Lop Buri’s Wat Phrabat Nampu donation and land dispute — Phra Alongkot & Sakesan “Bee” probed

Whispers of incense, a clink of cash, and a courtroom-ready shuffle of paperwork: Wat Phrabat Nampu in Lop Buri has suddenly traded its usual peaceful chants for headline-ready controversy. At the centre of the swirl are the temple’s abbot, Phra Alongkot, and a well-known spiritual medium, Sakesan “Bee” Bubsuebsakun — both pointing fingers, both promising explanations, and neither yet clearing the air.

The drama began with missing donation money supposedly collected for AIDS patients under the temple’s care. Alongkot says Bee’s own secretary told him Bee withdrew 2.3 million baht from the temple donation account but handed only 2 million baht to the abbot — a discrepancy that naturally set off alarm bells. Alongkot was keen to stress he wasn’t publicly labelling Bee an embezzler; he simply asked Bee to explain the cash shortfall to both him and the public.

But this is not a plot that stays tidy. Bee, a figure already known for his spiritual services and a sizeable social-media presence, was soon thrust under the investigative spotlight. The Central Investigation Bureau (CIB) summoned him for questioning; he denied any wrongdoing. Police confirmed they had found 5.4 million baht in the donation account, but have so far kept the finer details under wraps.

Suspicion has been fanned by Bee’s ostentatious lifestyle. Photos and public chatter point to a luxury house and a fleet of high-end cars — details that have made donors and onlookers ask the uncomfortable question: where did the money go? Bee maintains that cash given to the temple’s abbot was handed over at the abbot’s request, while Alongkot counters he never checked the donation account nor interfered with the donation process. Two versions, one mystery.

As if missing cash and clashing accounts weren’t enough, a second controversy emerged: the temple’s alleged purchase of more than 760 acres of land using donation funds. The land, however, isn’t registered in the temple’s name or even the AIDS organisation’s — it’s registered under a woman named Worrasuda. The plot thickens.

According to Alongkot, the land was initially bought under the name of the temple’s former manager, Thanachai, who tragically died from COVID-19. Ownership later passed to his relative, Worrasuda, which gave the public cause to question why temple-donated land sits under a private name. Alongkot and the temple’s current manager say they’re now working to transfer the property back into the temple’s hands and have urged Worrasuda to cooperate.

Worrasuda’s public statements have shifted in tone. She initially insisted she never personally benefited from the land, and even said she’d drafted a will declaring the property would revert to the temple after her death — a vow that prompted citizens to ask why she hadn’t already transferred title while alive. She later indicated she was willing to return the land to the temple, a reversal that raises as many questions as it answers.

Adding another twist, the temple’s lawyer, Kirdpon Kaewkird, has stepped away from the case, citing health reasons. He also admitted to the media he was curious about the ownership dispute — an odd aside that only underlines how tangled the situation has become.

The CIB is continuing a dual-track investigation: one into the alleged embezzlement tied to the donation account and another into the purchase and ownership of the large land parcel. Investigators have pledged to prosecute anyone found guilty of defrauding donors, promising a firm hand to protect those who gave money in good faith.

For the people of Lop Buri and the many who follow temple affairs across Thailand, a few core issues remain: where did the missing baht go; why was large-scale land bought under a private name; and will those responsible be held to account? Meanwhile, social feeds — including images circulating via Instagram under accounts like @ghostambassador — keep the story alive, offering snapshots of luxury cars and quiet temple corners alike.

This case stitches together some recurring tensions in Thai religious and charitable life: faith and fundraising, devotion and accountability. It’s a reminder that places of worship aren’t immune to financial complications — and that transparency is the crucial balm when trust frays.

As investigators continue to sift through bank statements, titles, and testimony, the public will be watching closely. The outcome will matter not only to the abbot, the medium, and the woman named on the deed, but to every donor who entrusted their baht to a cause that promised compassion for those living with AIDS.

For now, Lop Buri waits for answers — and for the kind of clarity that can heal both reputations and the sense of community that gave those donations in the first place.