by Theleaders-Online | February 10, 2020 6:33 am
Coroner’s court, Shah Alam, 6 February 2020.
He’s well-groomed. He expends much effort before mirrors. The edges of his scalp and face hair form the shape of a valentine. When you look at his face, your eyes focus on the little “v” shape his hairline makes at the top of his forehead. The “v” points sharply and perfectly down to his nose.
He’s well-dressed. His grey, long-sleeved shirt fits him well. Sleeves neatly rolled up, revealing slim, hairy arms.
He’s got a good posture and walk. He speaks softly. There’s no tinge of hardness. He’s got “religious red thread” on his right wrist. You wouldn’t mind sitting next to him on the bus or LRT.
But like me, you might be troubled by the frequency with which he rubbed his eyes and nose while testifying.
He told the court that the police have detained him three times. I’m not sure if the third time was the last time. Anyway, he was one of the cellmates of Thanabalan Subramanian who died in custody in the Shah Alam lockup.
He told the court he couldn’t remember the date Thanabalan died (17 April, 2018). I think his “inability” to recall the date is not credible.
He said he was one of nine inmates who shared a cell with Thanabalan. He said Thanabalan had been sick for two days prior to “the incident.” He said he was one of the four of five persons who carried unconscious, unresponsive Thanabalan to the ground-floor.
He said he didn’t touch Thanabalan or attempt to offer him any help. When lawyer M Visvanathan of EDICT (see below) who’s representing Thanabalan’s family asked him why he didn’t help, he said he didn’t know.
He said he was aware that police escorts had come earlier to take two sick detainees to hospital. He said they explained that Thanabalan would be taken later. He said Thanabalan was taken about 30 minutes after he and others brought him out of the cell unconscious, unresponsive.
He said he did not know what eventually happened to Thanabalan.
As I listened, I listed questions I would have asked myself if I had been Thanabalan’s cellmate. What caused the three men to become sick? How badly will their health be affected? How often do people get sick in this lockup? Who will be next? Might it be me? Who would help me?
Kogilan, 20 years old at the time, facing the likelihood of being detained without trial for years (under SOSMA) spoke as if none of those questions crossed his mind. Did he think he could fool everyone in the courtroom?
What was really going on? Kogilan unwittingly gave a clue at the beginning of his testimony, when he spoke very softly. The interpreter approached him to tell him to speak more loudly. He noticed Kogilan was trembling – and mentioned this to the coroner.
I think that’s the key which explains why well-groomed, 22 year old Kogilan’s most used phrase this morning was “I don’t remember.”
I was surprised the conducting officer (DPP) didn’t mention any statement recorded by the police after interviewing him soon after Thanabalan died. I was surprised the coroner didn’t ask about a (112) statement.
Did the police interview Kogilan and the other eight cellmates? If they didn’t, isn’t that a big concern? If they did, did they ask the right questions? Wouldn’t the answers help the witness remember?
I couldn’t help thinking that well-groomed, apparently self-assured Kogilan is in fact terrified that if he gives the “wrong answers” (in other words, speaks the truth), he could be arrested again under SOSMA and be at the mercy of the police.
In answer to one of the DPP’s questions, Kogilan said that after Thanabalan was put in the car, Kogilan and his mates changed their clothes before they returned to their cell.
The DPP did not probe that answer, but Visvanathan did. His astute questioning led Kogilan to reveal that the last time the cellmates changed their clothes was one week earlier.
Well-groomed, well-dressed Kogilan will do everything possible to avoid being in the same clothes for a week – in a lockup where the ventilation system hasn’t worked for years, where he has to drink water from the toilet (though he was careful not to admit doing so) and people die.
Now for some general comments.
First, I felt the DPP should not have suggested a word (menggigil, “shivering”) the witness might use in answer to a question she put to him.
Second, it seems to me the DPP should leave no questions for the family’s counsel to ask, since the goal of an inquest is to find the truth about why someone died, not to defend the state’s denial of responsibility. I felt she should’ve asked the questions Visvanathan asked.
Third, I was glad to see the coroner pick up on the issue of adequacy of drinking water provided to detainees. She asked several questions about meals and drinks. I speculate she did this in order to frame a note she will write to the authorities about the state of our lockups. Good on her!
There was only one witness today. The other was a no-show. The coroner ordered that a warrant of arrest be issued and that the police produce him before her on 19 February. Please attend and show that we, the rakyat, want to see the truth emerge during inquests and end deaths-in-custody.
Rama Ramanathan is an activist for Citizens Against Enforced Disappearances
The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of The Leaders Online.
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