CHAPTER 6

"Hello! Hello!" A rattling at the locked iron grille doors caused Lai Fong and myself to look up enquiringly. We were the only two office staff - apart from my husband - at the time, and Peter was away in Port Dickson for a conference. I went over to the door where an Indian man in his mid-thirties stood looking in. "I need help," he began. "I've just come out of prison and I haven't got an identity card. I've only got $1.50 and nowhere to go. I don't have any family... " his voice trailed off. I knew that without an identity card, he would be unemployable. And yet I hesitated. He looked such a rough, tough customer, and although he couldn't help it, poor man, both eyes looked in opposite directions. I found myself darting from one eye to the other in an attempt to decide which eye was actually looking at me! He could be a drug addict, in which case giving him money was out of the question. He stood waiting and I finally made a decision, feeling guilty at my seeming lack of willingness to do anything about his immediate needs.

"Could you come back on Wednesday? My husband will be here then... I'm sure he will be able to help you." The man nodded and moved off and Lai Pong and I fell to discussing how he knew about CARE and where to find us. We didn't expect to see him again, but sure enough, come Wednesday morning, there he was. This time the doors were opened and Krishnan welcomed in. From him Peter discovered that every day, men were being released from jail. "Many of us have nowhere to go," Krishnan told him, "because our families don't want to know us anymore." And with no money, how long would they, could they, stay straight? In fairness to the prison authorities, I should mention that long-termers have opportunities to learn a trade. Qualified instructors are employed to teach cobbling, book-binding, motor repair, painting, carpentry, tailoring, rattan work, car cushion and cushion repairing, laundering, building, hair-dressing, plumbing and the trades of blacksmith and tinsmith. But most of the men would not qualify as their sentences run for less than two years. There is also a Discharged Prisoners' Aid Society run on a voluntary basis, but nothing is done officially to rehabilitate the ex-prisoner. If a man has shown an aptitude for a certain line of work and has proven himself good at it, then the prison will recommend him to this voluntary body which will try to find him a job. But obviously, with such a steady stream of men being discharged daily all over the country, most of them are going to find it difficult to get jobs.

After hearing Krishnan's story, Peter decided that. the first thing to do was to make sure he had two good meals a day, and took him to a nearby coffee shop to arrange this with the owner. We now had to decide how to employ Krishnan. While no one could employ him as he had no I.C., he was allowed to be self-employed. So we started him straightaway in the car-washing-and-polishing business, beginning with ours! The CARE Board members willingly drove up to have their cars washed and polished and Krishnan seemed happy. We took the risk of letting him sleep in the office - with all our new equipment - as we had a live-in house-help and didn't want to endanger her, especially as Krishnan confessed that he "had done some very bad things". We were very excited about our new protege, and the telephone wires buzzed between the young Board members. "Yes, of course, we must open another house - a half-way house for ex-prisoners!" But how long could we keep Krishnan in the office? We hadn't long to wait for an answer! He disappeared as suddenly as he had come. Three weeks later he rang from Pudu jail. "I'm being held in remand. I stole a dozen bottles of beer!" He got six months for that little job - and we all sighed with relief. At least we now had six months in which to find and furnish a house and employ staff.

Nevertheless we were not quite ready - for Krishnan got two months off for good behaviour, and although Peter and I visited him in prison the day before his release and told him of the friend who would wait for him and take him home, Krishnan gave this friend the slip. Two weeks later he reappeared at the office, but it was obvious this time that he was on drugs. He came hoping for money, and as there was obviously no desire on his part to be rehabilitated, the House of Light was reluctant to take him in. Two days later he tried another ruse. "I've stolen a fan," he said. "The lady who has it is willing to give it up if I can produce the $20." Four of us parted with $5 each (how green can you be?) and Peter went off with Krishnan to recover the fan and restore it to its rightful owner. "Here!" said Krishnan, pointing to a huddle of squatter houses. Peter stopped the car and waited in vain. We have never seen Krishnan again. Yet his entry into our lives had highlighted a need, and we went ahead with our plans.

The House of Righteousness for ex-prisoners opened its doors in March 1981 with Richard Thong and Andrew Ong as our first prison workers. They were both young, married men who felt a real calling to this ministry. In the following years, they were given permission to enter prisons up and down the country, to inform those about to be released about the half-way home, to hold Bible classes in the prisons, to help them readjust to society upon their release and to try and find work for them.

As the years went by, it became apparent that almost all the men coming out of prison were on drugs. Although the prison authorities have tightened their rules - and any wardens found bringing drugs into the prison are fired immediately - yet somehow, drugs still get in. (Many men being held on remand until their cases come up - which can extend to three years - get bored with nothing to do all day, and turn to drugs. Sad indeed, that men in prison for house- breaking get on to drugs while there and return later to go on Death Row to face the ultimate penalty.)

The House of Righteousness, therefore, became super-fluous as we already had the House of Light for drug rehabilitation. The prison ministry took a different turn, and on August 1, 1989, a flat in the centre of town was rented as a "drop-in-centre".1 The purpose of the centre is "to serve as a base to help people who are discharged from prison, or involved with drugs and prostitution, and youths who are at risk of becoming involved in crime. The centre also reaches out to their family members".

The House of Light also changed its character to that of a "crisis centre", becoming a kind of clearing house to channel drug addicts to other Christian rehabilitation centres, and to help ex-prisoners who were "clean" to find work. But this brought up another problem: who will employ an ex-prisoner? Who, indeed, you may well ask, after hearing Krishnan's story!

Many companies ask two questions of job applicants: "Have you ever been on drugs?" and "Have you ever been in prison?"

"If we're honest and say 'yes'," said one ex-prisoner ruefully, "then no one will employ us. And if we say 'no', then we lie and cannot live with our conscience. We don't want pity -just a chance to prove ourselves. If our work is poor, then sack us. But at least give us a chance!"

And as the following stories show, not all ex-prisoners are like Krishnan. There are many men and women who have been truly converted in prison; who have had their lives made over anew; and who are longing to be given a chance to prove that they can work faithfully and well.

In April 1984, Miss A. Scelin joined the staff to work amongst the women prisoners in Kajang prison, some 20 miles south of Kuala Lumpur. Scelin works mainly amongst the prisoners' families, but she also has access to the prison and shares a Bible-teaching ministry with different church groups each Saturday afternoon. Scelin had to feel her way along. Through Richard Thong she was introduced to one and then another woman prisoner, and gradually began to build up relationships. Work was very slow at first as she did not always get permission to enter the prison; but patiently she has persisted and now she has a photo album of many women who regard her as their real friend. Many of them, now released and back in their homes, call her up once a week. "We keep in touch," says Scelin.

JACOB'S STORY

A fit of coughing racked Jacob's body and left him gasping for breath. These bouts of asthma had become more and more frequent, leaving him exhausted. At last it was over, and still breathing heavily, he propped himself up against the wall of his cell, his chest glistening with sweat. Life just wasn't worth living, he concluded. Not only had he to face a probable long sentence for a recent armed robbery, but there were other charges coming up for crimes committed in another town. Many years of imprisonment stretched before him. What was the matter with his life? Why had he become so angry with himself and everyone else, and been led into violence? Where had it all begun? He allowed his mind to wander back to the past in an effort to try and sort out his feelings and reactions.

He had never known his real parents. But he did know that somewhere he had a twin brother, and that before they were bom his mother had had triplets. His adoptive parents had told him a little about the circumstances resulting in his being given to them. Father, a lorry driver, had died in an accident and Mother was unable to provide for five children. His adoptive parents were his real uncle and aunt. But they had children of their own. It wasn't that they didn't like Jacob; it was their way of life to spend their time playing mahjong with the little they had, rarely winning, and more often losing the money that should have provided their young family with nourishing food. Jacob had no memories of love. The children brought themselves up; no one cared whether they studied at school, so they didn't bother. As Jacob entered his teens he became aware of gangs in the school. But they didn't interest him and he never joined them. At 15 he sat for his Lower Certificate of Education examination - and failed. School was over.

Jacob wasn't a loafer and soon found himself a job in a furniture shop learning to shellack cupboards, tables and chairs. He loved swimming and film-shows and looked forward to his first pay packet when he could indulge more often in these attractions. The great day came at last and his hand closed round the notes in his pocket as, whistling cheerfully, he left the shop. He hadn't gone far when he was suddenly surrounded by a gang of young men. "Hand it over!" one of them demanded, and the frightened 15-year-old knew he had no choice. There was the glint of knives in the evening sun and menacing expressions on the faces around him. Slowly he produced his precious pay packet which was snatched out of his hand, and with mocking laughs, the gang melted away. It was at that moment, Jacob decided, that hatred and the idea of revenge took root in his heart. The more he thought about it the more outraged he had become. He had worked hard - for a full month - for that money! It was his! And they had taken all of it... As he went on home, despair followed anger. What about next month? And the one after? He would be a sitting target every time pay-day came around. He would never be allowed to keep his pay - for which he had worked so hard.

That night he tossed to and fro on his bed. What was the use of working then? He knew the gang which had robbed him  it was the Red Flower 08s. In the early hours of the morning he made his decision - which was to set him on the road to crime, violence, and prison. He would join the 18 Immortals and get his revenge on the Red Flower 08s.

Jacob never went back to the shop. Instead, he hunted out members of the Immortals and told them he wanted to join them. There were others who had suffered at the hands of the 08s, and soon a little group of recruits was put through the initiation ceremony.

The whole gang met and transported the recruits to a quiet place, where every member had a go at hitting and kicking those who aspired to be members. The would-be members, bruised and dazed from the beating, then had four burning joss- sticks thrust into their chests. If they were still game for pain, a gang member with a knife then made a small incision in their chests and a bowl was held underneath to catch the drips of blood. When each recruit had yielded his blood, it was mixed with water - and everyone sipped from the bowl. They had become "blood brothers". Finally the recruits were forced to kneel on cockle shells and pray to the god of war. Some shrank from the test and were not allowed to become members. Not so Jacob. He came through with flying colours and became a loyal member of the gang, rising to the rank of Tiger General when he was 21. He no longer had to worry about the loss of his wages - his every need was taken care of by the gang which was involved in robbery, car theft, house-breaking, debt collection "and extorting "protection money" from shopkeepers.

Jacob sighed as he recalled his descent into crime. The hatred between the 18 Immortals and the 08s was strong. Even a little incident would spark off a fight. He remembered driving along a busy road with a friend. Ahead, crossing the road, was a member of the Red Flower gang. Jacob tooted his horn but the man took no notice. This infuriated Jacob. He stopped the car and he and his friend leapt on the man, beating him. Suddenly, the Red Flower gang materialised from out of nowhere and Jacob and his friend fled back to the safety of their car. But the nonchalant manner of that pedestrian continued to stir up anger in Jacob. A few nights later he rounded up 20 members of the Immortals and they came upon the Red Flower gang in a garage without an escape route. The unsuspecting men narrowly escaped with their lives as the Immortals attacked them with home-made spears and knives. Jacob's anger was now at fever pitch and he singled out the offending pedestrian. Aiming his spear at the man's back, he caught him a shuddering blow between the shoulders. "I almost killed him," thought Jacob, "but thank heavens, he lived." The commotion brought the police and both gangs fled.

Jacob, in his turn, now became the target for revenge. When he was sitting alone in a coffee-shop one day, members of the Red Flower gang suddenly closed in on him and began attacking him with knives. He knew they meant to kill him and ran for his life. How he escaped he would never know, he thought, and ran his hand lightly over his head, feeling again the deep scar from one of their knives. Not long after that they were all caught - both the Immortals and the Red Flowers. The Immortals had been taken off-guard. Sitting in the sawmill, their headquarters, they were whiling away the day gambling, as usual. An elderly man wandered in among the sawn planks, as if searching for something. No one paid much attention to him as he got nearer and nearer the gamblers. Suddenly, he whipped out a gun! He was a plainclothes detective - and instantly they were surrounded by the police.

A few weeks later, after the humiliation and painful experiences of the lock-up, Jacob and his gang found themselves on Pulau Jerejak, an island off Penang - face to face with their enemies the Red Flower 08s. For the next year fights continued until both sides became thoroughly weary of fighting. "What's the point?" they asked each other. A truce was declared, never to be broken. During the two years on the island, Jacob worked in the laundry. He also found ample time to submit to the painful experience of being tattooed, although this was strictly against prison rules. Most of his body - chest, arms, thighs - all bear, for life, the imprint of his life of crime. For he meant to continue with it when he was free. The sight of a tattoo would be enough to frighten any coffee-shop owner into giving him a free meal. Many believe there is some mystical power in the tattoo and that a man might become violent if his request is not humoured.

After the island came two years in Kuantan on the east coast of Peninsular Malaysia. Jacob was not in prison but was under the P.C.O. (Prevention of Crime Ordinance) and had to report regularly to the police. But this did not prevent him from getting into hot spots once again. A whole string of crimes followed, yet he escaped arrest. And then suddenly he was free! Free to return to Kuala Lumpur and to continue with the Immortals!

Jacob sighed again as he thought of that last robbery. He and his men had entered an electronics shop in the early hours of the morning. They had awakened the owner and his family and had tied them up. The man had been very vocal, he recalled, trying to talk loudly in a bid to alert his neighbour. Once again Jacob's anger had flared and he had hit the man on the head with an iron bar. Quickly they loaded their stolen van with 50 or more video cassette recorders, television sets, hundreds of smaller items and about $13,000 in cash. They were very excited about their haul as they drove to their hideout. But their luck was running out. The shopkeeper called the police, offering a $5,000 reward to anyone who could identify the gang, and his story was splashed across the front page of the newspapers. Nearby a woman read the account and began pondering the fact that her lodger had recently come by a new television set. She called the police. The lodger, although not a gang member, was a friend of Jacob's. He was forced to expose his friends and, unknown to the gang, the police now knew of their whereabouts.

All seemed very quiet that night, and after the job they had just pulled off, the gang was enjoying a much-needed night of sleep. But suddenly headlights from a dozen police cars blazed through the windows and a voice shouted through a megaphone: "We are the police! You are surrounded! Come out, every one of you!" Panic sent the men racing up the stairs and out on to the roof. One of the gang, befuddled with smoking marijuana, began pulling tiles off the roof and hurling them at the police. This brought a volley of shots from below, narrowly missing the men. Still the gang clung to the roof, determined not to give themselves up. But as dawn broke, they were exposed and became easy targets for the guns below. One by one they surrendered, Jacob hanging on to the very end. "And so here I am," murmured a despairing Jacob. "Up to my neck in crime since I was 15 and I'm now 26... I'm bound to get a long stretch for that electronics shop job. And now Kuantan has also caught up with me and there are at least three more charges coming up from there. It's going to be years before I get out of this dump. I might as well end it all... "

Just then there was a knock on the door. "Hi, Jacob! There's a chapel service today. Like to come?" A friendly grin caused Jacob to make an effort to pull himself together. "You've got nothing to lose, after all," went on the newcomer, looking at him questioningly. "Well," faltered Jacob, "I don't know. I'm not feeling too good, man." "All the more reason to come, then," encouraged Paul. "O.K. then." Jacob suddenly decided he might as well go rather than sit and mope in his cell. And as Paul said, what did he have to lose? Nothing. "That's just it- there's nothing in my life... " Following Paul, he entered the chapel, then stopped, and stared. Open-mouthed he was led to a seat where he gazed around him in astonishment. Everyone was smiling! And clapping! And singing! And everyone was a prisoner like himself. Jacob hardly heard a word of the sermon. He was too dumbfounded to pay attention. How was it possible to be happy in prison? Not only that - these were not men just about to be released. Many of them were serving long-term sentences and Paul himself was doing five years for murder. Yet look at him. He was so changed that everyone called him Jesus! What was it that had happened to these men? The meeting ended and Jacob went back to his cell as if in a dream. Paul often came and talked to him, telling him how Jesus had changed his life. There was no reason to doubt him  anyone could see what a radiant person he was.

Jacob began attending chapel regularly and, as he got used to the joyous atmosphere, he gradually began to concentrate on the preaching and to think about the implications of becoming a believer. "But what about all the people I've hurt? Can God really forgive me for all the bad things I've done?" He began to feel really sad and wished he could tell each of his victims how sorry he was. He longed for their forgiveness. There were two regular preachers from a large church called Full Gospel Assembly and Richard Thong from Malaysian CARE. Their words went to Jacob's heart and he was being drawn more and more to this God of love Who was so different from the only god he knew - the god of war.

One night in his cell, after the chapel service, he talked to God for the first time in his life. Just like his biblical namesake, he tried to make a bargain! The first Jacob had prayed: If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear so that I return safely to my father's house, then the Lord will be my God" (Genesis 28:20). The Jacob of this story prayed: "God, if you will do two things for me, I'll believe in You. One  heal my asthma. Two - make all my sentences run concurrently.

During the next two to three months Jacob began to be aware that his fits of coughing were far less, until they stopped altogether. Excitement began to well up within him. One miracle had happened! But could he, dare he, believe that all his sentences would run concurrently? The day arrived when his cases were to be heard. Trembling, he stood up in court and heard as if in a dream the pronouncement: "Three years: all sentences to run concurrently!" Jubilant, he returned to prison to share the good news with his new Christian friends who all rejoiced with him. So God had heard his bargain and honoured it. In the quietness of his cell that night he knelt and committed his life to this faithful God. "I'm your man, 0 God. Please forgive my sins and come into my life."

The following Sunday, the two preachers, Lau Tuck Seong and Ang Chooi Ching, could see at once the difference in Jacob. Gently, they laid their hands on his head. "Fill him with Your Holy Spirit, Lord," they prayed, "and deliver him from all his fears" (for Jacob had many enemies both inside and outside the prison). Immediately Jacob found himself praying in a new language with an ease he had never before experienced and with it came a new joy. Straight- away, he began reading the Bible, learning how to fast, and spending much time in prayer, especially for the people he had hurt and for himself that God would protect him from all harm and open up for him a new future.

All these prayers - often with tears - God graciously heard and answered. With Richard Thong doing his faithful "follow-up" work in between chapel services, Jacob began to grow and mature spiritually. His behaviour was good and his sentence was shortened to two years and four months.

On the day of his release he was met at the prison gates and welcomed into the House of Righteousness where he began a new life. After some months the staff helped him find a job as a driver. But like so many men who have experienced deliverance from crime or drugs, there was a deep concern in Jacob for men in prison, and after a while the way opened up for him to join the prison ministry in Malaysian CARE. As his life righted itself, he found himself accepted into a small but caring church where he met Faith. The missing dimension in his life - human love - was given by a loving and faithful God and they were married, starting off life together in a rented room.

A year later, a group of us gathered at Jacob's flat for a celebration. The light from the birthday candles flickered over his face, and played upon the smile about his mouth. "This is my first birthday party," he began. "I want to thank God and my dear wife Faith, who made the cake" (and here he paused to exchange with her a tender look over their sleeping son in Faith's arms) "and to all of you for coming." A round of applause broke forth as he blew out the candles and cut the cake.

Earlier in the day, before the birthday party, I had been browsing through a glossy magazine filled with pictures of the rich and famous. My fancy had taken flight and I mingled with the "beautiful people", admiring their rich gowns and fabulous jewels. But now, as I sat in Jacob's flat and looked around at other men who like him had been redeemed from a life of crime, and saw once-hardened faces now softened with a new gentleness that only God can give, I sighed with utter thankfulness. I knew without any doubt that I would rather be where I was then than anywhere else on earth.

PHILIP'S STORY

"Where's Philip?" asked his mother of the others gathered round the dinner table. "He's in the kampung (village) again," volunteered his younger sister. Philip's parents exchanged a questioning glance. Why was it their son spent so much time in the kampung, pondered his mother. Isn't he happy with us, his own family? The answer to that question was both "yes" and "no". His family was a happy one, as far as it went, but Philip was a gregarious child who loved to mix with others outside his family circle. The friendly Malays, with their simple kampung life, held a great attraction for him. His young mind was being filled with impressions. When a wedding occurred, for instance, he marvelled at the way every single household was involved; everyone contributed in one way or another, whether related or not.

At Hari Raya, which should have been an occasion for rejoicing and feasting after the long month of fasting, the very poor kampung folk were preparing little cakes but there was no sign of a chicken curry. Yet no one seemed upset. They had learned to be content with the little they had and generously invited Philip to share their meagre fare. He became very close to them, often spending the night in the kampung. The next Hari Raya, he determined that he would give them a nice surprise - and he did! The young Robin Hood stole a dozen or so of his uncle's chickens and delightedly handed them round to each family! "Uncle won't miss these," he consoled himself. "He's got thousands of chickens!" And what better way of learning the national language, which was to stand him in good stead later on in life?

Philip's friendship with the kampung Malays was to be the means of saving his own and the lives of all his relatives, some 50 of them, during the 1969 racial riots. His friends rallied to a man and saw that this big Chinese family was driven to safety, under an army escort. A few days later, as refugees in the Merdeka Stadium in the centre of Kuala Lumpur, they watched columns of smoke ascending from the hill where they had lived and knew their homes were gone. So ended the first chapter of Philip Lim's life.

Now an adult, Philip got a job with Economy Rent-a-Car and soon began going up the ladder. His knowledge of Malay was invaluable when it came to dealing with government departments such as the Road Transport Department. For 10 years he worked hard, getting an increasingly high salary. He loved sports and his leisure hours were often spent on the badminton court or football field. There was also Janet. They had met at work and shared the same love for badminton. They had been good friends for five years. One afternoon, after a game of badminton, it suddenly dawned on Philip that he had fallen in love with Janet. Full of hope and mounting excitement, he phoned her the next day at the insurance company where they had first met.

"Janet, I've got something important to say to you! Will you marry me?" There was a long silence at the other end. Then: "Oh Philip, I'm so sorry! I'm already engaged! I'm getting married quite soon...

"Oh! I see. Well, I do hope you'll be very happy, Janet.

Too late! Philip kicked the desk hard. Why hadn't he made a move sooner?

A few days later, a colleague of his, Brenda, gave him a call. "Philip, are you free this evening? I have some personal problems and need to talk to someone... " Philip knew Brenda well and had noted the diminishing interest of Dennis, her boyfriend. Over dinner that same evening Philip listened sympathetically, and to help Brenda, began inviting her out occasionally. The more he got to-know her the more he realised what a lovely person she was. "She would make a perfect wife for someone," he mused. And to his surprise, on impulse, he proposed! She accepted at once. But in the following weeks, Philip came to see what a mistake he had made. It was pity he felt for Brenda, not love! He was trapped. Fearful of the harm it might do to her to be rejected a second time, he married her. But a marriage without mutual love is doomed. Despite the birth of a little girl the following year, the relationship between the couple continued to deteriorate.

Finally, out of desperation, they decided to get baptised. "We both went to Christian schools so we know something about Christianity. Why don't we try becoming real Christians and see if that will help?" said Philip. Brenda was only too willing to try anything. She was desperately unhappy herself. But baptism is not a magic formula! And things went from bad to worse. Philip began dating other women, drinking and getting in with wrong company. The next step down was gambling. Every weekend he drove up to the casino at Genting Highlands and surprised himself by winning large sums of money. The more he won the more he put down on the roulette board. On one occasion, he even used his company's funds. Fortunately he was able to repay the sum. Driving his wife to work he had to pass Pudu Jail, and this made him shudder. "Gosh, I'd better be careful. I could end up in there!" But as soon as he was at the casino, his reckless spirit, driven on by marital unhappiness, caused him to throw caution to the winds. And anyway, he reasoned, he always won, didn't he? For four months his luck held. Then suddenly the tables turned. He began losing - heavily. Desperately he went again and again, hoping each time to recoup his losses. But he never won again. Ten, twenty, fifty thousand dollars - gone! And this time it was company money. Every time his firm sold a car, he pocketed the money in a vain attempt to win at the tables, but his gambling, like his marriage, was doomed.

One night Philip drove down the hill knowing that the game was up. He had gambled - and lost $100,000 of his firm's money! Trembling with fright he parked his car outside the house of his latest girlfriend and went in. Thank goodness she wasn't there. What should he do now? He sat with his head in his hands. What on earth had made him do it? He thought of his wife, Brenda. Never once had she remonstrated with him although she knew he was gambling. She was a good woman. And their little daughter! How he loved her! And what about his job - 10 years of hard work, now to be thrown away. He would never be able to face the world again. Better to end it all. Suddenly he found himself on his knees - weeping. Weeping as if his heart would break, he prayed the first sincere prayer of his life: "Please get me out of this mess! Forgive me, Lord!" And still the tears came. How long he wept he didn't know, but at last it was over and he sat quiet and still. It was then that God spoke to him, giving him clear direction. "Write out your confession and give it to the management!" He knew without any doubt that this was God's answer to his cry for help and that he must obey.

The next day, with his confession in his hands, he showed it first of all to Brenda and then to his general manager. While sympathetic, his boss could not write off such a large amount, and on talking it over with him, Philip knew he must face the consequences of his folly. On January 13, 1987, he surrendered himself to the police.

Prison! What he had dreaded was now a reality! What a terrible day that first one was: First the ride to court in a stifling police van, handcuffed. Hours of waiting. Then he was ordered to be placed on remand. The stifling van again. It was now noon and the temperature was 34°C in a humid climate. The prison gates closed behind him and he was marched from one office to another before finally reaching his cell. In the dim light coming from the small, high, barred window he made out a group of men who crowded around him demanding to know what he was charged under. One of the men kicked him in the chest and all were loud in their demands that he strip. "You stink, man!" Poor Philip was only too well aware that he did, having been in his sweaty clothes for 24 hours. Nevertheless, in spite of the men's hostility, he had a strong impression that God was with him; that he had done the right thing, and that somehow God would take care of him. He was going to need that security, especially as some of the men were violent. Philip, looking back on prison life, thought that the time in remand was easily the worst. A man might be kept in remand for up to four years while his case was being investigated, and in remand he was allowed no privileges whatever - nothing to alleviate the boredom of the long days; no work of any kind; no books, magazines or newspapers; nothing. The next day, in Philip's cell, a man died after the sharpened end of a toothbrush had been plunged into his neck.

But that first night in prison, despite a new awareness of God's presence, Philip reached rock-bottom. Sitting on the floor in just his underpants, he felt utterly degraded. The cell, full of sweaty bodies, exuded a fetid, sour stench. When it was time to sleep, one of the men indicated a place on the floor. "That's your space - three feet. Make sure you keep to it!" Eventually he fell asleep, but his last thought was of the comfortable home he had relinquished, and he wondered whether he would ever be able to return there.

" Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning" (Psalm 30:5). And rejoicing came for Philip in the form of Richard Thong - with two pairs of underpants! "I can't tell you what that thoughtful gift did for me. It restored my self-respect and dignity," he said later.

After 10 months in Pudu jail, Philip was moved to Kajang Prison, some 20 miles south of Kuala Lumpur. After his incarceration in Pudu, Kajang seemed like heaven. Built comparatively recently, the cells are larger, airier and brighter, and the prisoner can rest his weary eyes on green surroundings. While in Pudu, Brenda had visited him often, for a time, but gradually she came more and more infrequently until she ceased coming altogether. On Good Friday, 1988, Philip received her final letter - she was divorcing him! Despite their unhappy marriage, Philip felt utterly broken and rejected. He wept a long time feeling terribly alone in the world, when suddenly through his tears he was almost blinded by a bright light, and caught a glimpse of a white robe. Jesus had come! Before leaving this world Jesus had said to His disciples: "I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you." Although Philip heard no voice, he experienced the truth of these words and was restored once again.

Philip settled down in Kajang and became an active member of the Christian fellowship, attending the chapel services regularly. The days began to fly by, and soon the day of his release, January 13, 1989, drew near.

As if to impress upon him the fact that Jesus was still with him, loving and caring for him, he was given a startling dream. He saw the figures of two men on a hill looking over a most beautiful valley. One of the men was unmistakably Jesus in His white robe. He had His arm loosely draped around the shoulders of the young man beside him. While Philip watched, the young man suddenly turned to look behind him and Philip saw his face. It was his own!

For some it is difficult to find work after serving time. But while in prison, Philip had formed a friendship with an older man. Upon their release, this man offered Philip a job in his business. Philip worked with him for some time but found no satisfaction; he tried various other jobs with the same result. It so happened that in November of that same year, he went to visit Richard Thong. After a preliminary chat, Richard had to rush off to attend a meeting connected with the Reinhardt Bonnke "Festival of Praise". While Philip "held the fort" at the drop-in-centre, a man suddenly appeared at the door. "I need help," he said. Philip could see at once that the man was on drugs and began to tell him how Jesus could deliver him. Philip told him about Reinhardt Bonnke's crusade, and invited him to go. The man seemed eager to do so, and for the next five days, Philip stuck with him. At the end of the crusade he accompanied Philip to the crisis centre where he would be directed into one of the Christian rehabilitation centres. But the urge for drugs drove the man to leave the following day. Undaunted, Philip began to see that while he had been helping this man, a growing desire to help others had taken root. As Christmas approached, he joined the prison staff in distributing gift parcels to families of prisoners and found that he was able to talk easily to distressed people. By the end of the Christmas season, Philip knew without any doubt that his former job dissatisfaction lay in the fact that God was calling him into Christian ministry. Who can empathise better with the prisoner than one who has already walked the same path? Malaysian CARE also became convinced of his calling and on May 1, 1990, Philip was welcomed on to the permanent staff of the prison ministry.

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