Death Kopitiam Singapore

𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 – 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟔 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟕 𝐨𝐟 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Block 554 Bedok North Street 3, 10th floor
𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: not stated
𝐀𝐠𝐞: 66
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: Male
𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲: 13 June 2026, 5.50pm

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Block 508 Ang Mo Kio Avenue 8, 3rd floor
𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: not stated
𝐀𝐠𝐞: not stated
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: Female
𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲: 13 June 2026, 10pm

Two solitary deaths in a day.

A 66-year-old man and an elderly woman, whose age was not disclosed in media reports.

Both lived alone and often kept to themselves.

They seldom interact with their neighbours.

The man reportedly had green fingers and kept an aquarium at home.

A reserved person, he could be seen buying food from nearby eateries.

The woman had been living in her unit for more than six years.

On most occasions, her door and windows are shut.

At times, she could be seen alone in the vicinity.

They seldom have visitors, though the woman was believed to have an elder brother living in a nursing home.

Foul stench led to their discoveries, lying motionless and pronounced dead at the scene.

In life, they were visible and invisible to their environs.

In death, they are nameless, formless and relegated to a statistic.

Amid changing family demographics, they are common occurrences.

The stench and sight of a super-aged society.

Another day, another solitary death in Singapore.

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: Shin Min Daily News

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐨 沈望傅, 𝟔𝟕 (𝐝. 𝟒 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑)

"𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬," 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠, 14 June 2026

He was the light we remember.

𝐃𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐰 (𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞), 𝟕𝟐 (𝐝. 𝟏𝟐 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒)

𝑂𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

Dr Leong Chee Chiew, conservationist and the man recognised as Singapore's chief gardener, has died. He was 72.

The last post he held was as Executive Director for National Parks, Gardens and Nature Reserves.

Dr Leong sowed, and he watered. Dr Leong pruned, and he nurtured. He helped chart Singapore's journey from a Garden City to a City in a Garden, and now as a City in Nature.

Dr Leong's life was a meditation on memory, love, landscape and finding a home for all Singaporeans in nature.

It would have been a pleasure and a privilege to walk with him. He knew our landscape like a fox or a bird and passed through it freely, as if it were its own paths.

These were paths he had sown as a young researcher and naturalist.

Under that heritage rain tree at the Botanical Gardens, we see his shadows. He celebrated the Gardens as it bloomed into a premier institution, before, during and after it was inscribed as Singapore’s first UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Many in NParks, in the different branches, subjected themselves abjectly to this lodestar in our rivers of greenery, and the reward was great. Many thank him for his guidance and patience all these years.

Dr Leong tilled the soil on which today’s efforts in nature conservation, ecological connectivity and biodiversity sunk their roots. The seeds he planted bore fruit.

Nothing is less isolated or more social than a tree. Chee Chiew was that pillar in Singapore’s conservation efforts.

At the same time, it was clear to him that a tree does not make a forest. Two or more trees make a forest. As Minister for National Development Desmond Lee wrote in a tribute, Chee Chiew’s “willingness to engage and listen to the voices of different stakeholders and arrive at a solution will also be one of his greatest legacies."

Trees talk to one another, over the air and underground. They care for and feed each other, orchestrating shared behaviours through the networked soil. They build immune systems as wide as a forest.

There are no individuals in a forest, no separable events. The bird and the branch it sits one and the same thing.

As that pillar of a tree, Dr Leong handled viewpoints with charm and civility and dealt with them with conciliation, correctness and well-considered circumspection.

The green lungs that Singapore’s urban development lives and breathes will be one of Chee Chiew's biggest legacies.

Dr Leong’s eye was open to beauty, and his ear to nature’s music. He found them wherever he went in Singapore’s landscapes.

He was, thus, the bridge connecting our native fauna to Singapore’s urban development.

As a Christian, he was a steward of God’s creation and the landscape Singapore was blessed with. He showed us how an urban people can co-exist within a complex system of wondrous interdependence with nature.

To Dr Leong, biodiversity is akin to a hundred thousand species of love, each invented, each more ingenious than the last.

More than anything else, Chee Chiew’s Christian life, professional career and role as the chief custodian of our nature reserves can be summed up in these four loves: (i) storge love (or a natural affection for people), philia love (the bond of friendship with one and all, human and nature), eros love (a romantic, dedicated passionate love for the work of conservation) and agape love (charity and selflessness). These were his gift-loves.

He will certainly be remembered for his gift-loves to Singapore, which were generous, boundless and self-renewing.

In the larger and natural world in which he immerses himself each day, he sees birth, life, dying and death play themselves out in a symphony of tones, textures and forms.

Dr Leong sees them from humble seeds to mighty trees and overarching landscapes, celebrates their joy as they bloom and find love, watches helplessly as they age, and mourns when they eventually collapse in a dignified roar.

All it takes is falling in love with one leaf, one tree or one river, and the whole heart of the world can be known. For that lesson, Chee Chiew, we will always be grateful to you.

He will be well remembered for his inspiring leadership and that wry sense of humour. We also have so much to thank him for – for the many years of wisdom, courage, humility, care and compassion for his loved ones, friends and colleagues.

The soil remembers, for a little while longer, the vanished woods and the progress that unmade them.

The soil will remember you, Chee Chiew, our canopy of timeless wisdom and singular dedication.

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: ForeverMissed.com

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬
𝐃𝐫 𝐖𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐖𝐞𝐞 黄金辉博士, 𝟖𝟗 (𝟒 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗𝟏𝟓 – 𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓)

𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 — 𝐽𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡, 𝐷𝑖𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑡, 𝐹𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛'𝑠 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲: Tayson Tay, 23

Wee Kim Wee was born on November 4, 1915. He was born into a Hokkien family. His roots were working class. His father died when he was young. The family struggled in colonial Singapore.

He left school at 15. He had no choice. The family needed income. He took a job as a messenger boy at The Straits Times. He was young. He was small. But he was sharp. He watched. He listened. He learned how news was made.

He moved from messenger to reporter. He covered stories on the ground. He learned Malay to speak to communities beyond his own. That was unusual. That was deliberate. He understood that Singapore was not just one people. He wanted to tell all of their stories.

He lived through the Japanese Occupation of Singapore from 1942 to 1945. Those were dark years. The island fell. People suffered. Kim Wee witnessed it. He survived it. He carried that memory for the rest of his life. It shaped his understanding of what Singapore could lose if it were not careful.

He reported the postwar return of British rule. He covered the rise of nationalism across Malaya and Singapore. He interviewed the leaders who were reshaping Asia. Among them were Jawaharlal Nehru, David Marshall, and Lee Kuan Yew. He sat across from Mao Zedong. These were among the most powerful figures of the 20th century. Kim Wee spoke to them as a journalist.

He rose to become one of the most senior journalists in Singapore. He eventually became general manager and later chairman of the Singapore Broadcasting Corporation. This was a pivotal role. Television and radio were Singapore's primary mass communication tools. He helped shape what Singaporeans heard and saw.

His journalism career spanned more than three decades. He covered Singapore's merger with Malaysia in 1963. He covered Separation. He was there when the Republic declared its independence. These were defining national moments. He recorded them. He explained them. He made them accessible.

In 1973, he transitioned to diplomacy. He was appointed Singapore's High Commissioner to Malaysia. This was a delicate posting. Singapore and Malaysia had just separated. Tensions existed. The relationship needed careful management. Kim Wee brought his characteristic warmth to Kuala Lumpur. He built relationships. He was trusted.

He then served as Singapore's ambassador to Japan. Then to the United States. Then to the United Kingdom. He represented Singapore across four major diplomatic postings. He was not trained as a diplomat. He was trained as a journalist. But his instinct for human connection served him well in every posting.

In 1985, he was appointed Singapore's fourth president.

He served two terms. His presidency lasted eight years. During this period, Singapore transformed dramatically. The economy grew. The housing estates expanded. The MRT was launched. Singapore became a global city.

President Wee Kim Wee took his role seriously. He believed that the president must connect with ordinary Singaporeans. He visited Housing Development Board estates. He sat in hawker centres. He talked to cleaners, aunties, construction workers, and children. The Istana, under him, felt more human.

He was a strong advocate for multiracialism. He believed in Singapore's diversity. He often reminded Singaporeans that their strength lay in their differences. He understood this was not as a slogan but as a lived experience. He had grown up among Hokkiens, Malays, Tamils, Eurasians, and British colonisers. He had reported on all of them. He respected all of them.

He also exercised a historic constitutional function. He was the first president to be briefed fully on the nation's financial reserves. The elected presidency had not yet been formalised in 1985, but the groundwork was being laid. President Wee was the transitional figure. He helped establish the moral and institutional precedent for a more active presidential role.

He was awarded the Meritorious Service Medal. He received honorary doctorates from multiple Singapore universities. The Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information at Nanyang Technological University was named after him. This was fitting. He had built the language of modern Singapore storytelling.

He passed away on May 2 2005. He was 89. Singapore grieved. He was remembered not as a distant statesman but as a warm, familiar presence. He was the president who had made people feel seen.

"I have always believed that a leader must be close to the people."

"Singapore is not just about buildings and economy. It is about how people treat one another."

President Sheares and President Wee came from modest backgrounds. Both rose through dedication and service. Neither sought power for power's sake. Benjamin healed bodies. Kim Wee healed divides. Together they represent what Singapore aspires to be—a nation where humble origins are no barrier, where service is the highest calling, and where legacy is measured not in wealth, but in lives touched.

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: Istana

𝐋𝐢𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲 (𝐝. 𝟏𝟏 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔)
Defence Management Group
Ministry of Defence

Lily’s cremation will take place at Mandai North Crematorium on June 15, 2026, Service Hall 07, 2.05pm.

Published in 𝐿𝑖𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑒 𝑍𝑎𝑜𝑏𝑎𝑜 on June 13, 2026.

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬
𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝟕𝟑 (𝟏𝟐 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟏𝟗𝟎𝟕 – 𝟏𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟏)

𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑆𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 — 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑟, 𝑆𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑡

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲: Tayson Tay, 23

Benjamin Henry Sheares was born on August 12, 1907, in Singapore. He grew up in colonial Singapore. The island was a trading port. It was a crossroads of cultures. Yet opportunity for a bright young man still existed, if he worked hard enough.

Benjamin attended St. Joseph's Institution. He was a diligent student. He showed early aptitude for the sciences, going on to study medicine at King Edward VII College of Medicine in Singapore. This institution was the cradle of medical education in Malaya and Singapore. He graduated with distinction. He was recognised as one of the brightest of his cohort.

Benjamin then pursued postgraduate training in the United Kingdom. He studied obstetrics and gynaecology. He became a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh. He also became a Fellow of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists. These were rare and distinguished qualifications. Very few doctors from the region held them at the time.

Benjamin returned to Singapore. He joined the medical service. He rose through the ranks swiftly at Kandang Kerbau Hospital. He became a leading figure in obstetrics and gynaecology. His clinical skill was exceptional. His colleagues respected him deeply. His patients trusted him completely.

Benjamin’s most enduring medical contribution was the development of the Sheares Operation, named after him. This was a surgical technique for managing a specific complication in childbirth. The procedure helped women who faced life-threatening conditions during delivery. It saved mothers. It saved families.

Benjamin trained a generation of doctors. He mentored junior surgeons. He built the discipline of obstetrics and gynaecology in Singapore from the ground up. The number of lives touched by his work runs into the tens of thousands. He delivered babies. He trained the doctors who delivered more babies. His impact compounded across decades.

Benjamin was also a devoted academic. He published medical research. He contributed to the body of knowledge in his field. He represented Singapore in international medical conferences. He helped put Singapore medicine on the global map at a time when the republic was finding its feet.

When Singapore became independent in 1965, Benjamin continued his work. He was not a politician. He was a doctor. But the nation was watching men and women of character. They needed leaders of substance for the ceremonial but constitutionally important role of the Presidency.

In 1971, Benjamin was invited to become Singapore's second President. He succeeded Yusof Ishak, who had died in office. Benjamin accepted the responsibility with characteristic humility. He was sworn in on January 2, 1971. He served until his death on May 12, 1981. His presidency lasted a full decade, making it the longest presidential term in Singapore's history to that point.

President Sheares fulfilled his constitutional role with quiet dignity. The Singapore Presidency in those years was a ceremonial office. But it carried weight. It represented the moral authority of the state. He embodied that authority naturally.

What distinguished him was his continued identity as a man of the people. He had spent decades as a doctor. He had seen suffering up close. He had sat beside patients in their most vulnerable moments. That empathy never left him. It informed how he carried himself as President.

He was also a family man. He and his wife, Yeo She Geok, were known for their warmth. They were approachable. They made the Istana feel less distant.

President Sheares died in office on May 12, 1981. He was 73 years old. Singapore mourned. Flags flew at half-mast. The nation paid tribute to a man who had given his entire adult life to serving others — first as a healer, then as a head of state.

His legacy lives on in multiple forms. The Benjamin Sheares Bridge, which crosses the Kallang Basin, was named in his honour after his death. It was opened in 1981. Every Singaporean who crosses it today passes over a piece of his memory.

A recent book, The Benjamin Sheares Story: From Pioneering Gynaecologist to Singapore's Second President, was featured among new titles on Singapore history published in April 2026 by the National Library Board's BiblioAsia. This confirms renewed scholarly and public interest in his story.

"He served without seeking recognition. He healed without expecting praise. That is what made him extraordinary."

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: Istana

𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐡 𝐃𝐨𝐧, 𝟐𝟒 (𝟏𝟑 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟐 – 𝟐𝟔 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔)

“𝑇𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑑, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑤 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒.” - Pau Sian Mung, Piang's brother

In the remote hills of Myanmar's impoverished Chin state, a dainty girl was born to a farming family on June 13, 1992.

Joy and trepidation filled this family in Dimpi village, a community of 1,500 people. How are we to feed this new child?

There was scarcity and isolation. The only route to Dimpi was a four-hour drive on a muddy road from a nearby township.

At the age of 4, she lost her parents within a year of each other.

Piang left school at 15 and was a single mother to a young son named Mung Lam Tuang by the age of 21.

Reportedly, she had ten siblings, five of whom died before Piang came to Singapore.

To secure a better future for her son, she decided to cast aside her fears and make the arduous journey from her village to Bishan, Singapore.

The next time her family saw Piang, it was at her funeral.

On May 28, 2015, Piang began work at the household of Prema S. Naraynasamy, 50, Gaiyathiri Murugayan, 35, and Kevin Chelvam, 37. She was 39kg then.

This work opportunity very quickly descended into a living nightmare for Piang.

Between June 21, 2015 and July 21, 2016, seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day, she suffered in silence as she was imprisoned, verbally and physically abused, humiliated and deprived of food and sleep.

Piang became the personal punching bag of Prema, Gaiyathiri and Kevin.

She was slapped, continually splashed with ice-cold water, kicked in the face, stamped on, choked and hit with implements such as clothes hangers, a plastic bottle, a broomstick, a metal ladle and other household items.

A heated steam iron was also pressed against Piang’s forehead on at least one occasion. She was also dragged by her hair across the floor. In some instances, she was even assaulted on vulnerable parts of her body, such as her head, neck and groin.

CCTV cameras installed throughout the flat documented these extensive abuses.

If Piang even ate at all, her meals often comprised only sliced bread soaked in water, cold food from the refrigerator or some rice at night.

Piang was to spend the last 12 nights of her life tied to a window grille; she slept on a bedroom floor with one arm secured with a cord.

At 5am on July 26, 2016, Piang was again viciously assaulted. Her head was pulled back by the hair, and she was being shaken “like one shakes a rag doll”, possibly resulting in the fracture of the hyoid bone in her neck.

These hellish sufferings and agonising bodily harm stopped, only because she died.

The coroner reported 31 recent scars and 47 external injuries, ranging from fresh or very recent injuries to those which were more than a month old. All the injuries were the result of some blunt force.

The autopsy found that Piang’s neck region was extensively emaciated with loss of contours of neck muscles.

There were multiple abrasions and bruises to various parts of the neck, including crescentic-shaped abrasions consistent with those from fingernails, as well as a recent fracture of the hyoid bone.

Past and present physical abuses as well as a poor nutritional state compounded her inability to tolerate the repeated trauma to her neck, leading to hypoxic ischaemic encephalopathy which resulted in Piang’s death.

Piang weighed only 24kg when she died.

She gained reprieve from this extraordinary evil, only because she died.

In that Bishan flat lurks the banal and unflinching everyday face of evil.

On July 26, 2016, she drew her last breath. That was the first time she had some semblance of comfort and security.

Today would have marked Piang Ngaih Don’s 34th birthday.

Happy Birthday, Piang! In the face of her afflictions and grievous short life, this itself is some semblance of belated comfort and joy.

Piang, we are very sorry!

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: Lianain Films

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐧 文秋燕, 𝟓𝟏, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐦 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐚𝐢 林文恺, 𝟐𝟏 (𝐝. 𝟏𝟐 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓)

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐧 文秋燕, 𝟓𝟏, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐦 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐚𝐢 林文恺, 𝟐𝟏 (𝐝. 𝟏𝟐 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓)

𝑂𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦.

January 6, 2025, was a dark day for the Lims.

That day, Lim Kiat Leong, the husband of Vernita Boon and the father of their three boys, aged 13 to 21, died. He was 54.

This was a grieving family.

Vernita’s page was populated with family photos and those of her beloved children.

She wishes for nothing but the best for her children.

That her three sons will grow up healthy, happy and contribute to the larger society with the education they have received.

As a primary school teacher at SJKC Malim in Melaka, Vernita was a relentless and unceasing lamp that guided her students.

She gave her whole adult working life to educating and nurturing the next generation of young Malaysians.

By all accounts, Vernita was a dedicated, loving and well-respected educator.

In 2009, she received the 2008 Excellent Service Award from the Seremban District Education Office.

Collectively, her students were a vibrant tapestry, and she wanted to harness their potential and unleash a whirlwind of energy and creativity.

To Vernita, they were the brightest stars that have yet to shine.

She believed in them, and, in turn, her students respected and loved her.

She brought home scripts and homework, and, possibly at times, a family’s expectations.

Vernita might have projected her expectations onto her three children.

She was anxious and worried about her son’s upcoming national examinations.

After the death of her husband and the children’s father, she was the pillar of the family.

Her children were now her everything. She has to be responsible for them, probably more than ever before.

She bore the burden of her sons’ future on her slight frame.

This was a lady still mourning her beloved husband.

Inadvertently, she might have turned her frustrations, guilt, anxieties and anger into expectations that were projected onto her children - we might never know.

Neverthless, she loved each of her children.

Her eldest, Boon Kai, was older and well aware of the sacrifices his mother had made for their family.

Earlier this year, during Mother’s Day, he made a video tribute for Vernita, the first such tribute she had ever received from a family member.

She was overjoyed and penned down her joys and hopes for her children accordingly.

It was a happy and complete family.

Meals over the table, trips around Malaysia and the celebrations of milestones.

Vernita was Boon Kai’s “beloved mom”, and Boon Kai was a filial, thoughtful, respectful boy.

On June 12, 2025, tragically, both mother and son were stabbed to death.

There were stab wounds on their necks, waists and backs.

According to the Malaysian police, Vernita’s second son, Lim Boon Tao, 17, had plotted to murder his mother in the early hours of the morning of June 12, 2025, with a 20 cm-long folding knife, while she was asleep.

He was allegedly caught in the act by his older brother and proceeded to stab him.

Their youngest brother, who was 13, was also severely injured from multiple stab wounds.

Reportedly, the 17-year-old teenager, who was not under the influence of drugs or alcohol during the stabbings, was frequently scolded by his mother due to his educational performance.

Expectations and a mother’s anxieties took up residence in his second son and turned into unbearable frustrations, pressure and anger.

The father figure in his life was, sadly, not present.

Like his mother and siblings, he was still in grief and sorrow.

It weighed on him. It was too much for him to bear.

On June 12, 2025, something in him snapped.

Unspeakable horror visited the home, and fury was unleashed on the bodies of his mother and elder brother.

Were there warning signs that were missed?

Probably, he did not know how to seek help for his woes and pressure.

Unmistakably, on that calamitous day, blood flowed in the home.

The home that gave them life saw nothing but horrific death that day.

Today, the youngest of the Lims is an orphan.

On 1 March 2022, Vernita proudly posted a photo of her second son at his school’s singing competition on her page. That day, Boon Tao won a prize.

She was a proud mother.

She wanted nothing but the best for him.

Mummy loves you.

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: China Press

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝

There's a person who will not be present at the table, a person whose luggage is sitting at the corner of your room, a person whose WhatsApp account seems to have paused at a particular time, a particular space and a particular instance. There will no longer be an incoming message. His/her name will not light up your phone again. That last message.

We, at Death Kopitiam Singapore, would like to remember the stories of your loved ones. If you like us to pen a tribute for your loved ones, drop us a note or an email ([email protected]), and we would be honoured to be able to help you in remembering and honouring your loved ones, including your most beloved pets, at no cost.

We are storytellers, and your loved ones have stories that the world should know more about. Leave a lasting legacy, and scribes that we are would like to be given an opportunity to partake in your grieving journey.

We look forward to hearing from you - from all of us at the Death Kopitiam Singapore.

𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐚 𝐃/𝐎 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐧 (𝐝. 𝟏𝟏 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔)
Immigration & Checkpoints Authority

Published in 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 on June 13, 2026.