An innocent death

An innocent death.

Little did Suvichai Nak-iam, 61, know that December 31, 2006 would be his last day as cleaner at the Tiger Shrine in Khlong Toey

Story by KRITTIYA WONGTAVAVIMARN Photo by YINGYONG UN-ANONGRAK

While preparing food to offer the monks at Khlong Toey Nai temple, Srilak Unaiban glanced at the photo of her late husband, who was killed by one of the bombs in Bangkok on New Year's Eve. "It shouldn't have been him," she cries, eyes brimming with tears.

"It shouldn't have been him. It shouldn't," she keeps repeating.

Srilak's 61-year-old husband was one of two victims who breathed their last on December 31, 2006.

Eight bombs exploded across the Thai capital, which caused city authorities to shut down the main venues for the countdown celebrations, including CentralWorld and Sanam Luang. Nearly 40 people, including foreign tourists, were injured and a third bomb victim died on New Year's Day.

So far, no one has claimed responsibility for the bombings.

Srilak's husband, Suvichai Nak-iam, was killed by a bomb splinter that pierced his heart. The same piece of shrapnel also hit her heart, Srilak says, when she heard that there was a bomb explosion at Sarn Chao Pho Seua (Tiger Shrine) in Khlong Toey where her husband worked.

The bomb went off around 6:15pm, the time her husband normally reaches home, she says.

"I felt numb and weak at the knees when my neighbour shouted, 'Come out of the house! Come out of the house! Your husband has been killed!"' recalls Srilak, 48, a food-seller at the Khlong Toey market. "Those howls constantly echo in my head."

For the last six years, Suvichai worked as a cleaner at the shrine. His day started at 3am, helping his wife pack food for sale at the market. At 6am, he arrived at the shrine, cleaned the floor, picked up waste incense sticks and used garlands before heading home for lunch. He returned at 2pm and repeated his morning routine. Every evening, he rested on a bench in front of the shrine before leaving for home at 6pm.

Unfortunately, on the day of the blast, Suvichai probably took a longer break. When the bomb exploded, only 5m away, he was still there, alone on the bench, his favourite resting place.

"I was in a sarong going to wash dishes and clothes. I didn't even know there was a bomb explosion as a neighbouring house was blasting music. It was only when I ran to the shrine and saw my husband lying face-down that I realised it," she recalls. "I pushed myself through the crowd but was blocked by officials. I just wanted to hold him tight but couldn't."

Srilak then jumped into the ambulance where her husband lay, barely conscious. All the way to Chulalongkorn Hospital, she cried, while holding his hand, at the sight of the blood oozing from his chest.

"I was really scared but I tried to tell him he would be all right. He didn't say a word but nodded his head feebly. When we reached the hospital, the doctor administered CPR and blood started gushing out of his open wound all the way to the ICU," she says, eyes, again brimming with tears.

"Around 30 minutes later, my entire body was shaking and my heart sank when the doctor told me that my husband could not be saved. I still couldn't believe it. He's a good, innocent and beloved man. I feel sorry for the loss of his life."

Srilak met Suvichai 15 years ago in 1992, in Bangkok. Along with her first husband and two sons, Srilak had moved from Surin where she worked in a small Thai dessert shop. It was here that she that met Suvichai, who came from Kanchanaburi. At the time, Suvichai was also married and had three children.

"At the beginning, I didn't really like that old, bony man. But he said he loved me and felt sorry for me as I was always been beaten by my husband. He said he wanted to protect me," she says of Suvichai, who later became her irreplaceable companion.

"We realised how much we missed each other when we were apart. When I went back to Surin, he followed me there even though he did not know where I lived. He could not find me and had to return," she says.

They met a second time when Srilak came back to Bangkok and was working in a small factory after breaking up with her husband.

"I thought we wouldn't see each other again. Then, one Sunday he just popped up and we have been together ever since.

"We've had our moments of hardship and struggle, being labourers and ice cream peddlers. Suvichai used to walk under the scorching sun for many kilometres until his shoes wore out, but still earned only 80 baht a day. It was impossible to have enough money to live. Some days, he even ate rotten food just to survive," she says.

All his hard work paid off when Suvichai started work at the Tiger Shrine and they were blessed with a beautiful home, Srilak says. "We finally had enough food to eat. He quit drinking alcohol and I had my own business. Our lives were getting better and we even had money to save," she says.

"The shrine is very sacred. Worshippers, mainly shopkeepers and stall holders at the market, make frequent visits, offering food, incense sticks and flowers to make merit. Most of them get what they ask for."

As the shrine is the centre of the community's religious beliefs and cultural values, it was one of the bomb targets, Srilak assumes. The blast, however, has not stopped people from worshipping.

"Most worshippers still go back to the shrine. They are not afraid of bombs and many of them have told me that they miss Suvichai," she says, adding that her 20-year-old son now takes care of the shrine.

"I've attempted to call my husband's spirit in my dreams to tell me who the culprits behind the bombs are."

Suvichai's daughter, Barer Nak-iam, who visited her father on the day of the incident, says that she now lives in fear.

"I refuse to go to shopping centres, markets or any bus stations. I'm afraid of another bomb blast. It's such a bad feeling," says the 33-year-old.

"On that day, I brought him a lot of egg buns _ his favourite snack. Sadly he had a chance to eat only one. I still don't know who killed my father. I want to tell those perpetrators that I don't want anyone to be victims of violence," she says, wiping away tears from her eyes.

"My father can rest forever. But I don't want any other innocent people to die like him. Daily bombings in our three southernmost provinces are bad enough. There should be no more inhumane acts, no more bombs in Bangkok, in Thailand, or in any other part of the world," she states firmly.

"My plea is, please let my family be the last to suffer from such a loss."

Bangkok Post
Monday January 15, 2007