The Last Straw That Broke Jane: A Case for an Ombudsman System
Jane Lee’s tragic
death brings to the fore the urgent need for a stronger system of social
protection. An ombudsman system could have made a difference by providing a
vital buffer against error, neglect, or abuse. Let her loss galvanise us to act
on what is long overdue: the establishment of an independent ombudsman system
in Singapore.
Note: I was about to publish this reflection piece when the Ministry of Manpower (MOM) gave a media update (as published by the Striats Times on 1 August 2025) stating that the insurance claim referenced here had in fact been
paid out by the insurer. The MOM confirmed that Jane’s business held valid
insurance coverage at the time the alleged fraudulent workplace injury happened.
This is contrary to Jane’s Facebook post, which suggested a lapse in coverage. The question remains – why Jane remained despondent even though her business was covered by valid insurance as required by law. Her distress could have stemmed from other factors such as (1) a matter of “principle” in trying to expose the alleged deception or (2) the frustration of navigating insitutional processes.The MOM also claimed that while no fraud has been found to date,
investigations into the allegations of fraud are ongoing. I look forward to the
release of a full report with clear timelines and details. Now that Jane can no
longer speak for herself, we must not let her story fade into a private tragedy. Her narrative deserves the same level of attention and scrutiny as the official MOM account.
Shockwaves and Questions
The passing of Jane Lee, owner of the salad shop Sumo Well (formerly Sumo Salad), on 19 July 2025, has sent shockwaves through Singapore’s F&B community and the wider public. Many saw her death as a tragic loss. Those who knew her or had interacted with her spoke of a kind and generous spirit, active in community building, an angelic personality. Reading about her in a Facebook (FB) post by Jeffrey Khoo of the Progress Singapore Party, struck an immediate and deep chord in me on a very personal level. I was also immediately aware of the negative repercussions her tragic experiences could potentially have on the public discourse concerning the welfare and credibility of migrant workers.
Jane had sounded the alarm about a foreign worker who allegedly staged an injury and then filed a compensation claim, possibly with legal support. She claimed to have video evidence supporting her allegation that the worker’s accident was staged, as well as information that this was not an isolated accident but a systematic scam targeting small business operators like her.
Jane’s demise is under police investigation and classified as an unnatural death. It will take time for the authorities to determine if her passing was linked to the alleged fraudulent workplace injury claim, which had caused her much distress. It will also take time for the authorities to investigate if there was really fraud as alleged. For the many who read her two Facebook posts, shared just a day before her passing, the contents sounded like a final message, leading to the conclusion that she may have taken her own life, and that it was triggered by the fraudulent claim. Her departure leaves behind urgent questions about how we protect workers and the small businesses that employ them.
Reverberations: This Tragedy Resonated Deeply
In her two Facebook posts, Jane expressed clear signs of deep emotional exhaustion. Her first post detailed what she believed to be a staged workplace accident by a foreign worker two days before her work contract was to end. She suggested that legal professionals were facilitating and even coaching claimants, pointing to systematic fraud that targeted small business owners. She struggled to grasp how someone could act with such calculated deceit for money. Jane also said she had video footage and information to support her allegations.
When Jane wrote that she could not imagine someone acting with such deceit, she revealed profound anguish, due to the shocking treachery she had experienced, which she found difficult to process. The betrayal was all the more palpable because this worker had approached Jane to ask for a job. Jane tagged the Singapore Police Force and the Ministry of Manpower (MOM) in her second post, urging them to investigate her allegations “thoroughly.” The MOM posted a public statement on Facebook three days later stating that they had been communicating with Jane and that they were investigating her allegations of fraud.
Trying to prove this alleged treachery to the authorities may also have taken a heavy toll on Jane. The final paragraph in her first Facebook post addressed to her family and children reads: “I’m truly sorry that I couldn’t find the strength to face this battle on my own.”
Despite the involvement of the MOM, it is both strange and heartbreaking that Jane could no longer wait for a resolution. This has sparked public questions regarding how the MOM had been conducting the investigations. Was Jane truly heard? Did the system treat her concerns with the urgency and seriousness her case deserved?
Food blogger K F Seetoh noted that, according to her family, Jane showed no outward signs of distress in their presence.
While her internal world was collapsing, Jane quietly made her final arrangements, transferring money to her employees as final gestures of appreciation and apology, and giving instructions to her family to retrieve a letter she had written for them. Such clarity in planning is often associated with a strong suicidal resolve. It is a sign of having made peace with the decision to go away. With a mixture of utter despair and iron determination to leave this world, they no longer see any way forward in this world. Jane’s thoughtfulness towards her employees, even in her darkest hour of despair, only deepens the tragedy.
What I see in Jane’s final Facebook posts is not just frustration, but the deep exhaustion that takes hold of you when your efforts to put things right just aren’t working. No matter how tirelessly you fight, your persistence is seen as a nuisance, as an inconvenience to others. Did Jane have to navigate a maze of bureaucracy, only to be stalled at every turn? How did Jane feel when she saw the worker she believed had exploited her walk away with a successful claim, despite the evidence she had worked hard to gather and compile for MOM’s review.
Jane raised the alarm that other “unsuspecting” small businesses would continue to be targeted: “I fear that I will not be the last victim, and these individuals may continue to exploit other unsuspecting small businesses in similar ways.” She points to a specific kind of vulnerability, of “unsuspectingly” getting drawn into a situation under false pretenses, and being left exposed and defenceless. The sheer weight of calculated deceit, and what appears to be the lack of social protection, can break even the strongest among us.
Jane’s pain resonates with me in a way that is both personal and painfully familiar. I have carried the weight of a long and isolating struggle in the Lily Kong perjury scandal. Years ago, I blew the whistle on academic misconduct by my then supervisor and faced institutional retaliation orchestrated by Lily Kong, who was then the Vice-Provost of the National University of Singapore.
My fight for justice and accountability eventually reached the courts. At a court trial which was meant to deliberate on Lily Kong’s abuse of power, Lily Kong lied to the court while she was under oath to tell the truth, thereby committing the serious crime of perjury, which carries a mandatory prison sentence. I submitted the documentary evidence of Lily Kong’s perjury to the Supreme Court of Singapore, which refused to adjudicate my perjury allegations, citing legal technicalities. The use of legal technicalities as reasons to sidestep considering the evidence of Lily Kong’s perjury is profoundly distressing and a contradiction of the court’s raison d’être to uphold truth and justice.
When I filed a Magistrate’s Complaint against Lily Kong for her perjury, the Attorney-General blocked the Magistrate’s Compliant.* Both former Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong and current Prime Minister Lawrence Wong have repeatedly ignored my written complaints about Lily Kong’s perjury and impunity, while they have permitted Lily Kong to get away scot-free, with total impunity, as though she is “above the law” in Singapore.
*Please note that the hyperlink above may not work when accessed from Singapore Facebook due to the government blockade of The Online Citizen website. Copy and paste the url below into your browser to access the hyperlinked article:
Lily Kong’s abuse of power and retaliation against me, together with her perjury (which evidently deceived the trial judge), have caused me to suffer great hardship. It is reasonable to believe that Lily Kong’s perjury deceived the trial judge, because the judge failed to take any action against Lily Kong for her perjury. Surely, no Singapore judge would knowingly permit a perjurer to get away with perjury.
If the Court would consider the evidence of Lily Kong’s perjury, it would not only put my court case against NUS into an entirely different light, but it would also mean that the Court would have to recognise that Lily Kong has committed a criminal act punishable by mandatory imprisonment. While Lily Kong’s lies to the Court are allowed to go unscrutinised and unpunished, despite my repeated applications to the Court and my written requests to the authorities to take action, the Court approved NUS’s application for a bankruptcy order against me due to my inability to pay the costs order in NUS’s court victory – a shameful and unjust victory that was tainted by Lily Kong’s perjury and deceit, and abetted by NUS’s dishonest lawyers, who repeatedly lied to the Court. My strenuous attempts to get the Court to hear me regarding Lily Kong’s perjury were blocked in one way or another, as the Supreme Court repeatedly sidestepped the issue of Lily Kong’s perjury, even though this is a serious crime that also constitutes utter contempt for the Court and the rule of law, and attracts a mandatory jail sentence if proven.
Today, Lily Kong holds one of the highest academic offices in Singapore as the President of Singapore Management University. She also holds national honours such as the Bintang Bakti Masyarakat (BBM) medal, an appointment to the Public Service Commission and an appointment as a Justice of the Peace.
Like Jane, I documented my claims, submitted evidence, and went through the proper channels. Jane had urged the MOM to investigate her case “thoroughly.”
Like Jane, I know the fatigue of fighting to be heard, and the loneliness of standing up for what is right while being treated as the problem. I know the deep despair that slowly ferments and engulfs oneself.
Too often, the perpetrators thrive on their stolen victories, while the victims are left gasping for air.
In his “To be or not to be” soliloquy, William Shakespeare's Prince Hamlet gives voice to the many cruelties that can wear down the human spirit, asking: “who would bear the whips and scorns of time, / Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, / … the law’s delay, / The insolence of office, and the spurns / That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes, / When he himself might his quietus make …”
Jane had tried to hold on by speaking up and sounding the alarm. But in the end, it may have felt to her, as it did to Hamlet, that all was in vain. Her “quietus,” to borrow Hamlet’s expression, came from the relentless erosion of hope and strength.
I suffered the emotional toll of being gaslit by processes that claim to be “fair” and “final” when they were not, and I wonder if Jane’s deep despair was also due to similar experiences.
Over time, it is not just the treachery that wears you down, but the indifference of systems and processes that claim to protect integrity and fairness. What eats away at you is not only the wrongdoing itself, but the dark and impenetrable void where accountability should be.
Jane’s passing – and it appears, tragically, to be suicide – is also profoundly distressing to me as a Catholic seeing a fellow Catholic take her own life. In the Christian tradition, we recognise that life is sacred from conception to natural death. We are called to protect the unborn, to oppose the use of the death penalty, and to honour the dignity of every human life. The act of taking one’s own life stands in painful incongruity to these teachings. While Christians may experience moments of deep sadness, doubt, or even suicidal thoughts, true despair, expressed through the act of taking one’s own life, reflects a complete loss of hope in divine providence to redeem and to restore.
Even for those who do not subscribe to a religious faith, the depth of the despondency and isolation that leads a person to such a final and irreversible act should give us all pause.
The Face of Exploitation
Upon reading the news about Jane, I had a feeling that her plight would provoke public outrage. Some of that anger is now being directed at the alleged perpetrator, who is a migrant worker. I worry that this could lead to a broader backlash that undermines the credibility of migrant workers as a whole. This is an issue dear to my heart as I have interacted with abused and injured workers over the years. The most unforgettable workplace injury victim was a worker who fell six stories inside an unfinished building. He survived but was profoundly traumatised. I recall seeing his swollen limbs. Stitches held down bulges of broken bones and sinews together with metal inserts. They looked like a bulging bak chang held together tightly by the dumpling strings, except that the strings were surgical stitches sewn into human skin.
Migrant workers take on some of the most dangerous and invisible labour in Singapore, on construction sites, in shipyards, and behind the closed doors of private homes. They are often exposed to hazardous conditions, financial precarity, and employer abuse. Many workplace injuries in Singapore are the result of genuine safety lapses, and many employers are rightly held accountable under the law. Legislation like the Work Injury Compensation Act (WICA) exists to protect them and ensure accountability when injuries occur.
We often speak of migrant workers as vulnerable, and rightly so, given the dangers and uncertainties they are exposed to. However, Jane’s case brings into sharp focus the shared vulnerability embedded in employment relationships. Exploitation can go both ways. Greedy and dishonest people take advantage of vulnerable victims, be it an employer exploiting a worker, or a worker (possibly aided by others) exploiting an employer’s blind spots. If we are serious about upholding the dignity of work, we must confront abuse in all its forms and ensure that systems of redress operate with consistency, fairness, and compassion for all parties involved, to prevent turning the very safeguards meant to uphold justice into tools of opportunism.
Jane’s case also brings to the fore the pressures that small business owners face, and how these pressures can leave them exposed to serious risks. This tragedy has sparked wider discussions about challenges faced by small business owners in Singapore. Small business owners in sectors like food and retail, often operate under narrow profit margins, minimal HR support, and limited legal literacy, thus making them susceptible to systemic or legalistic blind spots. Most business operators are hands-on, personally involved in operations, emotionally invested and at times grappling with cash flow problems.
Food blogger K F Seetoh has highlighted the challenges faced by hawkers in Singapore. Some of the same stressors are echoed by small F&B operators like Jane. Whether it is a hawker in a food centre or kopi tiam, or a small food business operator like Jane, the system is often structured in ways that concentrate risk on the smallest players. Despite the fact that the country has moved on from the pandemic, many in the F&B sector are still reeling from the economic aftershocks of COVID-19, including unsustainable hikes in rent, supplies, and utilities, along with chronic staffing shortages. These operators also face demanding terms from large commercial landlords, especially when it is time for them to renew their leases. And all this while, they are expected to keep the doors of their businesses open, keep the staff paid, and keep the customers served. In such an environment, the burden of defending oneself against a legal or insurance claim, especially a false claim, is not only time-consuming and financially taxing, but can also be psychologically destabilising.
Social Protection
Jane’s Facebook post reveals an employer devastated by what she believed to be an attempt to exploit her business. She wrote: “I feel extremely unfortunate to have encountered this situation. I am deeply saddened—for myself, my husband, and our dedicated staff—that because of an unfortunate gap in our insurance coverage, we are now being targeted by what I believe to be a fraudulent scheme.”
One reading of her post suggests that this very gap made her vulnerable to the alleged fraudulent claim. More details will likely emerge over time about the case. In her FB post, Jane described what she believed to be a coordinated scheme involving the worker, the worker’s husband, and possibly a legal firm that coached individuals on how to exploit workplace injury claims. She alleged that such schemes operate by identifying businesses without proper insurance coverage to extort money from them, or, if insurance is present, by exaggerating or faking injuries to secure higher payouts.
The Work Injury Compensation Act (WICA) mandates that employers obtain insurance coverage for work-related injuries for manual workers and lower-wage employees. In the fast-paced and high-cost F&B sector cash flow can be unpredictable. Insurance coverage, although necessary, may be inadvertently delayed or allowed to lapse during financial crunches. This gap may be temporary but it exposes a business to tremendous risk, both legally and financially.
“I'm truly sorry that I couldn’t find the strength to face this battle on my own.” This single line from Jane’s final message left many bewildered. How could someone so socially engaged, closely bonded with her family, and beloved by friends (just read the outpourings of grief on social media from those who had interacted with her before), come to such an end?
Many members of the public have attributed the tragedy to Jane’s mental health. However, there may be a gap in social protection that could otherwise have prevented the tragedy. Jane’s case raises serious questions about whether existing systems provide adequate protection for employers who act in good faith but find themselves caught in technicalities or loopholes.
The concept of social protection, often reserved for workers, is equally critical for small business owners.
We do not yet know the full circumstances of Jane’s passing. We probably never will. But what is clear is that she departed in anguish, feeling isolated. Her case raises questions about how her communications with the authorities were handled.
· What was the MOM’s process in handling Jane’s complaint?
· How easy or difficult was it to navigate bureaucratic complexity?
· What did officials who viewed the video footage have to say?
· Was Jane’s version of events taken seriously enough?
· Did the authorities promptly respond to Jane’s communications?
· Did the authorities respond to Jane in an efficient manner?
· Did the authorities keep Jane updated about the progress of their investigation?
Wouldn’t it serve the public interest for the MOM to release the video footage? If the worker was wrongly accused, it would help to clear her name.
If someone as articulate and persistent as Jane felt shut out by the system, what does that say about the responsiveness of our institutions, especially toward those without power or connections?
The Case for an Ombudsman System in Singapore
In Singapore, administrative complaint mechanisms mainly operate within ministries and agencies. While these systems may appear efficient on paper, they are often opaque and difficult to navigate in practice, especially for individuals without legal know-how or legal representation, institutional familiarity, or political leverage. The reasoning behind decisions is rarely transparent, and when outcomes seem unfair or arbitrary, there is often no independent authority to turn to.
I experienced this firsthand. The Attorney-General blocked my Magistrate’s Complaint and refused to give me reasons why he had denied permission for me to pursue the Magistrate’s Complaint regarding Lily Kong’s perjury. Refer to this article:
Did Jane encounter some form of adminsitrative resistence? If Jane had disputed the workplace injury claim, and the MOM had reached a conclusion that appeared one-sided or dismissive to her, what avenue of appeal would she have had? What independent oversight exists to scrutinise how the MOM handles such cases? A life has been lost. The MOM still owes the public a full and transparent account of how Jane’s claim was handled.
Jane’s case highlights gaps in the current landscape of social protection. True protection includes more than legal frameworks and mental health services. It requires timely institutional responses, clear administrative processes, safeguards against exploitation or abuse of protective systems, access to a fair system of recourse, and protection against bureaucratic indifference. True protection requires not only rules, but systems to evaluate how those rules are applied, i.e., a system that monitors the gatekeepers.
One structural reform worth serious consideration is the establishment of an ombudsman system. While typically initiated by the government, a properly-constituted ombudsman system operates independently, free from ministerial control. Its core mandate is to investigate complaints made by citizens against public authorities, providing impartial and independent oversight of actions and decisions taken by government ministries and public institutions. Crucially, it functions outside the internal ministerial complaint channels it monitors, which is an essential safeguard when power imbalances or bureaucratic inertia result in individuals being ignored or improperly heard. The ombudsman system therefore reinforces institutional accountability.
A mature government acknowledges that even well-intentioned institutions can make mistakes. An ombudsman system offers a framework of checks and balances, strengthening good governance. In countries like the Philippines, Indonesia, and Thailand, national ombudsman offices already serve as independent watchdogs over public institutions, guarding against abuse of power, delays, and administrative failure. Singapore lacks such a mechanism.
A comprehensive ombudsman office can address a wide spectrum of interests – from safeguarding political integrity to ensuring fair treatment of consumers, employees, students, whistleblowers, hospital patients, and retail investors. Such an office would not only serve as a check against misuse of authority but would offer an impartial platform for resolving complaints, investigating bad public administrative decisions, and recommending corrective actions. The ombudsman system can reinforce trust in public institutions and give citizens a fairer chance to be heard, without needing legal expertise or political connections.
The idea of establishing an independent Ombudsman Office in Singapore has surfaced over the years, arising from a shared concern about the lack of accessible, impartial avenues for redress and oversight. These proposals reflect the growing recognition that current complaint mechanisms, typically housed within the very institutions being complained against, often lack independence and transparency.
Former Member of Parliament Leon Perera notably called for such an office to provide independent checks on senior cabinet ministers in 2022, particularly in safeguarding against foreign interference and protecting the integrity of political institutions. Around the same time, the Society of Remisiers (SOR) advocated for the appointment of an ombudsman to help retail investors, many of whom are ordinary Singaporeans, recover financial losses stemming from corporate fraud or regulatory lapses. The high-profile collapse of Hyflux remains a potent reminder of how vulnerable individuals are, in the face of complex financial misconduct and weak accountability mechanisms.
An ombudsman system would also reduce the burden on individuals by resolving disputes before they escalate into lawsuits. The high cost of justice has been acknowledged by Chief Justice Sundaresh Menon, who has remarked that: “the cost of legal services in Singapore must now be acknowledged as being on the high side” and His Honour also noted that: “It is cold comfort to those who seek justice to say that we have a great legal system, if it is priced out of their reach.”
(Source: “Opening Address of the Honourable the Chief Justice at the Litigation Conference 2013” Organised by the Civil Practice Committee of the Law Society of Singapore, 31 January 2013.)
Jane’s case, which tragically ended in a life lost, compels me to ask: “What if an ombudsman system had been in place?” Jane would not have had to face her battle alone. She would have had an independent avenue to turn to – someone to hear her out and review the evidence. That impartial assessment and the assurance of being heard might have made a crucial difference.
Of course, someone is bound to ask: “Oh, who is going to check on the obudsman?” We return to the foundational principle of checks and balances. The ombudsman system exists precisely to counterbalance institutional overreach. This mechanism is not something novel, it is well-established in many countries, designed to hold those in positions of authority accountable. However, I would suggest that the best answer to the question lies in the the protection of free speech, freedom of assembly (which includes the freedom to form civil society organisations), and multiple institutions all watching each other all the time, with power decentralised and “spread out” among different governmental and non-governmental institutions, in a system of effective checks and balances, including an independent media, real opposition parties, a robust civil society, laws to protect whistleblowers, a Freedom of Information Act or equivalent, and an Ombudsman Office of course, to ensure that the government stays transparent and open to the public.
If we truly value fairness and dignity in public administration, then establishing a mechanism like an ombudsman system would be an important first step. If Singapore aspires to maintain credibility in its public institutions, establishing an ombudsman system is not just a logical step, but a moral obligation. Other ASEAN nations with fewer resources have made this commitment. Singapore, with its advanced infrastructure and claim to strong public service ethos, has no excuse not to.
