The Merchants of Malice

by Yeoh Siew Hoon

A prime minister-wanna be (A) accused of sodomy. Another prime minister wanna-be (B) implicated in murder of beautiful Mongolian woman (C).

A private investigator (D) who makes startling allegations, linking B with C, retracts them within hours and then, lo and behold, disappears, sparking a global manhunt.

Questions: Would A be so stupid as to actually commit the same act for which he was accused years ago and thrown into prison? If B is really involved in murder of said woman, then why is B’s close associate (E) taking the rap for it? Did B pay E off, as well as assure him he would get off?

What is the price of a man’s soul?

Was B’s wife (F) really at the scene of the crime as alleged by blogger (G) who is now awaiting trial for libel? Did she act out of a) scorn, b) anger, c) hate, d) jealousy, e) desperation, f) love or g) all of the above?

Would G have dared to utter such an explosive (pardon the word) piece of information if he did not have evidence? And where the hell is D? Is he dead or alive?

If you didn’t know better, you would think this was the script for a new television drama called “Desperate Politicians and Angry Housewives”. But unless you live on another planet, you would know this is happening in real life in a country near you. (All countries are near each other now that we are a global, connected, cuddly-wuzzy-fuzzy world.)

My mother says it’s more interesting than the Korean TV soaps she’s been watching, along with millions of women across Asia.

She sits religiously through each episode even though not much happens. The acting’s really bad, the dubbing’s awful and the plot unfolds so slowly it’s like watching paint dry.

My mother says you can miss several episodes and still catch up on the story.

This real drama is more interesting, she says, because it’s got more twists and turns than the snake and ladders game she used to play as a child.

It’s juicier too – it’s got sex, power, money, murder, betrayal and jealousy all wrapped up in one steamy ketupat (the rice cake you eat with satay, delicious).

Plus it’s got high stakes – the leadership of a country no less. And when stakes are that high, you either have everything to lose or nothing to lose because if you lose everything, well, then you’ve got nothing.

Shakespeare would have been proud to write this story.

On August 10, I will catch a play written by a Malaysian friend, Kee Thuan Chye. His play, “The Swordfish, Then The Concubine”, is being staged in Singapore by Wild Rice.

Chye and I worked together on the same newspaper donkey years ago. While I was sent out to cover weddings and funerals, he was reading serious books and writing serious stuff. I wanted to grow up to be just like him.

His play was shortlisted from 600 entries for reading at the 21st International Playwriting Competition at the Warehouse Theatre, UK, in 2006 and will open the Singapore Theatre Festival next month.

It’s based on two myths in Singapore history. The synopsis reads: “Swordfish attack Singapura, terrorising its citizens. A boy saves the kingdom by lining the beach with banana stems. But the Sultan, at his ministers’ advice, has the boy executed.

“A generation later, the Sultan’s successor, his son, breaks the covenant between subject and ruler when he has his concubine publicly executed on trumped-up charges, bringing untold shame to her family.

Sure enough, an armada of ships from the Majapahit empire soon appears on the horizon, and threatens Singapura’s supremacy.”

Power, sex, betrayal, murder – the stuff of every good story, myth or real.

Be sure to catch “The Swordfish, Then The Concubine” and stay tuned to “Desperate Politicians and Angry Housewives

And be sure to catch Yeoh Siew Hoon, every week in the Transit Cafe – www.thetransitcafe.com