At least five people saw Munir at Changi Airport, Singapore, on September 7, 2004, a few hours before his death. A witness saw the human rights activist sitting at the Coffee Bean cafe with two other people. For reasons of safety, their names have been changed. The others, including Pollycarpus Budihari Priyanto, gave differing statements. Here is their testimony:

At the Coffee Bean

SA, 25, Witness, Garuda flight GA-974 business-class passenger. (Interview with Tempo, Monday last week)

Munir, for me, was not an important person, but was very popular, like a celebrity. He was often on television. Our seats were close together on the Jakarta-Singapore flight. So, we often saw each other, although we didn't talk.

When we got off the plane at Changi Airport, I was behind him. He walked alone. At the escalator, near Gate 42, he looked like he was waiting for somebody. I kept on walking. We waited 45- minutes in Changi. It was almost early morning, and the airport was not that busy. When re-boarding, I saw Munir talking with two people. They sat on a sofa at the Coffee Bean. I clearly saw Munir because I passed in the direction he was facing. Meanwhile, the two others had their backs to me.

One of the people speaking with Munir had long hair. Not really long, but longer than most men's hair. He was fair-skinned and rather tall. I don't remember if he wore glasses. The other man was wearing glasses.

Pollycarpus had features which were easy to remember: his eyelids were a bit bulgy. That was also true of that man wearing glasses. The hair, clothing, and demeanor all resembled Pollycarpus. However, I cannot confirm if that man was Pollycarpus. I don't want to make accusations.

At that time I did not see, or did not notice, if they were eating or drinking. The Coffee Bean was certainly closed at that time. I remember because I return to Jakarta from Germany twice a year, and each time during transit in Changi I always go there. But that night I didn't because the cafe was closed.

The man with long hair boarded the flight for Amsterdam, while the man wearing glasses did not. I had a chance to meet with the long-haired man in the waiting room. I was introduced by Pak JR, a passenger who sat next to me. While joking, Pak JR said that the long-haired man was a "political thug" who knows a lot about politics.

Directly to the Hotel

Pollycarpus Budihari Priyanto, 46 Garuda extra crew member, suspect in the Munir case.(His words as recorded by Pollycarpus lawyer, M. Assegaf, last Wednesday)

When I got off the plane in Changi, there were not many passengers around. I got out and was picked up by a Garuda staff member. I forget their name because it was three years ago (in his questioning file, he said he was picked up by Choi, a Garuda staff member in Singapore-Ed.)

I exited through a passageway, then followed the crew to immigration. It was enough for me to show my ID card and passport. There was no further examination. After passing this point I waited for a special bus for Garuda crew members. I waited because the plane crew must sign off with the ground crew.

Not long afterwards, the plane crew headed for the bus. We went to the hotel together. Captain Taufik Sobur, Brahmaniastawati, Yetty Soesmiyati, Oedi, and their friends were there; because it was 17 months ago, I don't remember all of them.

The matter of stopping by the Coffee Bean and speaking with Ongen? I don't know the Coffee Bean. I also don't know Ongen. I only recently learned of his name from the papers and magazines. The check-in time at Novotel Hotel is recorded, and that is proof that I headed straight to the hotel (the Novotel Apollo recorded it, according to documents charging Polly, and only the check-in and check-out dates are printed, not the hour-Ed.)

Did I exit and enter again? There are special hallways at Changi. There is a passageway just for passengers. If they want to exit there is an exit which passes by immigration. If I wanted to enter that room again, I couldn't, because there are different corridors for passengers in transit and exiting passengers. Passengers in transit are given transit cards. People cannot enter the boarding room without showing a transit card.

Ongen is My Friend

Josep Ririmase, 55 Witness, Garuda flight GA-974 business-class passenger. (Testimony to police, March 2005)

I got off the plane at Changi Airport with the other passengers in first class. I did not see Munir at the Changi terminal, and first saw him when at the boarding area. He was headed for the plane, while talking to someone whom I did not know. Later I discovered it was Doctor Tarmizi.

In the waiting area I spoke with Ongen Latuihamallo, an artist who usually performs a one-man piano show. I introduced him to a female passenger in first class who was sitting next to me. Ongen sat in economy class, but I do not know his seat number.

I was Ongen's neighbor in Ambon. He usually played music in churches in Jakarta. He was on the flight to Amsterdam. Ongen is rather tall, has dark skin, and has long hair. I should add that when I recognized Ongen, I first believed that he was my childhood friend from Ambon.

(On Friday last week, Josep turned down Tempo's request for an interview. He said that he had already given his testimony to the police. "So just ask the police," said this PT Garuda official).

Someone Like Munir's Follower

Drupadi Dillon, 56 Witness, Garuda flight GA-974 economy-class passenger. (Interview with Tempo, Wednesday last week)

At that time I was on a break from my studies in Waginingen, Holland. On the Thursday before the departure, I was introduced to Munir by my husband, H.S. Dillon. As it turned out, we were going to be on the same flight to Holland, so we mentioned that we might board the plane together. My husband also said for me to help Munir, as he did not know his way around there. Utrecht, where Munir would be studying, and Waginingen are close by.

I went to Singapore on a morning Garuda flight because I had something to do there. At night I was in Changi, near the D42 waiting area. I heard an announcement that the Garuda flight from Jakarta had arrived. Because I had made a promise to meet Munir there, I paid close attention to the passengers exiting. As it turned out, I was unable to spot him. Maybe because he is small, and at that time many of the passengers were large Westerners.

About 50 minutes later, passengers were asked to board. The waiting room was very crowded. I entered while looking for a place to stand. I looked left and right. Where was Munir? It turned out that he was standing and talking with two people. He looked pale but I wasn't alarmed. He must have had a lot to do before leaving.

Munir is short, small and skinny. The two people speaking with him had the same height, but one was not as thin. I recently remembered that it was Doctor Tarmizi Hakim. I did not see the face of the other person. His hair was short and neat, but not a crew cut. I am sure that it was not Pollycarpus. He wore a white shirt and a cream-colored jacket.

I got the impression that it was one of Munir's followers. When we were about to board, it was as if he wanted to help carry Munir's bag. He was younger and stooped over. However, at that time I didn't think it was possible for Munir to be bringing a supporter along. I mean, he is not a government official.

I was about 5 meters away from them, but in front of me the chairs were full. They spoke seriously, engrossed in their discussion.

Tarmizi and Munir were moving their hands, while the other man was still. It was clearly not an idle discussion. That is why I didn't want to disturb them, even just to say hello to Munir.

Parting at the Plane Door

Dr Tarmizi Hakim, 60 Witness, Garuda flight GA-974 business-class passenger. (Testimony to police, November 2004)

When entering the waiting room at Changi, I saw Munir sitting alone. I came up to him and said: "You're Munir, right?" He said yes. I then shook his hand and introduced myself. We chatted while walking slowly, lining up to get on the plane.

I asked why he was going to Holland. He said he wanted to recharge his batteries for one year in Utrecht. I said: "It's a loss for Indonesia. You are an important person." He said that he needed to do it for himself. Inside, I asked again: "Who are you voting for? [in the 2004 presidential election]." He replied: "Ah, it doesn't make any difference, Doc."

While walking, I asked him about what he wrote about Aceh, whether or not it could be restored to normal. He said: "Ah, that depends on the intention, Doc." If the intention is to put it in order, then it could be resolved in three months.

Nearing the end of the discussion, I took out my wallet and gave my name card to Munir. "If you ever need something, just give me a call." While we were walking and talking, I didn't see anyone else with him or speaking to him. We split up at the door of the plane.

- Budi Setyarso and Muslima