Tuesday, Aug 28, 2012
Standing outside the primary school, his eyes scanfor a familiar face.
That of his son.
Soon after the school bell goes off, his son comes running out of the school gate.
Together, father and son walk or take a bus home.
This mundane scene may appear perfectly normal to most parents.
But, for Ong Seng Chuen, life was anything but normal.
The 48-year-old hid a dark secret.
For more than 20 years, Ong, a fugitive, had been playing a game of "hide and seek" with the authorities.
In 1989, Ong, then 25, and an accomplice killed an elderly coffee shop proprietor in a robbery.
While he was on the run from the law, he tried to keep up the appearance of leading a normal life.
Yet, the more he tried to seek normalcy, the more he realised that he was living a lie, Ong's lawyer, Mr Josephus Tan told The New Paperon Sunday (TNPS).
"What he cared about most was that there was food and shelter for his girlfriend and son.
"He felt that the faster he faced the law, the quicker he would be reunited with his family," says Mr Tan.
Ong's 21 years of evading the law came to an end in October 2010,when he surrendered himself.
He was remorseful, the lawyer says.
And his family had borne the brunt of his brutal actions.
Ong had refused to listen to his son's plea not to give himself up.
In a letter pleading for leniency, his son, 12, wrote: "Actually I told my father that go (sic) and surrender when he is 50 years old, so that he won't get canning (sic) in prison, but my father said he doesn't want..."
On Aug 21, Ong was sentenced to six years' jail and 12 strokes of the cane after pleading guilty to culpable homicide and robbery.
But is it possible to live under the radar without leaving any electronic trail in this digital age?
Well, you could, says former police detective Davy Chan.
One needs to keep a low profile and stay away from places where your identity is likely to be checked,he explains.
"You need to lead asimple life without mobile phones,ATM or credit cards,"Mr Chan says.
And that was exactly the life that Ong had led for more than two decades.
He severed his ties with his five siblings.
Mr Tan says that Ong, who kept to himself and always returned home by 6pm after work, took jobs that were part-time or project-based.
The lawyer adds: "It was a conscious decision on his part to make sure the jobs were the types that had no CPF contributions and wages were paid in cash."
He made a living repairing used mobile phones.
At other times, he took on odd jobs as a painter or a cleaner.
"It must have been a tough life because he couldn't afford to have friends or people asking too many questions about him," says Mr Tan.
The money he earned was barely enough.
It was a hand-to-mouth existence, he adds.
Ong didn't drink, smoke or go to night clubs because he believed that his earnings were better used for his family's expenses.
His family didn't have it easy either.
His fugitive status effectively meant that they too were on the run.
Their bags were always packed and they had to be ready to move, explains the lawyer.
Says Mr Tan: "He (Ong) told me that he would usually rent a room and stay there between six months and a year. It was quite disruptive for the family to move frequently."
It became frustrating for Ong. He felt helpless about making his family suffer alongside him.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
When his son was bullied in school, he couldn't go to his son's school to learn more about what had happened.
Parent-teacher sessions or school celebrations also had to be avoided.
But without fail, Ong would drop off his son and pick him up from school each day.
On paper,Ongdidn't exist.
He couldn't register his marriage or claim benefits from the government.
He was also upset that he couldn't see his name proudly printed on his son's birth certificate when the boy was born in 2000.
His willingness to surrender was born out of love for his family andeven in jail, all Ong spoke about was his family, says MrTan.
But to those who had once called Ong family, he had become a ghost.
He would appear without warning-usually once a month- to visit his ailing mother,who has kidney problems.
Ong's younger brother, who declined to give his full name, says his mother was one of those who supported his decision to surrender to the authorities.
He says: "My mother told my elder brother that only if you surrender (to the authorities) will you finally be free."
The younger brother adds that his mother wasn't upset when Ong didn't attend their father's funeral "some time between 2005 and2006".
Adds the younger Ong: "How to be angry with him? We didn't know how to contact him. There wasn't an address or a telephone number.
"We know his life wasn't easy. Even when he fell sick, it was not as though he could just go to the clinic and get medicine. He couldn't risk being discovered."
Strangely, in prison, Ong, who had spoken so highly about his love for his son and girlfriend, refused to see them.
He told the two not to visit him, says Mr Tan.
"I told him he couldn't live his life like that," says Mr Tan. "He says he didn't want them to see him because he would surely breakdown in their presence."
After a few months in prison, he finally agreed to a visit.
Unfortunately, on the day of the visit, Ong was assaulted by another inmate, says Mr Tan.
"There was a lockdown and all visits that day were cancelled, says Mr Tan.
"Even though Ong was injured and had to be taken to the hospital, he was actually more upset that he wasn't able to see his son andgirlfriend that day."
Ong has since accepted his fate and is looking forward to his release, says Mr Tan.
He told his lawyer that he wants to learn to cook so that he can earn a living as a hawker.
Ong's younger brother says there are more pressing matters on his elder brother's mind.
He adds: "He wants to legally marry his girlfriend. We're trying to find out if it can be done while heis in prison."
