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When the Flood Became a Playground

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In the monsoon season of December 1986 to January 1987, most of Singapore escaped the severe floods of earlier decades - yet for Isnimah and her family at 31H Jalan Greja, the waters still found their way in. The flood rose around their house and its surrounds, reaching knee ‑ high levels for adults, and waist ‑ deep for any child aged ten or twelve. Their home sat close to the large drains running beside the Bedok Methodist Church compound, leading all the way to Sungei Bedok. Whenever the rains came hard, everyone knew what would follow: the big drain would overflow, and the water would spill over into their homes. But for children, this was never only a story of inconvenience. Born and raised in the house at 31H, Isnimah lived there until she completed her PSLE at Bedok Primary School. And she remembers that year’s flood not with dread, but with a kind of sparkling anticipation - the thrill of waiting for the water to rise just enough so she and her cousins could leap in, spla...
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Remembering Nya Nya

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This is our paternal aunt - the one we affectionately call Nya Nya - the heartbeat of our Bedok kampong house. She was the neighbour‑connector, the one who somehow knew every household, every small story that made our kampong feel whole. When the skies darkened and the first drops began to fall, her familiar call of “Lo hor ah!” would ring across the neighbourhood. It was a sound everyone recognised - a gentle alert that laundry needed to be brought in, a reminder that someone was looking out for you. That was her way: always noticing, always caring. She planted tapioca trees in our garden so that future tea-times would be assured. She knew how to slaughter chickens and prepare the Hainanese chicken rice we loved, turning ordinary afternoons into meals that tasted like home. Her carrying heart extended far beyond family - even the stray dogs and cats around the kampong knew her kindness, and enjoyed a small morsel and a moment of affection. In this 1959 photograph , she sits ...
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Our Mother at 88 -A Kampong Journey

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Our mother turns 88 years old this week. She first stepped into our Bedok kampong house as a young bride of 22, in October 1960 , when she married our father. From that moment, her life became woven into the rhythms of the house - learning to partner her sisters‑in‑law in its daily motions, caring for her mother‑in‑law, raising her two sons, and eventually guiding the entire household after our grandmother’s passing. Through the decades, she kept pace with the movements of kampong life  - the laughter of neighbours who became friends, the shared meals, the quiet evenings when the house seemed to breathe with its own memory. Her grace was steady, her presence constant, her leadership gentle yet sure. We share here our favourite photograph of her, taken during her honeymoon on Penang Hill , October 1960. Seated against the cool daylight and the sweep of the bay below, she is radiant - poised, confident, and stunning. The image captures not just youth and beauty, but the beginni...
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Commemorating Our Ah Gong with tanpiaheng.blogspot.com

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This week, we honour the birthday of our Ah Gong - the Patriarch of our Bedok kampong house, and the grandfather whose life continues to shape ours in ways both seen and unseen. Born in 1878, he purchased our kampong home in 1954, giving our family a place we would cherish for the next twenty years. Ah Gong was a man of quiet discipline and unwavering duty. His work ethic was exemplary, and his service as a volunteer corps member during World War I remains one of the most meaningful chapters of our family history. His name appears in two published books documenting the early contributions of the Chinese community in Singapore. Within those pages sits this 1907 photograph - a proud moment capturing his marksmanship as part of a rifle ‑ shooting team, a testament to his skill, commitment, and sense of responsibility. It took us several months to piece together a blog that tells his story - how he stood for the defence of Singapore, how he contributed to its economic life in those e...
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A Home That Stays With You - at Jalan Greja kampong

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A home is not simply a place you stay. It is a place that stays with you. For Marhamah Sapandi and Saadiah Ahmad , and their families, seeing this 1987 photograph taken by their granduncle Tok Noh, affectionally called ‘Atok’ by family - who revisited their former house to witness this demolition (the late Tok Noh would cycle over after Friday prayers each week despite having moved away)   - felt like watching a chapter of their lives being unstitched before their very eyes. The places where sunlight once fell into their rooms, the corners and sitting areas where they rested and dreamed, the kitchen where the aroma of meals cooked over gas stoves with tanks from Chop Bun Siong drifted through the air, the garden and open spaces where children played and laughed, the evenings when hush and stillness made everyone feel safe - all these carried the imprints of decades of memory that now yielded to a quiet kind of grief. Yes, the families - and all those from Jalan Greja and ...
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The corner Coffee Shop at Bedok Corner

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At one end of the row of shophouses - closest to the small access road that once led into the homes of our Bedok kampong - stood a coffee shop that held a treasury of memories for so many of us who lived there. Facing the open carpark of the Bedok Rest House and the old Long Beach Seafood restaurant, the coffee shop sat shoulder‑to‑shoulder with a mama stall that sold the familiar snacks and sundry items of kampong life. It even rented out and sold books and magazines - the humble predecessor of what later became Jodhi Book Store at Marine Terrace. For TJ Puar , this place was more than a neighbourhood landmark. His late father rented the entire coffee shop - believed to be No.   6 Bedok Road - from 1974 to 1983. TJ was just fourteen then, watching the rhythms of kampong commerce unfold from the inside. The stalls within were sublet to various hawkers: a distant relative who sold bao , and an elderly couple who ran a porridge stall at the front. But the star attraction was unm...
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Our Grandfather's clock - going strong still in 2026

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In 1954, when our family first moved into our Bedok kampong house, our grandfather brought this Junghans pendulum clock and hung it in the living room - its Westminster chime becoming part of the daily rhythm of kampong life for the next twenty years, chiming every 15 minutes. When we moved to our new HDB flat in Marine Parade in 1974, the clock followed us, carrying his quiet presence into a new home. The wooden body was replaced in the 1970s after powderpost beetle infestation, but the original movement still beats faithfully, despite some rust here and there. This week’s wind up proves it again: seventy two years on, the chime still rings true - steady, bright, and strangely soothing. To this writer it gives a feeling that all is well. A simple object, perhaps. Yet for us, it remains a living thread to our grandfather, to the old house, and to the soundscape of a kampong long gone but never ever forgotten. What have you in your home now that still reminds you of your treasured pa...
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