The world today observes the World Day Against the Death Penalty, a day to reflect on the sanctity of life, justice, and the growing call for abolition. But for one Malaysian family, the occasion has taken on a deeply personal meaning.
It falls on the day of P. Pannir Selvam’s funeral, the 38-year-old Malaysian executed in Singapore on October 8 for drug trafficking. For his family, the coincidence is both heartbreaking and symbolic.
“It gives us a rare and meaningful opportunity to turn grief into a message of hope, justice, and reform,” his sister, P. Angelia, told Radio Veritas Asia. “I pray that my brother’s death will not be in vain. Let it awaken the world to the pain caused by the death penalty, not only to those executed but to every mother, father, and sibling left behind.”
Angelia’s words capture the anguish of a long and painful battle that stretched over eight years, a battle to save her brother’s life and to bring compassion into Singapore’s rigid anti-drug system.
‘The Little Drummer Boy’ Who Never Lost His Faith
To his church community in Ipoh, Pannir was affectionately known as “The Little Drummer Boy”, a nickname inspired by his favourite Christmas song. From his teenage years, he played drums in the small evangelical church where his father, a local pastor, led the congregation.
“He loved that song because it spoke about giving what little you have to honour something greater,” Angelia recalled. “That was my brother, humble, kind, and always willing to serve.”
Even on death row, Pannir Selvam’s faith and music remained his refuge. He wrote the lyrics to two songs from his cell, both with themes of mercy, hope, and redemption. The songs were later performed by Malaysian artists and shared widely among church communities, inspiring many who followed his case.
“Music became his prayer,” said Angelia. “It kept him alive inside when everything around him was dying.”
The Final Hours
On October 7, just hours before his execution, Pannir Selvam’s family received confirmation that his final appeal for a stay had been rejected. Amnesty International Malaysia’s campaigner, Qistina Johari, announced the heartbreaking news outside the Singapore High Commission in Kuala Lumpur, where activists and friends gathered for a candlelight vigil.
“We just heard five minutes ago that his appeal for the stay was rejected,” she told reporters. “That means the execution will go on tomorrow.”
The news sent shockwaves through Malaysia’s human rights circles. Many had hoped Singapore would halt the execution, given the information Pannir Selvam had provided to Malaysian police on a cross-border drug network.
In a rare move, Malaysia’s police had interviewed him at Changi Prison on September 27, but Malaysia’s Deputy Home Minister Shamsul Anuar Nasarah later said the information “had no operational value.”
Human rights lawyer N. Surendren, who represents the family, said they would challenge the government’s inaction. “Pannir Selvam’s family has instructed us to commence legal action against the authorities for failing to pursue further investigations,” he said.
Faith Amid Fear
For Angelia, the struggle was an emotional roller coaster as it was spiritual. My family is traumatised, facing this again and again,” she said. “Every time the date is fixed, we live through the same nightmare, not knowing if it will be his last day.”
She recalled how her family endured sleepless nights since 2019, when Pannir Selvam’s first execution was stayed at the last minute. “We clung to hope each time, only for it to crumble again. But even in prison, he told me not to be angry. He said, ‘God knows what He’s doing. If my death can open hearts, then it is not wasted.’”
Those words, she said, now echo with painful clarity.
A System Under Scrutiny
Singapore enforces some of the world’s harshest anti-drug laws, with the mandatory death penalty applied for trafficking more than 15 grams of heroin. Pannir Selvam was convicted of smuggling 51.84 grams of diamorphine through the Woodlands checkpoint in 2014, a charge that left little room for judicial discretion.
Despite pleas for clemency from Malaysian officials and international groups, Singapore has consistently defended its drug policy as a deterrent. The city-state executed another Malaysian, K. Datchinamurthy, just two weeks ago. Datchinamurthy, who had converted to Catholicism in prison, was buried in the Catholic cemetery in Ulu Tiram, Johor, on September 27.
“Singapore’s laws may be tough, but they are not merciful,” said a regional rights advocate. “Cases like Pannir Selvam’s reveal a justice system that values deterrence over redemption.”
A Call to Conscience
The World Day Against the Death Penalty, marked annually on October 10, was first established in 2003 to rally global support for abolition. This year’s theme focuses on the death penalty and the living conditions of those sentenced to death, drawing attention to the psychological torment endured by inmates and their families.
For Angelia and her family, that torment is no longer theoretical. It has a face, her brother’s.
“The death penalty doesn’t just take one life. It kills hope, it punishes families, and it silences the possibility of change. My brother cooperated with the authorities, he repented, he prayed every day, but still, there was no mercy.
“We are not asking for criminals to go free. We are asking for justice that restores, not justice that destroys.”
Turning Mourning into Mission
As hymns filled the church hall today, Angelia said she would continue her brother’s fight, not with anger, but with advocacy.
“Pannir Selvam wanted his story to touch lives,” she said. “He told me, ‘If I go, speak for me. Tell them that even those who make mistakes deserve a second chance.’”
Among those who knew him, many still remember “The Little Drummer Boy” as his favourite song, a tune he played countless times during Christmas services, and one that now carries deeper meaning.
The lyrics, “I played my best for Him,” have come to symbolise the faith and quiet courage he held until the end.
“He played his best,” Angelia said. “Now it’s time for us to carry the beat, the beat for mercy, justice, and hope.”
As Malaysia joined the world today, in observing World Day Against the Death Penalty, one family’s grief became a quiet yet powerful anthem, a plea that the rhythm of compassion must one day drown out the drumbeat of death.
Singapore did not kill a drug trafficker. It killed a drummer and a poet.
