Pulp fiction, part two.

Today, Tiarnan had his school "concert". I use inverted commas because no-one sings at this "concert", nor do they play musical instruments, so, in fact, I puzzle why the word is used, at all. However, in Malaysia, this particular kind of ceremony is called a "concert".

Basically, it is a periodic celebration of the school. Each class performs a dance, set to various pieces of modern music, some quirky, some trendy. Also each member of the graduating classes, dresses in "academic attire" (like little University students, even though they are in Kindergarten), and receives a "scroll". It is quite quaint, in its own way.

Anyway, today, Tiarnan danced. I found myself grinning, helplessly, when he began to dance - out of pride, not amusement, you understand. He was dressed in a rather Spanish fashion, with orange sequinned trousers and a black jacket. The dance was very energetic, with a lot of hip shaking, and big motions of the arms. There were even some characteristic sweeps of parted fingers, across the eyes, that was straight out of Pulp Fiction, by Quentin Tarantino. In fact, as I watched Tiarnan perform so energetically, I was reminded of John Travolta. There is something so intrinsically HEIGHTENED about Tiarnan, on stage, that he calls to mind similarly magnetic personalities.

It is clear that Tiarnan enjoys dancing and that he has a certain flair for it. He seems to make the movements live: they are not just motions, they are expressions of some deep inner life.

Yet, I noticed something. Today's dance did not have the precision of motion, that his dance of a couple of years ago had, in Singapore. This can only mean one thing: he wasn't given the direction and feedback, he received, last time, this time. I feel that his class is rather too big to handle and so he is not receiving the individual attention he used to receive in his, much smaller school in Singapore. It is funny to see, but the difference in class size is most evident in the way not only Tiarnan danced, but all the children danced. The moves were there...but they were not precisely deployed - minor deviations which upset the perfection of the whole, had not been corrected by careful feedback - and so the performances were not as "perfect" as they might otherwise have been.

I remember well how Tiarnan, four, had danced a couple of years ago. That day I found myself shocked at the certainty of his movements, at their fluidity, grace and apt choice. He seemed, not like a child, at all, but like a shrunken adult dancer, with all the control and poise one expects of such. Yet, he was but two years old, or so. On seeing him, I saw his mother on the stage, for she is a natural dancer of much talent. He had, it seemed, inherited her precision of motion, her expressiveness and bodily control. It was odd, though, seeing such qualities in one so small. The other children looked clumsy and graceless by comparison: they all seemed so ill-coordinated when stood alongside Tiarnan's slick perfection. If it is possible to seem grown up, by the way one moves, Tiarnan seemed to be an adult, that day, even though he was - and is - quite a diminutive figure. Something in him, however, is quite mature: that which commands the movement of his body, knows just how to do so, with just the right motion, at just the right speed, to seem beautiful in action.

Today, he danced well. However, I saw that he missed the input he had previously received. He lacked the gentle critic, of an interested observer, that can make a good performance, great.

This observation does inspire in me a little worry. If he lacks input on this task, might he not be receiving it on all others, too? Are the teachers so overwhelmed by numbers that they end up herding students, rather than teaching them?

Overall, the concert was cute, but a little strange at times. Malaysia is a conservative, Muslim country - but the boys and girls had colourful costumes, that were all styled after adult, dancer costumes. Thus, for some of the dances, I did feel that the girls were not appropriately dressed, especially considering that they were between three and six years old. In one dance, for instance, with an Indian theme, the girls wore red tops that were cut short, to expose their midriffs. It just seemed odd, that five year old girls should be dancing with such adult costumes on. Another dance, had six year old girls wearing gold knitted tops with large holes, in a Middle Eastern style, doing belly dance like motions. Again, culturally speaking, it did seem a bit peculiar.

That being said, I think the kids enjoyed the chance to express themselves, on stage and to get to learn a dance. I would, however, like to see more focussed choreography, with a view to bringing out the best performance, from the students. Some classes were much better in this regard than others. In my view, that points to a better teacher, who is making more of an effort. I shall keep a careful eye, on future concerts, for what it tells me about Tiarnan's teachers.

Well done, Tiarnan, on such a lively dance. I think Mr. John Travolta has got some little competition on the way.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html

I also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

There is a review of my blog, on the respected The Kindle Report here: http://thekindlereport.blogspot.com/2010/09/boy-who-knew-too-much-child-prodigy.html

Please have a read, if you would like a critic's view of this blog. Thanks.

You can get my blog on your Kindle, for easy reading, wherever you are, by going to: http://www.amazon.com/Boy-Who-Knew-Too-Much/dp/B0042P5LEE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1284603792&sr=8-1

Please let all your fellow Kindlers know about my blog availability - and if you know my blog well enough, please be so kind as to write a thoughtful review of what you like about it. Thanks.

My Internet Movie Database listing is at: http://imdb.com/name/nm3438598/

Ainan's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3305973/

Syahidah's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

Our editing, proofreading and copywriting company, Genghis Can, is at http://www.genghiscan.com/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Use only with permission. Thank you.)

Don't underestimate a gifted child

When I was 11, I wrote an essay for my teacher, Mr. Warburg. I put a lot of effort, into the essay, because, you see, I was a new boy in my school, King’s College School, Wimbledon. I wanted to show what I could do, with words and ideas. So, I put together as effective an essay as I could, in the time that I had. I remember, well, the evening of work that I put it together, perhaps because it was one of the first written tasks, I had been set, in my new school.

The next morning, I handed the essay in, not knowing how well I had done, but knowing that, I had, at least tried to complete the task, according to my understanding of it.

A couple of days later, when it came to Mr. Warburg’s English lesson, he looked over at me, from under his bushy, overgrown eyebrows and asked me to come to the front of the class.

“Read out your essay.”, he began.

His eyes were very intent upon me, too intent, though I didn’t notice it, at the time. I was too busy being nervous. I wasn’t accustomed to the idea of standing in front of the class and reading out my work. I was, as well, the “new boy” – or one of them, so I wasn’t really all that familiar with my classmates, either. They were still, largely, strangers to me.

I came to the front of the class as requested, with my essay in tow. I looked out across the sea of gazing eyes, upon me and then down at the page, before me – and began to read. I read it as carefully as I could, feeling a tight nervousness inside, as I did so. I didn’t want to be seen to make a mistake in front of so many unfamiliar witnesses. I didn’t want to seem to be a fool, in front of my new classmates. It was early days, in school, and I wanted to build a reputation, not slaughter it.

I stumbled over one word, as I read. I still remember that word: “Hieroglyph”. I had seen it written down, many times – and had used it, myself, this time, but never before had I said it, before an audience. My tongue clambered over it, and tripped a little on the task.

Mr. Warburg sat silent beside me. His dark eyes, darkened – but he said nothing.

Once I had finished reading, the class applauded me, for my work. Hands clapped together, in appreciation of all the effort I had put in, to crafting my work. They really seemed to like it. I was very pleased, but rather shy to be so applauded. I didn’t quite know where to put myself.

Just as the clapping began to ebb, Mr. Warburg pounced:

“YOU didn’t write that!”, he accused, with a sudden bellow, that startled me. From a silent presence, he had transformed, in an instant, into a venomous, accusatory one. He sat coiled beside me, stiff with tension, as if ready to strike, like a snake.

There I was, before a whole classroom of evaluating eyes.

Silence fell, on all but Mr. Warburg.

“You COPIED it out of an encylopaedia!”, he further accused, with a snarl.

I felt, then, as if my whole world had imploded. Suddenly, all those eyes didn’t seem so friendly. Some of them even seemed gleeful. A generalized sense of discomfort pervaded the room – mine and that of all the other boys.

I began to shake a little, so overcome was I, with a sickening feeling. I was but a child and a sensitive one, at that. I was on the edge of tears and, were it not for so many cool, unmerciful eyes upon me, I would have begun to cry.

“I didn’t…”, I protested, softly, unable to muster the volume, to match Mr. Warburg’s.

He just scoffed at me.

“Get back to your seat!”, he ordered, dismissively.

I stumbled back to my chair, utterly dazed. I had written of my best. I had tried my hardest to do the work to the best of my ability. I had tried to show Mr. Warburg, what I, the new boy, could do – and this was my reward: to be accused of plagiarism and shamed in front of the whole class.

The fact is, every word of that essay had been mine and no-one’s but mine. I had read and researched the piece – but every word was of my own thought. It was clear what had happened: my best effort, had been rather too good for Mr. Warburg’s liking, and Mr. Warburg’s experience. He simply did not believe that an eleven year old boy could possibly have written it. Well, I had.

I learnt something that day – but it wasn’t the sort of lesson a gifted child should learn, really. Although I enjoyed writing essays, I never again put out the effort, for Mr. Warburg, that I had on that early essay. I never again tried my best – after all, I knew what happened if one tried one’s best for Mr. Warburg: he would publicly accuse one of being a plagiarist and shame one in front of the entire class. So, I made sure that that would never happen again. I wrote an answer to every question set – but never again strived for perfection, where Mr. Warburg’s work was concerned. It was dangerous to do so: best to just write the first thing that came into one’s head and leave it at that.

Over time, however, Mr. Warburg came to understand that I wrote well. However, he never apologized for his public accusation or the terror of that moment, that he had put me through. Furthermore, I never forgave him for it. For me, thereafter, Mr. Warburg was an ogre just waiting to happen.

A few years later, I heard some hot news, which was running rampant around the school.

Mr. Warburg had died of a heart attack.

I couldn’t have been happier. To my young mind, no-one on this Earth deserved an early death better than Mr. Warburg. The day of his death, was a good day for me. He was a rotten man, who could be truly cruel to his students. I was so glad he was gone. I felt, somehow, that he had finally got what he deserved.

The thing that made him a rotten man, was not just that he had publicly shamed me, as he had, on the basis of nothing more than supposition and the stereotyping of eleven year olds – but that, when he realized, later on in the year, that I ALWAYS wrote well, even on fictional pieces, that could not have been copied from anywhere, he NEVER apologized for what he had done. Nor did he make redress for the damage by admitting that he had been wrong, to the class, so as to repair the damage done to my good name – or at least, the good name I had wanted to build. Mr. Warburg had made it a whole lot harder.

A gifted child is often, not only not rewarded for their gifts, but punished for them – as I was, the day I read out my essay for Mr. Warburg. The problem with such moments, is not just the emotional damage of the incident itself, but how it might change the gifted child’s attitude towards their own gifts. Some gifted children may just give up “showing their gift” in any way, at all. Some gifted children would start to deliberately underachieve when faced with the kind of response I received that day.

Fortunately, I never lost my enjoyment of writing and kept at it, for my own happiness, if not for anyone else’s. However, from that day forward, I feared Mr. Warburg. Being in his classroom was a constant stressor, for I knew just how unpleasant he could be. I never wanted to be the victim of his nastiness again. Fortunately, I never was – but I never forgot just what he could be like.

That memory was what made me happy, the day Mr. Warburg died. The ogre was finally gone. Never again would he persecute a child for the essay they had written. It was a good day.

Now, I wonder, what would Mr. Warburg think of this particular little essay?

It isn’t as well written as the piece he attacked me for – but then, he doesn’t really deserve a great piece of prose. I have, instead, written the first thing that came into my head…which is just what he entrained in me, by rejecting my best efforts, as not my own.

I never did find out what Mr. Warburg’s first name was, otherwise I would write it here. Never mind – his surname is most evocative and seems appropriate for the kind of man he was. He was not a kind man. He was not a perceptive man. He was not a tactful man. He was not a particularly intelligent man. He was a cruel man. He had a bit of a temper. He cared little for the feelings of his students. He was my form teacher for a year. I came first in my year, in the final examinations – but he never said a word to me, of congratulations, of encouragement, or of apology for how he had treated me.

That was just the kind of man he was: an unkind one.

He only ever managed to make me smile, once. He did that by dying.

I wonder, now, at the lack of wisdom in Mr. Warburg’s life, that he should have lived it, in such a way, that the happiest moment, he ever created, in his star student, was inspired by his own death. If I still did not have that image of him shaming me in front of the class, I might find it in me, to pity him, for his lack of insight, into how to live a good life, in a good way, that makes a mark of goodness on the world. He knew nothing of that. He only knew how to set a child up, for a fall, in front of a class of merciless young boys. I suppose, that to modern eyes, what Mr. Warburg did, that day, would be termed abuse. It remains, to this day, one of my most indelible memories, of childhood. It also captures, the dilemma of being gifted, that I experienced every day, whether I was aware of it or not.

It is this: whether to show one’s gifts, and be denounced for them, or to fail to express one’s gifts, and be forever frustrated?

I chose to express them…and was denounced. Would I have been happier had I chosen otherwise? I think not. The right choice, is to express one’s self, never mind the reaction. To do otherwise, is to suffocate in public, each and every day.

The world is filled with Mr. Warburgs. The gifted must remember this and not allow the Warburgs to snuff out their gifts. Continue to express yourself, no matter how many people attack you for it. The only way to become, is to externalize, what lies within. The writer must write, the actor must act, the scientist must think – and the musician play. Never let the unbelievers, silence you. Think on – and one day the world will be glad that you did so, when it finally awakens to what it is, you have to say.

Believe me, that day will come…it just might take much of your life, in the becoming.

Be patient. Be strong…and just BE.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.htmlI also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

There is a review of my blog, on the respected The Kindle Report here: http://thekindlereport.blogspot.com/2010/09/boy-who-knew-too-much-child-prodigy.html

Please have a read, if you would like a critic's view of this blog. Thanks.

You can get my blog on your Kindle, for easy reading, wherever you are, by going to: http://www.amazon.com/Boy-Who-Knew-Too-Much/dp/B0042P5LEE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1284603792&sr=8-1

Please let all your fellow Kindlers know about my blog availability - and if you know my blog well enough, please be so kind as to write a thoughtful review of what you like about it. Thanks.

My Internet Movie Database listing is at: http://imdb.com/name/nm3438598/

Ainan's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3305973/

Syahidah's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

Our editing, proofreading and copywriting company, Genghis Can, is at http://www.genghiscan.com/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Use only with permission. Thank you.)

Singapore's strange media silence.

You could be forgiven for thinking that Ainan was not Singaporean. You might form that impression by reading the Singaporean newspapers. You see, what was remarkable about them, over the past couple of weeks, was the absence of any mention of Ainan in them. Only one newspaper, the Zaobao, made mention of Ainan's scientific discovery of Velociperception, at the age of 8 - but even that was a very strange article for it claimed that Ainan's mother was a Malaysian (in other words, "Ainan is no loss to Singapore, because he doesn't even come from here".)

Now, I find this all very odd. Firstly, Ainan's mother, Syahidah is a Singaporean by birth. However her MOTHER was Malaysian by birth. Thus Syahidah is half Malaysian by blood and half Singaporean Malay by blood - and Singaporean by citizenship. Ainan was born in Singapore and was thus born into Singaporean citizenship. It is odd, indeed, therefore, that Singapore's national media should almost entirely ignore a Singaporean born boy who made a scientific discovery at age 8. Any other nation on Earth, would be so proud of such a development that they would scream it to the world at the top of their media lungs. Not so Singapore. Singapore, it very much seems, cannot be proud of the achievement of a half-Malay boy. No, you see, in the unwritten script of the national Singaporean story, Malays achieve nothing worthwhile and all the kudos goes to the dominant Chinese. It doesn't fit their national script to have a half-Malay boy achieve anything, let alone become the youngest person in history, to discover anything scientific, as he is.

There is something else interesting about the Zaobao story. Firstly, they called Ainan's mother, Malaysian, to rewrite his script as no loss to Singapore, because he wasn't from Singapore in the first place. This is, of course a lie. Secondly, I recall that they referred to Ainan as "Yinan". This is very interesting, for this is a CHINESE name. They are reframing Ainan's Malay success story, as a Chinese success story.

Now, I don't know whether these are innocent mistakes on the part of Zaobao - whether they, in fact, picked up this misinformation elsewhere and simply repeated it. I know this, however: the Zaobao article has been PULLED from the internet, since then and Google is no longer able to find it. Old links that point to the article now go to a blank page on Zaobao. This is very interesting. It seems to show that Zaobao's coverage, though minute, was not approved of, by other members of the PAP power structure - and even that little coverage was pulled once they realized it had gone out. The idea, of course, is that Singaporeans should not ever know about Ainan's growing achievements. I believe that Singapore will follow a rule regarding Ainan: the more he achieves, the less they will write of him. In the long term, this will mean that the people on Earth least informed about Ainan, a born Singaporean, will be the Singaporean people themselves.

None of this really matters to us, personally. If Singapore wants to keep the truth from its people, there is little we can do about that, except perhaps write a comment on a blog that only a small number of people will ever see. Eventually, however, the people of Singapore will work out what Singapore is doing. They will see, for instance, Ainan's growing presence on the internet and the many articles, IN OTHER COUNTRIES, referencing his achievements, and they will realize, that their local media have been unaccountably silent. They will understand, then, what is happening. Will this improve the impression Singaporeans have of their media? I don't think so. It will just show them what kind of media they have. It will show them that, more often than not, the most interesting stories, are the ones they never get to hear.


Imagine a future in which Ainan wins a major scientific prize, one day. It doesn't have to be the Nobel. There are other science prizes, too. What would happen then? Well, I think it would be very instructive for any Singaporeans who keep an eye on the internet for news of Ainan. If Ainan should one day win a major scientific prize, or make a major scientific discovery (in a way he already has...), the whole world will be alive with news of it, except for one, very quiet little island. In such an eventuality, the only country that would not know about Ainan's achievement, would be Singapore itself.

What a strange, little country Singapore is. Is there anywhere else in the world, outside of Soviet Russia, China, Burma and North Korea, capable of such a thing? Clearly, Singapore is keeping very interesting company, in the way it conducts itself. I wonder if the powers-that-be ever reflect on their own nature? What do they think of themselves and what they are doing?

Now, this post is written with two background facts in mind. Firstly, the only article to make it, briefly, to the internet, from Singapore, was the Zaobao article. No other article had an online presence. Furthermore, none of our relatives in Singapore heard of any news articles about Ainan. Therefore, I am assuming that there were no other articles of which I am unaware. If you know otherwise, please comment below.

Given that our relatives didn't hear anything, about Ainan, in the papers, it is most likely that there are no other articles - certainly not in the English or Malay press. That, in itself, is enough to support the analysis of this article.

It is funny to contemplate that, in the long term, the people least informed about the life and achievements of Singaporean born Ainan Celeste Cawley, look set to be the Singaporean people themselves. Now, how strange is that? By contrast, all other Chinese speaking countries in the world, and all other Chinese speaking newspapers in the world, gave significant coverage to Ainan's discovery. The question is: why didn't Singapore's media do the same?

Answers, please, below.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html

I also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

There is a review of my blog, on the respected The Kindle Report here: http://thekindlereport.blogspot.com/2010/09/boy-who-knew-too-much-child-prodigy.html

Please have a read, if you would like a critic's view of this blog. Thanks.

You can get my blog on your Kindle, for easy reading, wherever you are, by going to: http://www.amazon.com/Boy-Who-Knew-Too-Much/dp/B0042P5LEE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1284603792&sr=8-1

Please let all your fellow Kindlers know about my blog availability - and if you know my blog well enough, please be so kind as to write a thoughtful review of what you like about it. Thanks.

My Internet Movie Database listing is at: http://imdb.com/name/nm3438598/

Ainan's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3305973/

Syahidah's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

Our editing, proofreading and copywriting company, Genghis Can, is at http://www.genghiscan.com/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Use only with permission. Thank you.)

Transformers and the analytical mind.

Ainan, 10, likes computer games as much as any other young boy. However, his approach to playing them, might not be as common.

About a week ago, I noted something odd. Every time Ainan played his Transformers computer game on the PS3, he would write down some numbers.

"What are you doing Ainan?"

"Oh, I am compiling statistics on the relative performance of different Transformers, under different combat conditions."

I paused a little at that. Most kids would just play the game.

"Why are you doing that?"

"I just want to find out which are the best at doing various things."

His attention was not on me. It was on the numbers he was compiling. I left him to it.

This little incident, though, made me think about what life was like for a child scientist. The need to analyze, examine and understand is ever present, in such a child - and even invades their everyday activities. Indeed, I think that doing something like Ainan was doing, last week, is indicative of a mind with a scientific bent. Any child who pauses to analyze his world, to put its nature into numbers or laws or observations, is a child who is thinking like a scientist. So, even if they have never actually done such a thing in the context of a science lesson in school, if you find them doing it in their everyday life, then, assuredly, you have a young scientist on your hands.

Ainan is always analyzing his world. He does so, I think, without even realizing that he is doing so. That he should so unconsciously sit down and turn a game of Transformers into an exercise in scientific observation, is just typical. Ainan, of course, wouldn't see anything unusual about it. To him, it would be a natural product of his curiosity about the game world, to do so.

This kind of playful curiosity about the world and its nature - even if applied to an imaginary game world, such as Transformers, is good preparation for real science. The very same processes that are used in science, are being used by Ainan in his analysis of the game. The only difference between that and what others would declare as "real science" is the subject matter. Indeed, the very same thought processes and analyses could be applied to a real world experiment, in a different context.

Yet, I wonder: how would other children view Ainan's analytical interest in the underlying power structure of the game? Would they think it acceptable, or odd? Or would they, indeed, be interested in the results for how it might inform their own game playing? Would they, too, see it as a natural extension of a child's interest in playing a game well, for enjoyment?

I will probably never know, since I don't think I am going to ask another child about it. For now, however, I will just let Ainan be and let him enjoy his analysis of the Transformers world. Does it really matter how many - or how few - other children might do the same kind of analysis? Not really. It only matters that the task has meaning and enjoyment for Ainan. Any other consideration is unnecessary.

Happy game playing Ainan.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html

I also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

There is a review of my blog, on the respected The Kindle Report here: http://thekindlereport.blogspot.com/2010/09/boy-who-knew-too-much-child-prodigy.html

Please have a read, if you would like a critic's view of this blog. Thanks.

You can get my blog on your Kindle, for easy reading, wherever you are, by going to: http://www.amazon.com/Boy-Who-Knew-Too-Much/dp/B0042P5LEE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1284603792&sr=8-1

Please let all your fellow Kindlers know about my blog availability - and if you know my blog well enough, please be so kind as to write a thoughtful review of what you like about it. Thanks.

My Internet Movie Database listing is at: http://imdb.com/name/nm3438598/

Ainan's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3305973/

Syahidah's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

Our editing, proofreading and copywriting company, Genghis Can, is at http://www.genghiscan.com/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Use only with permission. Thank you.)

A death that says so much about a country.

Recently, a man died in Malaysia.

Now, I wrote that sentence deliberately in that way, so that you would have the thought: "What is so unusual about that?". Well, in this case it was a most unusual death.

Koay Chin Cai was a 64 year old taxi driver, in George Town, Penang. At about 5.30 pm on Saturday, he was waiting outside a block of low cost flats, for a passenger. However, it was not a passenger who found him, but a stone, of about 14 cm by 10 cm, flung from the nearby block of flats. It struck him on the head, causing fatal head injuries.

Now, that is shocking enough. It is shocking that someone should care so little about human life that they would throw a stone from a flat, perhaps to dispose of some rubbish, instead of carefully placing it in a bin. Such carelessness, or lack of effort, had cost the life of a father and husband. However, what was even more shocking to me, is what happened next. I would like you to guess what happened as this man lay dying in the street on a Saturday afternoon, besides his taxi.

Have you genuinely imagined what happened? Please do so.

I shuddered to learn, what happened to this man as he lay dying. Somebody, some passerby, on seeing him dying in the street, did not, as you might expect, hurry to his aid. No. That unknown someone actually went through his pockets and stole his wallet and his handphone. They actually robbed a fatally injured man, rather than trying to do something to help him.

So, who was worse: the one who threw the stone - or the one who robbed the man? I think, ethically speaking, the one who robbed the dying man, is by far the worse of the two. You see, that person did what they did, knowing that he was defenceless and in need of assistance to save his life. The other person, who threw the stone, probably just did not consider the consequences of throwing the stone. If so, they are less ethically unsound than the robber...just stupid and careless.

However, we don't know what actually happened here. Perhaps the stone thrower and the robber are the same person. Perhaps it was a deliberate mugging. Perhaps the stone thrower intended to hit the taxi driver and derives some kind of kick out of hurting/killing/maiming strangers. We know this, however: Penang harbours at least one reckless individual and at least one heartless individual. In fact, that two such misfortunes should befall this man in quick succession, does suggest that there are many criminally inclined individuals in Penang, which is, reputedly, one of the safer areas of Malaysia.

Malaysia really needs to do something serious, about its crime problem. It is a lovely country, but that loveliness is marred by the ugliness of its criminal minority. The acts they are capable of are quite shocking and bring a worrisome edge, to life in this engaging nation.

I have noted that, on the two occasions, we have had to call police to our house, for break in attempts in the ten months we have been here (yes, you read right: two break in attempts, in ten months...a disturbingly high frequency of event), the police made no effort to gather any forensic evidence that would allow them to catch the criminals concerned. On one occasion, for instance, a policeman noted a footprint on the roof. No photograph of it was taken. On the other occasion, fence panels had been removed - but they were not finger printed. To my mind, this means that the police really do not have much intention of catching criminals - or, at least, are not sufficiently motivated to do what is necessary to do so.

On the second occasion, the police even refused to allow us to make a police report. Why? Because they said: "No damage was done". The real reason may have something to do with the importance of the neighbour over whose property the intruder had to have come. That, and the need, perhaps, to keep the crime statistics down.

We are grateful, however, that the police came out in force, on both occasions. Had the culprits still been around, they would have been caught. However, it would be good to see forensics being used to gather data that could identify criminals and take them off the streets.

As for the case in Penang. I hope that both the stone thrower and the robber are caught - and that both receive the maximum penalty. I understand that there is the death penalty for murder - and murder may be argued for the stone thrower. However, emotionally, I feel that the robber is more heinous in their actions...so perhaps, they should share in whatever penalty the thrower receives. No nation needs to keep on the streets - and alive - anyone who can rob a dying man. They should suffer the same penalty as the killer.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.htmlI also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

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