this is my money

This Is My Money

Most people think that money is important, and I try to conform. I tell everyone that I like

money.

So the day that I found a bag of notes inside a large brown envelope lying at the far end

of the Wisma Atria MRT station, I naturally picked it up and hid it inside my other, larger

Dexter bag. First, I pretended that I was bringing the envelope to the control station to

report the loss, then as I got closer I saw that there was a queue at the counter. So I

lugged the bag over the exit barrier and walked away, telling myself that the envelope

belonged to me. Luckily, no one stopped me.

When I arrived at Chomel, a shop that sells costume jewelry and cheap clothes, I bought

a cheap carrier bag large enough to stuff the brown envelope in. I couldn’t zip up the

Dexter bag as the brown envelope was protruding out. Then, after I had paid for the new

carrier bag, I cut the label off and put the brown envelope in, careful to zip up my Dexter

bag so that the contents were no longer exposed. Once I had done this, I was satisfied that

the owner would no longer be able to find his lost goods, even if he was looking.

I didn't know how much money was inside, but I was quite happy about the discovery.

The brown envelope was large and full of notes, so it must have been quite a sizable

amount. I was just too happy about the windfall and had no time to think if it was stolen

money or what. I told myself, in any case, it was finders keepers.

The next thing I needed to do was to count the money. To do this, I needed to bring the

bag to a safe place, somewhere where no one would see. All I could think of was where

to keep the money after I had ascertained the amount. I maintained a savings and current

account with the DBS bank. I also had another account with the UOB bank. My month-

end average balance with the DBS bank had usually been more than two hundred dollars,

and the UOB bank account never went beyond three hundred. So if I put in a large sum of

money with either of these two banks, an alarm might be raised. I thought about it and

decided that it would be wiser if I opened another account with a third bank, someone

who did not know of my financial status.

Story by Lee Su Min 1

This Is My Money

At that time I was walking towards Takashimaya, and I came across the OCBC bank. I

had never opened an account with the bank, so I was sure that they knew nothing about

me. I was only a salaried employee with the Singapore Times. As a journalist for the

newspaper I earned about one thousand and five hundred dollars a month, and I got about

a one-month bonus at the end of the year. I had very little savings and no investments.

But there was something I wanted to buy badly. A Tiffany’s watch. The watch cost

$3,500. It was not expensive by the rich man’s standards, but it was a lot of money for

me. I had been eyeing this watch for some time. I was in love with the watch, but not

with the price. I told myself to save up money for it, which was why I had been so thrifty

lately. I had taken to eating at hawker centers and taking buses even when it rained. My

balance was at $800. I still had a long way to go.

I was very stressed. With so much money in my bag, if a policeman confronted me at any

time, I would have no explanation. I could be mistaken for a bank robber, or a thief. So,

on the spur of the moment, I decided to walk into the OCBC bank and deposit the cash.

I walked into OCBC and dropped the Dexter bag in front of the girl at the front counter.

She told me I had to queue up for the service counters. It wasn’t very long, and I waited

for a while. Then, as I arrived at the head of the queue, I became more anxious. When I

stood in front of the bank cashier, I was considerably stressed. First, I unzipped the

Dexter bag, then I zipped it up again as I forgot that it was no longer in that bag. Thank

God the new carrier was still with me, as I was lugging it around with me somewhat

carelessly. I took the brown envelope out from the carrier, and then I unloaded all the

notes right in front of the bank staff. The bank cashier at the counter saw the amount and

was quite reluctant to touch the money at first, then after I said, “I just withdrew it from

the UOB bank,” she decided to touch the notes and put them over to her side of the

counter. She waited a while before she started to count them. They were loose pieces and

not neatly arranged. I looked at her as she proceeded to start counting. Only then did I see

that they were hundred dollar bills. I still had no idea how much money there was.


This Is My Money

I waited patiently. When she had finished, she wrote the total amount on a piece of

notepaper. “84 x $100, 5 x $10, 3 x $2 = $8,456.” She told me to wait before she walked

away to the back, presumably to check with her superior. I stood alone at the counter in

silence, oblivious to the other people around me, some of whom I was sure were

watching me, wondering why I had so much money.

Having a lot of money is not unusual. It is only unusual when it is displayed in bulk in

cash form. I knew that I couldn’t explain the source, for if I did it would expose the fact

that I had stolen it from someone. My conscience told me that I should have left it at the

MRT station, and that when I found it I should have brought it to the control station to

report to the station staff. But then I was poor. I had very little savings to get by, and I

really wanted the Tiffany’s watch. So I stood at the counter trying to prepare for an

answer should the bank staff come back and ask me where the money came from. I knew

that, as a matter of fact, banks are supposed to take deposits and not query. When you

open an account with a bank you are not obliged to give the source.

I waited for ten minutes, and then when the bank staff did not come back, I started to get

impatient. I wanted to bring the notes to the next counter but then would have to queue up

from the last person again. Since I was already attended to, I might as well wait. I looked

at my watch: 3:28 p.m. The bank was closing in just two minutes’ time. I stood and

waited like a fool. I noticed that the security officer was watching me. I was not afraid of

being watched. I did not steal the money. I merely found it. It was lying around, and even

if I had not taken it, I could not guarantee that the next person would report it. So I was

clear.

Throughout, I did not realize one thing: that the money didn’t belong to me. It would not

be mine until I banked it in. But the bank staff seemed particularly uncooperative. What

could I do now? Shout for the bank teller? I couldn’t because I was in a public place. I

shouldn’t because she was not my staff. I was only a customer of her employers the bank.

Should I make a complaint to the bank? I thought about it, and then, as another bank


This Is My Money

teller signaled that it was closing time, I realized that it was a message for me to leave the

premises. But I couldn’t walk away unless I took the notes with me. It was a surprise gift

from heaven. I had owned it until now and was about to be declared the legal owner. It

was just that the bank refused to cooperate with me.

I was very frustrated, and my frustration was showing on my face. I started to pack the

notes back into the brown envelope and then into my Dexter bag, which was better in the

new carrier bag, as it was too much for the Dexter bag. The brown envelope was

crumbled and slightly torn, and the notes were spilling out from the envelope. As I was

packing up in a hurry, some pieces were falling onto the floor. I bent down to pick them

up, and at the same time worried that someone might just take those on the counter whilst

I was down there. So I was becoming quite a sight. I got the feeling that everyone was

watching me, and I was becoming more worried. I told myself to get composed.

Just at that time I noticed a pair of brown leather Ferragamo shoes. I had been wanting to

buy a pair just like them, but they were much too expensive at $620. This was the latest

design and many people are already wearing it. It was between the Tiffany’s watch and

this pair of shoes.

In the end I managed to put everything back into the new carrier bag. After I had zipped

it up, I walked out of the bank calmly. But then it was too late. My windfall had been

noticed by the bank guard and now also those other bank customers. I decided to go

straight home with the bag of cash. Immediately, I walked straight to the taxi stand. The

nearest one was at the Wisma Atria. The queue was not long, so I waited there. I decided

not to call for a taxi, as now I didn’t want my movements to be traced. The police might

be after me. At the bank, they had no opportunity to ask me where the money came from.

Now they might just stop me and question me. Before any police confronted me, I needed

to get home.

If I had booked a taxi, they would know my location with the taxi number. And from

there they could trace where I lived. Finally, my turn came. The taxi man wound down


This Is My Money

the window and asked me where I wanted to go. I was afraid of disclosing my home

address, so I merely said, “The north.” The guy was not satisfied, and so he quickly just

drove off. I was getting more and more nervous, so I decided to go to the newsstand to

get myself some sweets. At the same time I was wondering if I should take the bus. If I

boarded the bus I would be able to drop at my destination without it being disclosed.

So I walked towards the bus stop. No one was watching me. I did not encounter the

authorities. The money was still safe with me. I was still in possession of it, but I was

considerably stressed. I was perspiring, and it was not a good sign. When I came to the

bus stop, I saw Annabel. Annabel was my classmate in the secondary school, and I kept

in touch with her every now and then. She had been to my house once or twice, and I to

hers. I had no choice but to greet her. “Where are you off to?” she asked.

“Oh, nowhere.” I didn’t want to tell her that I was going home.

“Do you want to come to my house?” Annabel asked.

“Err, I am not free today,” I said.

“But you just said you were going nowhere?!”

Annabel knew me too well. She knew that I was not used to telling lies and that if I said I

was going nowhere that meant that I had nothing to do. I knew that I was stuck. If I

declined Annabel’s invitation, I had to give her my intended destination, which would

have been a false one. And I would have to pick a place fast, before my bus arrived.

Otherwise Annabel would hop onto the same bus with me and follow me home. I would

have to think of what to do with the money only after she had left my house. But then

having her around would ensure a bodyguard for myself during the journey on the bus

from Wisma to Farrer. So I said, “Why don’t you let me go home and change into

something nice before we go out for dinner at the Maximum Cafe?” The Maximum Cafe

was a place where she and I often went.


This Is My Money

Annabel was enthusiastic. During the journey I decided that I could not take the stress

any longer, as I was too overwhelmed by the windfall. I had to confess to Annabel. So the

moment I stepped into my house, as I was locking the door, I told her to sit down by the

sofa, which was just in front of the LCD television. I was just about to tell her when she

turned on the television herself. They were showing some American singers vying for

votes. It turned out she had something to tell me.

“Jacob is seeing someone.”

“Oh, dear. You saw them together? Someone else told you?” I was shocked, as Jacob has

shown himself to be a loving husband throughout.

“No, his neighbor told me about it.”

“And you trust the testimony of this neighbor?” I asked. “If I were you, this is only

hearsay.”

Annabel paused for a while and then asked for a glass of water.

I only had orange juice in the fridge, apart from some coffee powder. It was the Florida

Orange in packet form. There were still two packed in the fridge, so I could afford to be

generous. I picked a large crystal glass from the kitchen cabinet, poured out a full glass,

and added some ice. I brought it out to the living room, passed her the glass, and said,

“Hope it is not too sweet for you.” I liked the Florida Orange because of its sweetness.

Annabel took a sip and continued, “It happened after we came back from the cruise.”

“Oh, okay, you went on a cruise together. You had a row on the cruise.”

“Not exactly. They met on the cruise.”


This Is My Money

“Okay, I get the picture now. You know who she is.” I tried to find out as much as

possible as I sensed that Annabel needed my advice. I had a similar situation before when

Michael was seeing another woman. Michael and I are now back together again.

As I thought about Annabel’s problem, I went into the bathroom. I didn't know what

Annabel was doing outside, but I knew that I must get her out of the way soon, maybe

immediately after dinner. She wouldn’t leave my house now, as I had promised her

dinner. I wanted to take the money out from the bag and lock it up in my drawer, but it

would be odd if I did that right in front of her.

When I stepped out of the bathroom I saw that Annabel was making herself comfortable.

The bag of money was still lying on the sofa. It was safe there. “Let’s go for dinner, I am

famished,” Annabel yelled.

I picked up my Dexter bag and said, “Hey, let me change my bag first, I can’t go into the

restaurant with this bag.”

Annabel was still thinking of her situation with Jacob. “What do you think I should do?”

she asked. I opened the door to my private lift lobby to pick my shoes for the outing. And

then I saw the Ferragamo shoes again, though I didn’t remember buying them. And then I

heard Kaiser’s bark. Annabel got to the lift and was holding it open for me.

“Wow! Wow!”

“Shut up!” immediately came the reply of my neighbor. Kaiser barked at me whenever I

entered the house, the moment he heard me at my lift lobby, usually the minute I slipped

my key into the keyhole. And then she would say, “Shut up!” “Shut up!” as though

talking to me directly. It would have been different if she had said, “Kaiser, shut up!” In

fact, I wanted to tell her to shut up instead. Then I removed my key from the main door


This Is My Money

and stuffed the key pouch inside my bag. I walked straight into the lift where Annabel

was waiting.

Once we arrived at the first floor we walked past the pavilion to the pebbled path passing

by the neighbors who lived on the ground floor. Mr. Yeo, who lived in unit 01-03, was

having his leisurely dinner with his newspapers. I was wondering if he could still read the

print under the dim balcony light. Then Annabel asked me, “Shall I ask for a divorce?”

“Obviously not,” I said. “Your children are still young.” Actually, I was no expert in this

matter, as I myself never had children. I continued to walk until I reached the side gate,

and I let both of us out of the estate. Then we took the long walk along Farrer Green

Lane, where, if we were lucky, we would be able to catch a taxi. But we had no such luck

tonight and had to walk down the slope to reach the main road. I could see that some of

the shops had prepared themselves for diners. Their decorative lamps were visible from

inside the restaurants.

Dinner was quick, as Annabel was in no mood to eat. She was silent throughout,

engrossed in her own thoughts, whereas I was eager to get home to see to the bag of

money. When dinner ended, we parted on cheerful terms. I promised her that I would be

in touch if she needed any help or counseling. I told her I knew of one psychotherapist

who worked in Camden. After that, I almost wanted to take a taxi home. I wanted to

hurry home as quickly as possible to look at my bag. By now I realized that with the

windfall I could well afford the Tiffany’s watch. I walked as fast as I could, and when I

reached my estate I almost bumped into one of the neighbors with her German Shepard.

She gave me a glare as though saying, “Watch where you are going.”

I quickly said sorry and continued to walk to my apartment. As I arrived at the lift it was

already waiting at the first floor, so I didn’t have to waste any more time. I swiped my

access key card and the lift took me to the fourth level. It opened, and I realized that I had

forgotten to switch on the light at the lobby area. My lift opens to my little lobby, where


This Is My Money

only I have access. I slid my key into the keyhole, and surprisingly, I could push open the

front door even before I turned the key. The door was not locked!

Was there someone inside? I turned on the lights located just by the side of the wall as I

entered, and then realized that I had forgotten to turn off the TV. The volume was low

and I could only see the screen showing the local drama. Annabel’s glass of juice was

still sitting on the side table. Automatically, I walked to the carrier bag and tried to take

out the brown envelope. What! There was no money inside! All the notes were gone! I

dug deep inside the bag again. This time I almost tore the entire bag. But there was no

brown envelope, and the bag was empty. How could this have been?

My heart was pounding. I panicked. Where could the money have gone? I was in the

house with Annabel all the while! Could she have taken it whilst I was having my

shower? If she did, she showed no sign of it. And how could she know that there was

money inside the bag? There was no reason for her to unzip my bag to look into it.

Besides, I was only in the shower for a few minutes. What should I do now? Shall I call

Annabel and confront her? To do that, I needed to be absolutely sure that she had my

money. However, I must be careful how to phrase it. I can’t accuse her of stealing my

money, for the money wasn’t mine in the first place. But, come to think of it, I had

carried the money so far, from the Wisma Atria MRT station to my house at Park Lodge.

It should have been mine already. Between the two of us, I was the more legitimate

owner.

My mind was arguing with itself on whether I should call Annabel and ask her about it.

However, I was really not sure if she had taken it. And then, as I came in, the door was

unlocked, so someone could have come in during the time we went out for dinner and

took the money. But then the chances of anyone knowing about the cash and following

me home were almost nil. Since we came back by bus and no one knew that there was

money at home, who would come in? Security was very tight there. Nobody came into

my lobby area except the security guards, and only if I lost the lift access card and needed

them to bring me up. But even if it was the security guard, he didn’t have my door key,


This Is My Money

either. So was it I who left the door unlocked? Yes, Kaiser was barking loudly just now

and the neighbor was shouting, and with Annabel waiting for me inside the lift, I was in a

hurry to leave the house. Perhaps I didn’t lock the door. All this was quite careless and

could have been avoided.

There was nothing I could do. I could never report the loss to the police. The money was

stolen money. The money was not mine now. I only owned it from the Wisma Atria MRT

station to my house. I was sad and disappointed.

Three days later I saw a notice on the condominium board. I usually took a look at the

pin-ups whenever I was waiting for my lift to arrive, as it was prominently located on the

wall just in front of the lift. “Notice: A sum of Eight Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty-

Six Dollars was found in a brown envelope along the pathway outside the unit of 01-03.

Will the rightful owner please claim the money before 10 March 2015? Otherwise the

entire amount will go to the sinking fund, as it was found within the condominium

premises.” My heart jumped, missing a beat. This is my money. This meant that I had lost

it whilst I was carrying it back home from Wisma with Annabel. I must have dropped it.

How careless I was!

My immediate reaction was to claim the money. The amount was exactly the same

amount as that which the bank staff had counted for me. It tallied so that it must be from

my brown envelope. It can’t be so coincidental. Furthermore, I had lost it, and it was

found along the pathway where I had walked the day I came in thinking that I had it with

me. But on second thought, how would I make the claim? What evidence did I have for

saying that the money belonged to me?

I cracked my head. I tossed and turned the entire night when I saw the notice board. I

knew that I had to make the claim soon if I ever wanted the money back. But then it was

stolen money. Although I did not actively take it away from somebody, I took possession

of it knowing very well that it didn’t belong to me. And then I had no proof to show the

management office that the notes belonged to me either, after I had taken hold of it. I


This Is My Money

called Annabel straightaway to make her an alibi. Finally, I thought about the Tiffany’s

watch and decided that I must be brave. I woke up early the next morning and called my

office to report sick. And then I went to the management office to see the condominium

manager. I began, “Mr. Tan, I believe you found a bag of notes along the pathway inside

this estate at Park Lodge.”

Mr. Tan looked at me impatiently and did not wait for me to finish. “Someone claimed it

already. She gave me the note from OCBC bank with the amount written on it, all that

was missing was the signature from the bank staff. Which means that that amount was

correct and that she was about to bank it in.”

“Who was it?” I was shocked beyond belief.

“Her name was Annabel, she said she dropped it when she went to your house a few days

ago.”

Yes, her shoes. Now I got the picture. The pair of Ferragamo shoes was hers. Annabel

knew that I had the bag of money all the while. She certainly saw me at the OCBC bank.

And then when I was having my shower, she looked into my carrier bag and found the

money missing so she took the bank note from my Dexter bag. I shouldn’t have called

her yesterday. She came back to Park Lodge to claim the money. And Mr. Tan gave it to

her. From then on Annabel never took my calls again. I sent her three messages, all of

which I typed: “This is my money.” No reply, no calls from her either. What was my

loss? Apart from the emotional stress, it was the seven dollars and fifty cents I spent on

the Chomel carrier bag, and a friendship not worthy of mention. But out of habit I now

always walk to the end of the Wisma Atria MRT to wait for the train, ever so ready and

on the look out for any unwanted articles. If I find anything this time, I promise myself I

will return it to the control station staff. But I have never been so lucky and unlucky

again.


This Is My Money

I decided that I am going to arrive at Annabel’s house to ask her for the money. If she is

having problems with her husband then he must be my friend. After all I know Jacob too.

I thought of the things I would say when either one of them opens the door. If Jacob

answers the bell I would tell him Annabel owes me money. And if Annabel was at home

then I would go straight to the point.

I thought about the matter very seriously and I felt that I could not allow Annabel to take

advantage of me this way. The money is rightfully mine. I found it and if I had been

successful in depositing it in OCBC it would have been mine at my disposal. It was just

careless that I dropped it in the estate. If Annabel had not been around I would not have

been distracted. So she is the culprit. And in any case no one saw me pick it up who is to

say that the money did not belong to me?

In the first place Mr. Tan had no business to hand it over to Annabel. Annabel is just a

visitor to the condominium. If she had lost anything it would be for her to look for her

host to claim her property, not directly with the condominium manager. I decided that I

must write to the management corporation to complain about Mr. Tan and get him

dismissed.

Three days later I found a note in my letterbox. A meeting will be called to convene the

matter. I was surprised that the management took the matter seriously and I made sure

that the day was kept free. After that I went about my daily activities whilst waiting for

Saturday to arrive. Eight thousand Four Hundred and Fifty-Six Dollars is not a small sum

I can't possibly forget about the money. Even if it was a surprise the fact that I had

brought it all the way home meant that somewhat I was entitled to it.

On June 25th I rushed home from work. The meeting begins at 2:00 p.m. I showered and

changed into a set of attire, which gives the impression that I am some kind of a CEO in a

large organization. I have not been mingering with the residents in the condominium so I

don’t know any of them. Occasionally I greet Mr. Yeo in the ground floor unit whenever

he is sitting in his foyer, or when Mrs. Yeo, Julia, is hanging her clothes to sun dry. At


This Is My Money

1:45 p.m. I walked into the function room located by the side of the swimming pool. I

took the seat next to the chairman. He was already there with his notes laid out nicely in

front of him. I cleared my throat as I was offered a Coke by Mr. Tan. “He is still doing

his job,” I thought to myself. I had Annabel’s address ready for him if the management

should decide that Mr. Tan get the money back from Annabel. After all he made her sign

for the note. The note is enforceable in a court of law to prove that she has taken the

money. Then I sipped the Coke.

After ten minutes the meeting began. “Today we are called here to discuss the matter of a

sum of money which we found at the condominium,” Mr. Tan began, “and this is the

only agenda for this meeting.” “To consider and if approved, resolve that the 8th

Management Council for the year 2013/2014 directs the Strata Residential Manager Mr.

Danny Tan to recover an amount of Eight Thousand Four Thousand and Fifty-Six Dollars

from Ms. Annabel, visitor to unit 03-09 occupied by Ms. Daisy Wong. Ms. Daisy Wong

being a personal friend of Ms. Annabel, we would appreciate it that she provides us with

the contact detail of Ms. Annabel. As the amount of Eight Thousand Four Hundred and

Fifty-Six Dollars was discovered in the condominium premises, the amount rightfully

forms part of this management fund.”

I was going to raise an objection at this point. This is my money. How do I put it across?

I cursed myself for not having gone to Danny Tan to claim the amount before Annabel

did. Just at this time Yeo Kok Leng spoke. “This money belonged to me, I dropped it

outside my apartment.” Mr. Yeo was the one who lived at unit 03-01. “Would you have

any evidence that the money belonged to you?” The Chairman asked. “Am afraid not,”

Yeo Kok Leng said. “Then the matter is settled. Finders keepers. Since the money was

found within the condominium premises, it belonged to the present Management Fund.

Kindly approve and resolve by way of an ordinary resolution, to direct the Strata

Residential Manager Mr. Danny Tan to recover the sum of Eight Thousand Four Hundred

and Fifty-Six Dollars from Ms. Annabel Wu of 19 Evans Road #05-05 Singapore.”

“There being no other business, the meeting is called to an end. As there are no written

notice received and no further issue raised, the Chairman expressed his appreciation to all


This Is My Money

subsidiary Proprietors present and declared the Meeting be closed at 2:45 p.m. with a

note of thanks to all present.”

The money is still not mine. The tussle is now between Annabel and the Management

Council. My claim for the sum of Eight Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty-Six Dollars is

further down the line as Yeo Kok Leng has mentioned that it was his. At the same time,

Danny Tan has Annabel’s contact so if Annabel tells him the truth, which is that I picked

up the money from someone else, I would be in deep trouble. So I rang Annabel. This is

the wisest thing to do now. She does not pick up my calls anymore. I sent her a text,

“Dear Annabel, Mr. Danny Tan will contact you regarding the sum of money you took

from his office the other day. Please do not entertain him.” And then I realized once and

for all that I have parted with Eight Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty-Six Dollars once

and for all.

This is my money.


this is my money

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