedly by some, sometimes without even realising the consequences of those actions.

We ought to look at ourselves: we the people. We have to find a people’s solution to the problem. We matter. We can decide the destiny of this beloved nation of ours. We can make the difference. Where politicians failed, we must take the initiative. Let’s call it People’s Initiative. We have to look beyond politics and politicians.

We have to admit that our people are drifting apart. We have been talking about it quite a lot of late. We even mooted the idea of a Race Relations Act. Again we are resorting to acts, laws and regulations. We must not fall into the trap of using laws and regulations to manage everything, more so race relations in this country.
Perhaps we should be asking ourselves why we drifted apart in the first place? Why were we more successful before? We pride ourselves as the poster boy in managing race relations among developing nations. We have done remarkably well actually. Our track record is commendable. It’s just that we need to do more.

Things have taken a turn for the worse. Sensitive issues are being raised to fever pitch. The 2008 general election saw the rearing of the ugly head of racial politics.

We must heal the divided nation. We need everyone’s contribution to make this place a harmonious one — I don’t mean the political definition of it, but the people’s.

Let us look at the big picture. For one, we are segregated. Our children do not go to the same schools. That is one critical element to begin with.

We can argue about diversity and uniqueness, but in the end we miss the opportunity for our people to integrate from a very young age. They live in their own enclaves, with very little or no contact with others. Interactions are kept at a bare minimum.

The role of Bahasa Malaysia, the language that is supposed to bind us, is often taken for granted.

I have my own story to tell. I went to an English school in the 1960s. There were 24 of us in the class — 16 Chinese, seven Malays and one Indian. It was the only English school within 40km of the nearest town. We were pioneers.

The village itself was a portrait of harmony. A row of Chinese shophouses had existed for as long as one can remember. The Chinese boys and girls went to Chinese schools while all my friends went to Malay schools.

But outside school, we were friends. Childhood in Sungai Balang Besar transcended race. Malay, Javanese and Chinese boys played together.

When the Chinese and Malay orchard owners found that their durians and rambutans were stolen, they knew the culprits were Chinese and Malay boys.

There was in fact the legend of Wak Samad, the gravedigger who saved Chinese families in my village when a parang-wielding mob rampaged through the area in the 1948 race riot in Parit Jawa. Led by one Pawang Salleh, they came from Batu Pahat.

When they reached my village, the remaining Chinese families were at the mercy of the mob. Wak Samad stood in front of the shops warning them that those people were his anak buah (wards).

The gravedigger’s words carried a lot of weight. There was no untoward incident in the village. The story of Wak Samad is part of the local folklore remembered fondly by Chinese elders.

My father was a barber in the afternoon, a rubber tapper in the morning. He rented a small shop in the village. His neighbours were all Chinese shopkeepers who called him Jakpo Gunting (Jakpo the Barber). I spent lots of time with the shopkeepers’ sons and daughters.

I remember my father told me the Chinese even bought pork discreetly by special delivery so as not to offend the Malays.

One of my best friends at school was one bubbly Chinese boy, Wong Chin Hock. The other boy, Jumadi was the son of a movie theatre owner in Semerah. We were so close that we called ourselves Panglima Tiga Serangkai (Three Warriors).

We parted ways after Form Three. But we made a promise — every 10 years we were supposed to meet at a specific place, just for old times sake, regardless of what we do and who we are.

In 1978, 10 years after we made the promise, I went to the place that meant so much to us. I waited but they didn’t turn up.

I was there again in 1988 and 1998, and I was alone. Early this year I did the same, and they were nowhere to be seen.

I met them a couple of times over the years. But I never reminded them of the childhood promise we made. Perhaps they have forgotten all about it. Perhaps I am being too nostalgic. But I wanted to keep my promise.

When I wrote a children’s book entitled Tangan-tangan Kaku (published by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka in 1974), I immortalised Chin Hock as one of the three major characters in the novel.

My encounters with the various races since my childhood days have helped me tremendously in understanding others. Malaysians need that. We must begin from a young age.

Harmony is not just about going to Hari Raya, Chinese New Year or Deepavali open house. It is not just about superficial encounters. It is a socialisation process that takes time, patience and lots of understanding.

New Straits Times

In a kampung, everything outside your house is a garden, just waiting to be explored.

Feeling frazzled from the onslaught of festive celebrations? Take heart, says DESMOND HO, for nature is here to heal you.

Take a path less trodden and who knows what you’ll encounter. Just enjoy the tranquillity.

SOME of you might still be on holiday today, enjoying the festive season with family and friends back in your kampung.

Many will still be recovering from the stress of that long drive back to their hometowns and a great many more will be ridden with guilt for overindulging in their favourite Hari Raya delicacies of ketupat, lemang and rendang.

It’s all part and parcel of the festive season and Malaysian hospitality.

As my grandmother used to say, “Berapa penuh beg pun, masih muat lagi nak selit sehelai sapu-tangan” (No matter how full the bag, there’s always room for another handkerchief).
But rather than feel guilty, why not make the most of your kampung stay to get out and about and enjoy the great Malaysian outdoors.

What better way to work off those extra kilos than a walk among the trees in the orchard or along the bund by the paddy field.

I take my kids along to show them the places I used to run around in when I was a child.

Hopefully, they’ll come to appreciate the essence of a Malaysian garden at its most natural.

But before heading there, it’s wise to take a few precautions.

A hat and a sunscreen are always useful, as is a bottle of water.

Serai wangi makes for excellent insect repellant. Just crumple a blade of citronella in the palm of your hand to extract its oil and rub the essence on the exposed parts of your body.

Armed, my children and I are now ready for our communion with nature.

We’ll identify as many plants as we can along the way for I know my kids will have many questions to ask.

If we’re lucky, there might still be rambutans and duku-langsats hanging from branches; we’ll pluck a few.

Consider this: how many of our children have actually seen where fruits and vegetables come from, other than those wrapped in cling-film on the supermarket shelves?

As kids, my friends and I occasionally enjoyed the thrill of plucking forbidden fruits without being caught but I wouldn’t want to set a bad example for my children.

If we bump into a villager, we’ll stop for a chat. You just don’t do that in the city anymore. We’re all wary of strangers and quite rightly so.

And there’s always the village sage, that one elderly resident who is a fountain of knowledge.

He or she will have interesting tales to tell and we may walk away with tips on herbal remedies and ways to detoxify ourselves.

Perhaps we’ll stumble upon a clump of bamboo; here, I’ll ask my children to stop and listen to the sound of nature.

When the wind blows, the bamboo stems sway and knock each other repeatedly, producing the most hypnotic sound.

I’ll tell them that’s what Mother Nature sounds like when she whispers, her sweet, dulcet tones a symphony of nature.

And, of course, we’ve come up with a way to duplicate that beautiful melody by creating bamboo wind-chimes.

I want my children to appreciate the things that continue to inspire me when I set out to design a Malaysian garden.

In essence, I’m trying to recreate a slice of paradise that is uniquely Malaysian.

They may well have other interests but if I’m able to instil in my children a love for nature, I’ll be a happy father. And for very good reasons.

According to a study by the Virginia Tech University in the United States, 96 per cent of American teachers who used nature and gardening in their curriculum agree that it’s an effective tool; and 75 per cent of those teachers reported improvements in student behaviour when gardening.

Research also suggests that gardening and communing with nature can actually reduce the symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder.

And another study suggests that gardeners have increased self-esteem, are more personally satisfied and enjoy a greater sense of ability.

That’s the beauty of Mother Nature; she is generous to those who love her and those whom she loves.

To those who don’t appreciate her, Mother Nature will wait for as long as it is necessary until such time when their consciousness is awakened.

And finally, when it’s time to set out for that long drive back, I’m not going to rush.

I’ll take my time, perhaps even go down a path less trodden, my windows down and the music soft.

Who knows what I’ll encounter; a whiff of perfume from the kenanga tree or even the smell of cow dung. It’s all in the package.

But at least I’m happy knowing that I’m reclaiming the pleasure of going home for the holidays, with a little help from Mother Nature.

DESMOND Ho has a vision: to forge a truly distinctive and instantly recognisable Malaysian garden identity.
His company, Terra Garden Sdn Bhd, has transformed many generic gardens into a slice of Malaysian paradise. And he’s coined a term for these gardens: Neo Nusantara.
His quest to forge this Malaysian identity goes beyond borders. Terra Garden has taken its Neo Nusantara vision abroad, to Australia, England, Ireland, New Zealand and Switzerland. For more information, log on to www.terragarden.com.my
You can also contact Desmond at info@terragarden.com.my or call 03-7725-8698.

New Straits Times