Changi jailbirds' wrenching tell-all

THERE seems to be a popular belief among jailbirds that when you enter Changi Prison, it's best to stop thinking about Singapore altogether - its food, its places, its entertainment, its people. When the older ones catch a newcomer getting misty-eyed about life before prison, they chide him with: "Eh, don't Singapore, eh!" - a weirdly abbreviated, ungrammatical remark that seems to do the trick.

TV watching is controlled, magazines are hard to come by, and board games have to be invented from the torn pages of these magazines. Mealtimes promise the only consistent joy - the coffee in Changi Prison is said to be very good.

Meanwhile, visits from loved one are so precious that when the guards call out your number, the other prisoners cheer wholeheartedly for you. Nights can get so lonely, the best singers in Changi Prison volunteer to be the "public radio" by singing as sonorously as they can from their cells.