Death row inmate in Singapore mourns Nagaenthran's execution

 

Just hours before the dawn execution of Nagaenthran Dharmalingam in Singapore, a poem was written by fellow inmate and Malaysian, Pannir Selvam Pranthaman, titled “Death Row Literature” and was “dedicated to Nagaen”.

Nagaenthran was executed last Wednesday (April 27) after his mother failed, the day before, in her last-ditch legal challenge to set aside his conviction and death sentence in Singapore’s Court of Appeal.

The poem, which was timestamped by Pannir, was sent to Malaysiakini by his sister Angelia Pranthaman, 27, who shared how her brother was unable to eat or sleep thinking of his fellow inmate’s imminent execution.

Angelia related that her brother later explained to her how all the inmates were very disturbed after the execution that day as it was carried out on the same floor, not too far from their cells, and was audible.

“The opening of the trap door and the tightening of the noose to cause the strangulation were all very audible to the other inmates,” she said.

She said she received the poem from her brother's lawyer after he visited Pannir (above) last week.

Sharing her brother’s observations of Nagaenthran, Angelia said he was described as someone who hardly spoke and had almost forgotten how to speak, unlike most other inmates in solitary confinement.

Nagaenthran's case became high-profile when it attracted international calls for clemency but, by then, the inmate had spent more than the last decade of his life in solitary confinement.

He was executed for trafficking 44g of heroin into Singapore, which has some of the world's toughest narcotics laws.

Pannir, 34, who turned lyricist during his time on Singapore’s death row, had also written a poem in conjunction with International Women’s Day this year.

The following is the recent poem penned by Pannir, titled “Death Row Literature”:

Death Row Literature

A tragic vision of purposeful blindness.

The premonition of death descending,

Like the dark shadow of night upon the day.

Concrete walls of Hades built by blood.

Decorated with crawled hand prints,

Like a symbol of desperate pleas…

From an extended hand of a disabled mind,

An exhausted soul of a mother,

Seeking refuge for her son

Which has been refused

There is a trace of urgency on the shades (shade of the hand crawl)

As if there is a hidden message engraved

On the wrinkles of those haunted palms

As though it seeks the voice of a messenger

To speak this death row literature

As the last hope for the future

As its last sign before it’s lost

In its last sleep…

Handcuffs, shackles, chains, black veils

Trapdoors, lethal chambers, executioners

Devotedly sang a murderous chorus

As if cheering for evil to take its form

Enticing death to breathe

Through the sorrow of a loved one

To roam and dwell

At the end of a venomous needle

At the circle of knotted cord

At the edge of a sharpened sword

It resides inside the bullet’s shell

It sits nonchalantly as if an invisible ruler

At the throne of an electric chair

To disembowel and devour

The scorched flesh and soul of a “thing”

That just a second ago was called a “human being”

Every life is sacred

The Death penalty isn’t a silver bullet

Let’s not make it a secret

Advocate of death

Greedy for more dead bodies

Adamant to the core

For more blood to pour

Telling killing is the cure

To keep the State pure

They say “there is freedom of expression here”

We ask, “is there freedom ‘after’ the expression?”

We can’t change the past

But the present is the future’s past

It’s about time for us to act fast.

Dedicated to Nagaen.

27 April 2022 (written at 3am)  - Mkini