Our Bedok Kampong House Singapore

For decades, the Bedok Police Station stood as a familiar anchor along Bedok Road, just before the sharp corner turn that every kampong resident knew well. On 1 January 1985, it closed its doors for good - officially “due to a decline in the number of residents in the area, a result of the government’s resettlement programme,” as reported by The Straits Times . That same day, the Somapah Police Post at Jalan Somapah Timor also ceased operations, marking the end of an era for our neighbourhood’s early policing outposts. Operating for more than forty‑five years, the earliest mention of the station appears in a May 1939 news report about the tragic drowning of a three‑year‑old boy from Padang Terbakar. From then on, the Bedok Balai Polis became woven into the daily rhythms of kampong life — not merely as an institution of safety and law enforcement, but as a community touchpoint. Beyond its official duties, the station hosted “Little Police Weeks”, designed to strengthen ties between...

When national resettlement and land‑reclamation plans reached the eastern coastline in 1982, Aimida Haq and her family - together with their neighbours - had to leave the place they had called home for more than fifty-seven years (both her father and children were all born there). Their house at 150A Siak Kuan Road, just a short walk from where the former Sekolah Melayu Padang Terbakar (Padang Terbakar Malay School) once stood, was soon gone, erased by the tide of redevelopment. In the decades that followed, new landmarks rose in its place: the Changi MRT Depot, Singapore Expo, and the NEWater Plant. Yet the longing for the kampong they grew up in never faded. Through a private Facebook group formed to reconnect old neighbours, their kampong spirit endured - friendships deepened, stories resurfaced, and the bonds forged in childhood remained unbroken. Then in 2015, a simple idea took root: to return to their childhood hometown and see how the landscape had changed. In March that ...

To think that for a brief window in our kampong years - from 1960 to 1963 - Singapore’s National Day was not the August 9th we’ve celebrated for the past 60 years, but June 3rd , marking the moment Singapore attained internal self‑governance from the United Kingdom in 1959 before merging with Malaysia on September 16 th , 1963. It was a different rhythm of nationhood, an earlier milestone that sat at the threshold of the Singapore we would eventually become. In fact celebrations were held at both Bedok Girls’ and Boys’ Schools during those years. This first‑day cover, issued on 3 June 1960, commemorates that very first National Day. Addressed to our mother just before she married our dad and moved into our Bedok kampong house, it is more than postal history - it is a small, paper‑thin bridge to the world our parents stepped into as newlyweds, a world where Singapore was still finding its voice and its footing. Thank you, Mom, for sharing this precious artefact with all of us here. ...

We remember those short walks from our Bedok kampong house to Swee Aun, the neighbourhood provision shop that once stood where Cold Storage now sits along Bedok Road, near today’s bus stop. To us, the most‑friendly owner was always Ah   Yam - whom Mr   Yeo Hong Eng, in The Little Red Cliff , identifies as his relative, Uncle Yam. Mr   Yeo paints a vivid picture of the shop in his book: “Just like any provision shop of those days, Uncle Yam’s shop was stacked with rice, flour of different types, dried food products, canned food, bottled drinks, stationery and many other items. He usually wore striped pyjama pants and a singlet when conducting business.” -  The Little Red Cliff , p.   47 That description matches our own memory of Ah   Yam perfectly. He was a gentle, disarming man - almost always in his white singlet and drawstring pyjama trousers with vertical blue stripes - moving easily between the aisles of his shop, greeting neighbours with a smile that felt ...

Today’s post remembers beloved Hong Kong film and television icon Patrick Tse , known to our Bedok kampong folk by the name we grew up with - Tse Yin ( 謝賢 ) , pronounced Jeh Yin in Cantonese. He passed away on 16 July 2026 , just three weeks shy of his 90th birthday, closing a remarkable career that began in 1952 , when he was only sixteen. Over the decades he remained a constant presence on screen - actor, producer, director - with more than 170 productions to his name. Even at the time of his passing, another television series he had completed was still in post‑production. Our grandmother adored him - not only for his acting talent and rising popularity, but also for his striking good looks, a naturally handsome young man who lit up the screen. In 1958 , when the new Hollywood Theatre opened along Tanjong Katong Road, one of the films screened that year was The Heart Stealer ( 情賊 ). Tse Yin was just 22 , already a star. Grandmother was so taken by him that she brought our cousi...

It was one of those everyday wonders we grew up with each time the tide goes out from our beloved Bedok Beach. The moment the shoreline widened and the seabed revealed its secrets, Bedok kampong folk would move in, expectancy in the air. Families and children - we dug for mussels, clams, lalas , the occasional shy crab, and all the small wonders the sea offered only at low tide. For us boys, it was our paternal aunt who led the way. She would bring us down in the late afternoon, when the sun softened and the sand still held the day’s warmth. Those hours crouched over the sand, splashing in shallow pools, discovering treasure after treasure - remain some of the sweetest memories of all of our childhood. This 1954 photograph, shared by our former neighbour Daniel Koh, captures that world perfectly. Daniel, the baby in his late mother’s arms in this image, grew up at Kampong Padang Terbakar , just across Sungei Bedok from Kampong Bedok Laut - linked by that familiar little bridge w...