From serial to ritual killers, here’s a list of lesser known personalities from around the globe.
Adrian Lim – Singapore (Ritual)
In the early 1980s, the murders of two young children in Singapore, led to investigations that resulted in the capture of psychopath, Adrian Lim. The trial turned out to be the second-longest murder trial in Singapore, lasting about eight weeks. The case unveiled disturbing accounts of rites and rituals that was both heinous and wicked. Lim and his accomplices, his wife Catherine Tan Mui Choo and his mistress Hoe Kah Hong, were sentenced to death.
Andrei Chikatilo – Soviet Union (Serial)
Andrei Chikatilo (“The Butcher of Rostov”) was a former school teacher who killed more than 50 young people in the Soviet Union. The Ukraine-born was a child molester, a rapist, a murderer and a cannibal. A psychiatric evaluation determined he was suffering from borderline personality disorder with sadistic tendencies. But he was declared legally sane and competent to stand trial. He was sentenced to death in 1994 by shooting – a single bullet to his head. He blamed a variety of reasons for his actions, including impotency.
Vlado Taneski – Macedonia (Serial)
Who would have thought? Vlado Taneski was a freelance journalist who knew too much about every murder case related to a serial killing his hometown, Kicevo, Macedonia. The stringer received prominence in newspapers because he always had inside story of the brutal murders of three elderly women. They were raped, molested and killed. But the journalist’s intricate account of the murders eventually led to suspicion. What made it unmistakable clear he was the murderer was his inclusion of details police had chosen not to release. In 2008, while in prison, Vlado killed himself by dunking his head in a bucket of water.
Mona Fandey – Malaysia (Ritual)
The vampiress Mona Fandey (Mazna Ismail) was a famous Malaysian pop singer turned witch doctor. After leaving the music business, she became involved in witchcraft, offering her services to the upper-class society. According to reports, Mazlan Idris, a politician, wanted to boost his political career and sought the supernatural services of Mona. The politician was persuaded by Mona and her accomplices, as part of a ritual, to lie on the floor with his eyes closed. Mona told him to expect money to “fall from the sky.” Instead, an axe decapitated and dismembered the politician. Mazlan was reported missing after withdrawing a large amount of money from a bank. The day after the killing, Mona went on a shopping spree in Kuala Lumpur. She was hanged in 2001 along with her husband and another accomplice.
Yang Xinhai – China (Serial)
Yang Xinhai was a Chinese serial killer who confessed to 67 murders and 23 rapes between 1999 and 2003. It was reported he used a hammer to carry out some of the attacks in several provinces. In an interview with the media, Yang, who had been imprisoned twice on charges of burglary and rape, explained why he kills: “When I killed people I had a desire (to kill more). This inspired me to kill more. I don’t care whether they deserve to live or not. It is none of my concern.” It was not reported how he was executed. But it is known that death sentences in China are usually carried out either by lethal injection or a bullet in the head.
A few years ago, at about 4 a.m., I was sitting at the back entrance of a relative’s cafe having a cup of coffee and a water pipe when I heard a commotion. I looked out the quiet back street and saw a man shaking a woman.
The woman yelled for help. I alerted everyone, and a big group of guys approached the couple.
As we neared them, the woman looked at us and exclaimed, “He tried to rape me!” We were all stunned.
The man then turned to us, his face covered in blood, and said, “She’s my wife! She hit me with a bottle!”
We brought the couple back to the cafe. We found out they had gone to a club. The woman had argued with her husband, she got tipsy, and started flirting with other men. Naturally, the husband reacted. So he insisted they go home. As he tried to take her out of the club, she hit him with the bottle.
The man’s account was the truth. When he sat down at the sofa and related the incident, his wife removed one of her shoes and hit him in the head. He did not react. The woman was more aggressive and violent than the man.
The point I am trying to make is this: Don’t be so quick to judge what you hear or what you see. It is so important to check your facts and verify your information and sources.
This goes for many things. What you read or see in the news may have a different impact in a court of law. Sometimes the newspapers decide to judge a person, a community or a country but when it is given due process in a court of law, things can play out differently.
Nothing is perfect, of course, but just don’t be so quick to point a finger.
I’ll start by telling you I don’t believe in psychics, fortune tellers, soothsayers and the rest of the mumbo jumbo crowd. But this is one strange tale that has befuddled me to this very day.
Years ago, I attended a dinner party at a restaurant. Sitting beside me was a man reputed to be a psychic with a loyal following. We didn’t speak to each other. But in the course of dinner, he suddenly told me to expect a call in two weeks from a UK publishing house with regards to a job interview.
There would have been no way this person would have known. I did not tell anyone that I had been sending out my CV.
Exactly 14 days later, I received a call from Hong Kong inviting me to a job interview – a writer’s position in the Singapore bureau office. I was told the editor of the publishing house, with its headquarters in the UK, planned to visit Singapore for the session.
On the scheduled day, I misplaced my belt. That’s right, that strip of leather typically worn around the waist. I searched high and low for it, but I just couldn’t find it. I would feel incomplete without my belt. You can’t go to an interview wearing a shirt, a tie and no belt. Unfortunately, I didn’t have one of those belt-less pants.
Odd as this may sound, I called up Hong Kong to reschedule. I was told it was not possible as the editor was only in town for a day and he planned to interview two others. Under the circumstances, I gave up the opportunity to meet with my interviewer.
So the day didn’t happen, as fate would have it. But the question is, how did this mysterious person whom I met over dinner know? One thing for sure: He may have seen the future, but he could not predict the outcome.
I was standing outside a bank inside a shopping mall waiting for it to open when an old man came up to me and pointed at my tummy.
“You fat fat ah! Fat! Fat!” he said. “You never exercise? Why don’t you exercise?”
I stared at the individual in disbelief, but I didn’t say a word. I expected him to get the drift. But he just went on and on.
“Where do you stay?” he finally asked.
“Singapore,” I replied.
“Where in Singapore?”
“Singapore,” I repeated.
He grinned. “No, I mean which part of Singapore?”
“Singapore,” I said, slowly distancing myself.
Later in the queue, I saw him and two other women having a normal conversation.
What was that all about?
Back in the 80s I had a form teacher in secondary school who was dubbed “Mr. Cool.” He never bothered us much unlike the rest of the teaching staff.
In fact, I think one of the teachers, who taught us history, quit her profession because she lost her patience with the boys. Think Gremlins after being in contact with water.
Our boisterous class was situated near the Principal’s office. It also didn’t help we were near the staff room. This meant regular visits from the Vice Principal, an evil personality from Hell’s depth that even made the Vampire in Salem’s Lot looked saintly. We shall call him, “Mr. Evil.”
Mr. Evil enjoyed punishing the class. He even got physical with some of the boys simply for being noisy and restless. Mr. Evil also had a habit of making us stay behind after school till late evening. This happened often.
On one occasion, Mr. Evil ordered us all to come back to school on Saturday. The punishment? We had to march around the school compound a hundred times. And after that, climb up and down the four-stories high school a hundred times as well. This infuriated many of the boys. So they decided to teach Mr. Evil a lesson. Let’s just say Mr. Evil needed a new paint work for his shiny brown car afterwards.
On Monday, my form teacher came into class. He sat at the edge of his table, one leg up, the other resting on the floor, and lit a cigarette. He looked at each and everyone one of us, and then said: “You people are stupid. You should’ve waited until the end of the year when the school term ended to take your revenge.” We certainly didn’t expect that.
Only 3 boys were caught. Their parents had to pay for the damages, and they were expelled.
The rest of us did not rat on each other. When we were being interrogated individually, I came up with an excuse I saw nothing. I was busy tending to a kitten in my school bag that I had picked up at the school’s car park. It was the honest truth. I had a witness – the janitor – as I gave the kitten to him later. He saw me picked it up and tend to it while we were marching.
You are probably wondering: Did I participate in damaging the car? Well, as you know a rat’s bite can be fatal. Good thing I had a feline friend to protect me.
I had a George Costanza moment just now. I was at the supermarket buying some stuff. As I headed to the cashier’s counter, this woman rushes up from my right and shoves a pram with a baby in front of me to cut the queue. She almost ran over my foot.
I stood there for a few seconds, and then went to the next counter, which unfortunately was closed. Lucky me, another cashier came, removed the sign on the conveyer belt, and offered to serve me.
For centuries, people have sacrificed their lives for land. Poets have glorified battles and wars. Names have been enshrined in history books. Adventurers have achieved greatness by climbing mountains, travelling the seven seas, defying gravity by sending man to the moon and beyond — and then this little person pops up out of nowhere and thinks she’s made a difference to the world by cutting me at the cashier’s counter.
You may have won this round today, sweetie. But I’ll be waiting for you next time.
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A lot of people tell me nonchalantly seeing the Pyramids of Giza for the first time is an anti-climax experience. They’ve heard so such about it since they were kids, seen postcards, watch images on TV, read books – both non-fiction and fiction – yet the reality doesn’t match up to the hype. It’s not what they expected, they said. They didn’t feel awe.
Yet, for some reason numerous writers, poets, scriptwriters, playwrights, movie directors, archaeologists, historians were imbued by the existence of this ancient wonder.
Many tourists tend to give the same answer – they felt nothing after seeing it. The reason I think is this: They failed to ponder.
The Pyramids of Giza isn’t just a tourist site for your camera’s sake or a funny selfie moment – it is a majestic monument left behind for man to reflect history and their own existence.
These monuments are in fact besotting.The trio may not be coated with color and gold today but if you take a step back and sit down alone at a nearby cafe and order a soda, then observe – just observe. It will kick in.
Let the view of the landscape narrate lessons in history before your very eyes. You will discover a time of grandeur that has dissipated. A time mightier than yours left behind by the unseen power. And then you will realize the value of your own significance on earth.
I was at the post office this morning (20, July 20105). There weren’t many people, surprisingly, just a handful of customers. The staff behind the counter were their usual self, grim, except for one girl who greeted me with a wave while I was in the short queue. Naturally, I waved back, and smiled.
None of the customers looked chirpy. Body language: Tense. No smile, nothing. Monday and hence…
Suddenly, for no absolute reason, all eyes darted here and there, leveling their stares at each other. If those stares had emitted lasers, it would have created a complex pythagorean theorem.
And then some of them looked at me, and that was followed by the theme song from “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” playing in my head.
All these years while I was writing and rewriting my manuscript, that small coffee cup kept me company. I never noticed it until now. I swear, I had nothing to do with the book’s cover design. It was all the publisher’s idea, and I never saw it until the last minute. Spooky.
