In the days following M. Ravi’s passing, many tributes have been written celebrating his courage, his early work, and his role as a human-rights lawyer. Those tributes are understandable, and I do not begrudge them.
However, I feel compelled to write something more honest.
I do so because there are other victims like myself—people who were misled, hurt, or financially abused by Ravi—and our experiences matter too. I have never hidden my position. I have stated it publicly on multiple occasions, including my last post on this subject on 7 December 2025, after we served a Statutory Demand on Joseph Chen. Ravi has not denied my allegations when he was alive.
This reflection is therefore not written in anger, nor to diminish what Ravi once stood for. It is written to place on record a fuller truth, as I experienced it.
Ravi himself often said that God is our final judge. On this, he is right. I do not judge this man. Judgment belongs to God alone—who alone knows the heart and mind of every person. Whatever his failures, he is now free from the trappings of this world, and I leave his ultimate account to God, the supreme judge.
What follows is not condemnation, but testimony. I write this with mixed feelings about a man I cannot ignore.
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M. Ravi (1969–2025):
A Cautionary Tale of Not Becoming the People We Hate
I once treated M. Ravi as a friend, a fellow Singaporean, and a fellow traveller in conscience. Toward the end, I came to despise him—not because of his beliefs, but because he lied to me, cheated me, and abused my trust. That betrayal has legal consequences that I am now pursuing against Joseph Chen.
Many tributes have understandably focused on M. Ravi’s courage and early contributions. This reflection records a fuller, more complicated truth, as I experienced it.
M. Ravi was a brilliant man. He was also a deeply troubled one.
He carried demons—some rooted in the death of his mother, others shaped by years of confronting death, injustice, and what he believed to be evil itself. On his better days, he would speak vividly about his work: the details of executions, his encounters with “the Old Man,” and his conviction that he was fighting Lucifer and his legion. These were his beliefs and his language, and they formed part of the inner world he inhabited.
Yet brilliance does not excuse dishonesty.
Toward the end of our relationship, Ravi lied to me about money. He told me that S$24,000 was required as a “security deposit” to the Attorney-General’s Chambers for the objecting to Tharman's Presidency lawsuit. This was untrue. The money was used to enrich himself and his friend and former lawyer, Joseph Chen.
At the same time, Ravi told others that his work for me was pro bono. That too was untrue. He repeatedly asked me for money whenever we met, and I paid him approximately S$8,000 for work done (in which he spent very little time personally drafting and I had to suffer from verbal abuses while he was at it). I have no issue paying a lawyer for work performed. I do, however, object to being treated like an ATM while false narratives of altruism were circulated. For the sake of the record, this must be stated plainly.
Our History
My history with Ravi goes back more than two decades.
Around 2003, after returning from my studies in Australia, I became acquainted with the late Violet Netto, Ravi’s then law partner. I visited Violet regularly to learn meditation. Ravi, at the time, was a serious young lawyer—his head buried in documents, always working.
One day, Violet handed me Hung at Dawn. I spoke to Ravi about the book and the death-penalty cases he was handling. Shortly after, I watched Dead Man Walking to better understand the cause he was fighting for. I respected his work then.
Over the years, Ravi appeared increasingly in the news. My personal interactions with him, when they occurred, left me with the impression of an intense, emotional, and at times volatile person—especially after his diagnosis of bipolar disorder. Our paths did not cross often, but I followed his trajectory from a distance.
In 2007, when Raymond and I got married, we invited Ravi to our wedding dinner. Violet Netto was our solemniser. After that, our interactions were sporadic and often unpleasant, marked by defensiveness and emotional volatility.
COVID and the Constitutional Challenge
In 2021, at the height of the COVID vaccine rollouts, I spoke to dozens of lawyers in Singapore. Many refused outright to take on any case challenging the Government.
One lawyer encouraged me to contact Ravi. I hesitated, knowing his reputation and fearing he might be difficult to work with. But I was at my wits’ end.
When I finally approached him, Ravi was animated and enthusiastic. He spoke about COVID as a monumental human-rights issue and said lawyers around the world were discussing it.
On 16 November 2021, we filed an Originating Summons against the Singapore Government alleging Crimes Against Humanity arising from COVID policies—specifically inducement, coercion, and lack of informed consent. Ravi cited:
Article 9(1) of the Singapore Constitution
Chapter 14 of the ASEAN Human Rights Declaration
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights
Singapore’s Geneva Conventions Act 1957
I remain grateful that, at that moment, there was at least one lawyer willing to file the case exactly as I understood it. I genuinely believed—and still believe—that the inducement and lack of informed consent surrounding COVID vaccines raised serious crimes-against-humanity concerns under the Nuremberg Code and violated our Constitutional Right to Life.
Incidentally, that same day—16 November 2021—Singapore hosted the Bloomberg New Economy Forum, attended by global elites, including Bill Gates, who publicly joked that those unwilling to be vaccinated should be caned. I remember that day vividly. It was one of the moments when Ravi’s darker worldview about power and impunity felt disturbingly plausible.
Aftermath
In the months following the filing, I was placed in remand for 15 days in January 2022. Ravi later faced disbarment.
While I do not believe the filing alone explains it, his conduct in court had deteriorated badly—likely a combination of bipolar disorder and his own desperation of his circumstances.
Intellectually, Ravi was a formidable constitutional lawyer. He believed deeply that no one is above the law—not even the Chief Justice. That belief animated him.
But conviction without integrity corrodes itself.
I know I am not the only one hurt by Ravi’s actions. Many who turned to him in desperation were left disappointed or damaged.
During my 15 days in remand, Ravi did not once reach out to Raymond despite being my lawyer. After my release, he never asked me about it. I can only conclude that by then, he was consumed by his own struggles and saw me less as a client or friend than as a convenient source of cash.
Forgiveness, Not Exoneration
I considered paying him a final visit. Instead, I will light a candle and say a prayer.
Ravi hurt me deeply. He hurt Raymond and others. I will not detail those harms here.
Death is a kind of report card. Ravi never apologised to me before he died. While I forgive him, he is sadly no longer a friend.
Still, I remain thankful for the constitutional challenge he filed. At that moment in history, it was the only glimmer of hope I could see.
What I see now, looking back, is not heroism—but a cautionary tale.
A warning about what happens when those who fight injustice slowly adopt the very traits they claim to oppose. When anger replaces integrity. When conscience is invoked but not practised.
That is why I choose to forgive Ravi.
Not because he deserves it—but because forgiveness is how I refuse to become the very people I hate.
Only love can heal the divide.
A Note for the Record
None of the mainstream media coverage—nor M. Ravi’s own Wikipedia entry—mentions that we filed this constitutional challenge together on 16 November 2021.
For completeness, I will leave in the comments the video recorded outside the Supreme Court on that day, immediately after the Originating Summons was filed. It captures, in real time, what was said, what was believed, and what was at stake.
This period—and the days leading up to the constitutional challenge—will be addressed in greater depth in future parts of The Silent Roar.
Despite his failings as a person, I do not know that he took or would take drugs as a person. I am not going to believe blindly the circumstances surrounding his death and I would urge everyone not to come to any fast conclusions regardless of how you feel about him.
Thank you.
Iris Koh.
