“Before you commit the crime, commit to knowing the cost.”
It might sound wrong, but I’ve always been fascinated by crime — not committing it, just observing how wildly people choose to ruin their lives in the dumbest ways possible. I love crime dramas, spy thrillers, stories about the underworld, blue-collar cons, and psychological mind games. That entire world fascinates me.
But what truly baffles me is this: why don’t criminals ever Google the sentence for the crime they’re about to commit?
Seriously. You’re sitting on your couch watching some guy barge into a bank, waving a gun around, shouting at the cashier, clearly panicking — and before the police even arrive, the guy realizes he doesn’t have an exit strategy. So what does he do next? Kidnap everyone. And I’m screaming at my screen, “PLEASE! Google the sentence before you escalate the situation. Think it through!”
I mean, if you must be a criminal, at least be a competent one. Study your field. Study the bank. Understand security systems. Know the time lapse between the alarm going off and the police showing up. Figure out who’s most likely to hit the silent alarm and where the cameras are. Bring someone who can disable them or hack the system before you even step foot in the building.
And for God’s sake, don’t make it obvious when you’re doing your reconnaissance. Blend in. Disguise yourself. Don’t be the guy eating lunch across the street every day at the exact same time, staring at the front door like a lovesick teenager.
I don’t understand how people so lightly gamble their freedom. If there’s one thing I never want to experience — not even once — it’s jail. Not for a tour, not for a visit, not even to say hi to someone I know. No thanks.
Recently, I came across a story that really shook me. It wasn’t a fictional drama this time. It was real. A woman who had once been a contestant on MasterChef, someone who made her state proud by appearing on European television, was sentenced — along with her husband — for a truly heinous crime.
During COVID, they hired an Indonesian maid. But instead of treating her like a human being, they tortured her. Not just physically, but in ways I won’t describe because I don’t want to carry that darkness in my words. And eventually, they killed her.
I still can’t wrap my head around it.
Did they think they were above the law? That being locals gave them immunity? That they could get away with cruelty just because they considered her less than them? Maybe they thought no one would care. But here’s the thing: people do care. And justice showed up with vengeance.
They were recently sentenced to 34 years in prison, plus caning — yes, actual physical punishment. And in Malaysia, caning is no joke. One strike can take six months to recover from. Depending on how many you get, the pain is prolonged, stretched out, and merciless.
And I can’t stop thinking — why? Why throw your life away? They were in their early thirties. They probably hadn’t even started a family. They destroyed three lives: theirs and the woman they murdered. At least she is gone now — may she rest in peace — but they? They will live every single day in a cell with that guilt, those wounds, and the consequences of their own actions.
And for what?
If you’re someone who finds yourself tempted by the thought of doing something reckless, something illegal — even just considering it — I’m begging you: Google the sentence first. Do a quick search. Learn what’s waiting on the other side. Think about your freedom, your family, your future.
And remember, even if you plan the perfect crime, you can’t control how people will react under pressure. You can’t script chaos. And unless you’re a politician or a billionaire with deep connections, the odds are not in your favor. Most of us don’t get second chances.
So, take a breath. Think twice. And maybe — just maybe — choose something else.
Salima
Just me thinking out loud over here