Our Bedok Kampong House Singapore

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...

Back in those days, it was all too common for us Bedok kampong folk to witness road accidents at that notorious sharp bend where Upper East Coast Road meets Bedok Road. More than once, we saw the aftermath of cars that tried to take that corner at high speed - only to skid out of control and shoot straight ahead into the shop front beyond the bend. A recent chat with our old neighbour Ron Ho, who lived less than a hundred metres from that treacherous corner, unlocked vivid memories of the accidents he personally witnessed - recollections so clear he can still picture them as if they happened yesterday. Ron shared one such incident: “Around 1961, one morning I heard a loud screeching from a motorbike, followed by a bang. I ran out of my house and saw that it had skidded and crashed into the pillar of the second coffee shop from the right. The rider was injured, cupping his right hand over his right eye, bloodied, while his female pillion rider had fainted but was not hurt.” But th...

In the carefree days of the 1960s and 1970s, so many of us grew up in our Bedok kampong discovering our worlds on two wheels. A bicycle was freedom - the easiest way to savour everything the kampong offered. We all remember cycling from our various houses, crossing Sungei Bedok, and heading toward the lovely, picturesque village of Mata Ikan and beyond, where the coast always seemed to shimmer in the distance. Our friend and follower John Lynn went even further than we ever did. As a young teenager in Siglap, he once rode with friends from an RAF family and cycled all the way from his home to Bedok Corner, entered the kampong’s gravel tracks, crossed the river, pedalled passed Padang Terbakar, and continued on to Somapah, passing Ayer Gemboroh and all the way to Tanah Merah Beach - and then rode back again. Wind in their faces, laughter in the air, and a smile sealed into memory. Such recollections bring back vivid images of cycling along sandy tracks bordered by swaying coconut t...

One morning in July 1961, a baby boy - the first ‑ born in our Bedok kampong house - came into the world at KK Hospital. And from that very first night, he made sure the kampong knew of his arrival. For a hundred nights he announced himself without fail in loud cries and wails, until a medium advised his parents to appoint godparents who shared his mother’s family name, though not related. Only then did the nightly chorus finally cease. He grew quickly, and soon a younger brother arrived eighteen months later. Then came cousin after cousin, until the house brimmed with joy, noise, and the unmistakable music of childhood. Six children in all - the house siblings’ third generation - filling every corner of our kampong home with laughter. As the oldest son of the oldest son in a Peranakan family, that once ‑ restless baby boy is now   65. Looking back, I count it a privilege to reflect on the historical significance of the life we lived in this literal corner of Singapore - Bedo...

A little less than two years ago, we shared a story about our go to barber along Bedok Road - Hair, There and Everywhere - a hilarious account of how impossibly difficult I was as a young boy whenever it was time for a haircut. Back and forth I went between our Bedok kampong house and the little shop, never quite cooperating. Today, we are deeply grateful to have reconnected with the lovely family who once lived in that humble house cum barber shop at 34 Bedok Road, right by the bus stop - the very spot where Eastwood Centre now stands. M.S. Velu was part of a group of Indian merchants who arrived from Java in the 1930s, seeking a better life in Singapore. Here, he found his life partner, settled into the family home at 34 Bedok Road, and with his skillful hands set up a barber shop that served Bedok kampong, Jalan Greja, and the surrounding neighbourhoods. For many years he worked alone, occasionally receiving help during festive seasons, but he remained the preferred barber for coun...