Only in our dreams are we free; the rest of the time we need wages. –  English novelist Terry Pratchett

There is never enough time, unless you’re serving it. – Publisher Malcolm Forbes

The former Prime Minister who yearned to be called Bossku, but was Fearless, thought serving a prison sentence was no disgrace but was confoundedly inconvenient.

Fearless hadn’t served two years yet but had spent more time in court than Tommy Thomas. For one thing, he’d tried mightily to overturn his 12-year sentence but to no avail. For another, he still faced a slew of other charges, relating to more looting, for which he had to attend court.  

You don’t get to be what the foreign media calls the “world’s biggest kleptocrat” without consequences.

Despite that, the man seemed bent on ducking prison time. His lawyers are now insisting he be allowed to serve out his time at home. That’s what “house arrest” means.  

Why not, they argued craftily. It would solve prison over-crowding pretty much immediately. 

The rub, of course, is it makes a mockery of the criminal justice system and legitimises corruption. It’s not for nothing society invents phrases such as “crime does not pay.” 

Fearless and his chubby co-conspirator Felonious aka Jho Low stand accused of stealing over RM40 billion from the state’s coffers at a time when the former was the Prime Minister. Felonious is still at large – both literally and metaphorically – but is believed to be living off his ill-gotten gains in China. The country denies it, of course, but it would, wouldn’t it?   

It follows that what Fearless is requesting from the courts is permission to serve out the rest of his sentence in the comfort of his well-appointed house with its lush garden, pristine bathrooms and air-conditioned bedrooms. Add to that a well-stocked larder, a  resident chef, countless help, and a couple of discreet bodyguards and you get a whiff of Felonious’ current lifestyle in A Country That Denies His Existence. 

This is the conundrum the criminal is currently calling on the courts to consider. 

To call it unprecedented is to state the obvious. No Malaysian premier has ever been jailed before either but as Bangkok or Islamabad will testify, it’s been known to happen. 

There is, of course, the monumental problem of the non-existence of such a provision. Simply put, there is no such thing as “house arrest” in the Malaysian penal code and prison wardens do not operate from houses, at least not since 1957. Nor is it anywhere in the Federal Constitution or in the Pardons’ Act.  

Moreover, there are those remaining charges against Fearless. These aren’t minor either:  they address the alleged kleptocracy head on. 

What happens if those charges stick? 

Watching from the safety of his hideout, Felonious’ tubby ticker bled for his erstwhile comrade-in-harm. The rotund robber shuddered at the thought of the fare Fearless might be receiving in prison.

With a guilty pang, he realised his own larder bulged with nothing but the best, the finest Italian hams, the choicest Dutch cheeses, the sweetest Persian figs;  the stuff   gourmands drool over in dreams. 

He washed away a lingering residue of guilt with another goblet of ice-cold Krug and felt it could have been worse.  

It could have been him. 

ENDS