https://mothership.sg/2026/04/lau-min-hann-republic-polytechnic-father-grief/

'I don't know why I froze': Father, 55, talks about coping with 25-year-old son's death

What emerged, piece by piece, was that his son’s life had moved faster and further than he realised.

Nadya Pang

April 17, 2026, 10:16 AM

How does a father cope with the death of his son?

This was the question that weighed on my mind when I met 55-year-old Lau Boon King on Feb. 20.

I had asked him to lunch, and a part of me wondered if this conversation was too soon.

It had been just over a month since his son’s sudden passing, and we were meeting during the Chinese New Year festive season.

A sombre meeting during a time of reunion and of joy.

As Lau sat across from me at the Japanese eatery (Lau had assured me that anywhere was good), I felt compelled to assure him that we could do this any other time.

I need not have worried. Lau broke the ice in no time.

By the time his tea arrived, he had covered a broad range of subjects from the weather to investments.

But most of all, he was surprised by just how many people cared so deeply about his son.

Piecing together fragments

Min Hann, who was born in Malaysia, moved to Singapore (his mother is a Singaporean) in 2021 at the age of 20.

Lau was matter-of-fact about his eldest son’s early educational struggles.

Back in Kuala Lumpur, Min Hann studied in a Chinese school and struggled with Bahasa Malaysia.

According to Lau, Min Hann spent more time gaming than studying.

In Form 1, Min Hann encountered a marginal fail, but as it was right on the border, teachers promoted him to Form 2.

He faced his first wake-up call then, failed and had to repeat the year.

He took the disappointment in stride and worked even harder to prove himself.

Lau noted that when Min Hann put his mind to it, he had done exceedingly well at school.

According to a journal page shared by Lau, at the time, Min Hann said he had nothing to show and felt that he was going nowhere.

During his studies for Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia (SPM), or Malaysian Certificate of Education, Min Hann worked hard to improve his grades.

He started dreaming about the future, and he had a goal he wanted to achieve: becoming a fighter pilot.

Republic Polytechnic was the only polytechnic to accept him, and he did not want to waste that chance.

While he did not ultimately qualify for that role, he would turn his life completely around.

Min Hann served as RP's student council president and graduated at the top of his cohort: RP's Most Outstanding Graduate in 2024.

He would also serve as a grassroots volunteer and help out with many social initiatives.

Following his graduation from RP, Lau was offered a double degree in Engineering and Business Administration at the National University of Singapore (NUS), the NUS Merit Scholarship, and an engineering placement opportunity at King’s College London.

According to Lau, an email acceptance from Imperial College London that Min Hann was waiting for came after his passing.

By the end of his life, he was an officer in the army who received an early promotion to the rank of Lieutenant for Deputy Battalion Operations Officer in 2026.

For Lau, this must have been a bit of a shock.

He had kept up with how his son was doing, but as Lau still lived in Malaysia, he couldn’t see him as much as usual, visiting around three times a year during major holidays like Chinese New Year and Christmas.

Updates were conveyed through weekly video calls.

That young boy who had struggled with his exams was now a high achiever with the sky as his limit. It must have been quite a stark difference.

The day time stood still

And before he could properly contextualise this change, tragedy struck.

On Jan. 1, 2026, Min Hann received an early promotion from Second Lieutenant to Lieutenant of Deputy Battalion Operations.

“He was due to attend the milestone parade on Jan. 16 to mark his Operationally Ready Date (ORD), which is on May. 1.

Min Hann's parents travelled to Singapore for this occasion and were preparing to celebrate this important milestone.

On Jan. 15, the day before the milestone parade, Min Hann collapsed at camp.”

According to his father, Min Hann felt unwell but pushed through. His colleagues informed his superior officer, who told him to rest.

Shortly before 6pm, he collapsed and vomited, prompting the camp to call for an ambulance.

Watching, helpless

At Sengkang General Hospital's Accident and Emergency (A&E), a scan showed that a severe stroke, also known as a brain bleed, had occurred.

After doctors ran through Min Hann's blood work, they found out that he had Acute Promyelocytic Leukaemia, a rare form of blood cancer.

Doctors said it was curable by medication, but coupled with the stroke, there was simply no time to treat it.

Min Hann’s type of leukaemia made it tough for the blood to clot.

Lau said he knew then that that was the death knell since the brain bleed would not stop.

Lau prides himself on being decisive; if he knows what needs to be done, he will do it.

And yet, as he stood there, his son in unimaginable pain, he found himself unable to move.

Lau explained that his first instinct was to listen to the medical practitioners who said the priority was to protect Min Hann’s brain.

"I should have asked for the doctor to sedate him earlier. I didn't do anything, I don't know why I froze."

According to Lau, at around 1am, scans showed that the brain bleed had expanded.

A scan at 4am showed that the brain bleed had gotten worse.

Pulled the plug on his 25th birthday

"I went blank like I'm watching myself in third person", Lau said.

Min Hann's seizures worsened, and doctors arranged for a top-priority transfer to Singapore General Hospital (SGH).

At SGH, doctors tried to treat the bleeding, but nothing could be done.

Lau told Min Hann’s fraternal twin younger brothers to visit Singapore urgently on Jan. 16.

On Jan. 17, 2026, Min Hann's 25th birthday, his parents made the difficult decision to take him off life support.

Lau said the Ministry of Defence supported their family every step of the way, from his initial hospital visit to his funeral.

How to cope

But back to the initial question, how does one cope with the loss of a world?

For Lau, he has been trying to find out more about the parts of Min Hann’s life that he was not as privy to.

To do this, he has reached out to friends and mentors from Min Hann’s time in Singapore.

Eddie Lim, 43, a former staff member and lead advisor for RP's Student Council, is one of many Lau has since spoken to.

Over five years, Lim watched Min Hann grow, not just in achievement, but in character.

Lim told Mothership that Min Hann was a driven and disciplined young man who was initially seen as stiff and overly serious.

He said Min Hann was someone who had to learn to connect with others, to be more human.

"He had to really go through a series of hurdles and challenges to really go beyond himself and say, 'How can we reach out to the rest of the [co-curricular] CCA leaders', get them on board, connect with them on a peer level."

Over time, that effort changed him.

Min Hann grew into a compassionate leader, one who took the time to understand his peers, connect with them, and bring them together.

Tee Li Hen, 21, his RP junior, who is currently serving NS as an Officer Cadet, also spoke to Mothership.

He said that if he had one thing to say to Lau, he would tell him: "I would have never ever become who I am today if I had never met your son".

What is returned

It is important to be clear about how to describe what Lau is doing.

He spoke spiritedly about finding out about these other sides of his son, and how surprised he was to hear all these interesting stories about a self-assured young man that he sometimes did not even recognise.

But when I asked how he was handling the loss, he shrugged.

Throughout the conversation, he had been animated and sharp, but the more he talked about his son, the more his voice cracked. Every mention, a renewed reminder of this unimaginable pain.

Lau has gone through loss, of course, but the loss of a child was a whole different ballgame, he told us.

He likened it to a black hole and was unsure if his heart would ever be full again.

In that sense, I wonder if this quest to find out more about his son was less about finding a way to move on and more about understanding the exact dimensions of the hole left behind.

A voice note, a photograph, a story from someone who knew Min Hann in a way he did not.

And so he continues to ask: not for the impossible, but for what remains.

Luckily, his son has left behind a lifetime of stories to be uncovered, one memory at a time.