MALAYSIA/SINGAPORE: A story first told in 2023 is circulating again on Facebook, drawing fresh attention to a father in Malaysia who has spent more than a decade riding into Singapore in the dark to see his imprisoned son for 15 minutes.
According to 8world News, the man is Cheong Kah Pin, now about 70 years old. He wakes up at 2 am, rides his motorcycle from Johor Bahru, and crosses the Causeway to Changi Prison. By around 3 am, he reaches a petrol station opposite the prison and waits there until prison visiting hours begin at 8 am.
His son, Cheong Chun Yin, was arrested in June 2008 at Changi Airport for smuggling heroin and was later sentenced to death. At the time, Chun Yin was 24. Cheong told 8world News that his son believed he was helping a friend’s boss deliver gold bars to Singapore and was promised RM8,000 (S$2560) for the job. The package, however, turned out to contain drugs.
After several appeals, Chun Yin’s death sentence was commuted in 2014 following changes to Singapore’s Misuse of Drugs Act. He is now serving life imprisonment and 15 strokes of the cane. Under Singapore law, a life sentence can be reviewed after 20 years, meaning Chun Yin’s case may be reviewed in 2028.
Cheong said he chose to ride out in the early hours because of his age and his old motorcycle. “I’m old, and when I ride the motorcycle, I am afraid I will knock into others or vice versa,” he told reporters. “I come early and ride slowly. There’s a petrol station beside the prison, and I will sit there and wait.”
Each visit lasts just 15 minutes. Still, Cheong has made the trip every two weeks for over ten years. And over that time, he has watched the area around the prison change. Trees have grown taller. Old buildings have been torn down. The petrol station remains his waiting point. “I am also familiar with the staff at the petrol station, and he sometimes buys tea for me,” Cheong said, calling the staff his “kawan” (friend).
The case reshaped Cheong’s life. To fund his son’s legal defence, he sold three houses he had bought after years of farm work. He now rents a small home in Johor Jaya for about RM700 (S$223) a month. To get by, he harvests vegetables twice a day and sells them at a nearby public market.
He also spoke about a loss that still weighs on him. Cheong’s mother, close to 90, died five months before the interview. Her last wish was to see her grandson released, but Cheong could not fulfill her wish, he said tearfully.
When 8world News shared the story online, it drew more than 1.5 million views. Messages poured in. Some offered money. Others offered to arrange transport so he would not have to ride alone in the dark. In a follow-up video, Cheong broke down while listening to public voice messages, including those from Singaporeans offering help and support.
Cheong, however, declined every offer. He said, “I don’t want to trouble you all. Seeing you all care for me has already made me very happy. I don’t want anybody’s money… I just want my son to be released.”
If people insisted on helping, Cheong suggested something simple instead: visit his vegetable stall at Pasar Awam Taman Johor Jaya, which operates from 3 am to 10 am and again from 5 pm to 10 pm.
As the story resurfaced, the Facebook post drew a fresh wave of public response. Some still offered practical help, including a spare room in the east where Cheong could rest until visiting hours began. Others suggested helping him set up tele-visits through the Singapore Prison Service system, which allows 30-minute video calls.
Several commenters spoke more broadly about justice and mercy, saying they believed in second chances and that each case deserved individual review, especially after more than a decade served.
Many were also struck by the quiet endurance of a father who has aged alongside his son’s sentence, describing the story as a reminder of a parent’s willingness to give up his own comfort and health, and even years, simply to remain present as one wrote:
“This is a reminder to us how great a Father’s love is. He sacrificed his life for his son,” while another added, “A father’s love is rarely seen, but when it is, you can tell that their love can be equal to or, if not stronger than, that of a mother.”
The story has resonated again because it touches the hearts of many beyond one family. It speaks to how punishment extends beyond prison walls, and how parents continue to carry the weight of their children’s mistakes long after the courts have ruled.
In Cheong’s case, love has taken a steady, quiet form, measured not in words but in years of waiting before dawn, as he makes his only request: “I hope the Singapore government will give my son another chance so we can reunite one day.”
Watch Cheong’s heartfelt story in the three-part series below:
