A Rainy Afternoon in Bedok Kampong
Whenever it rains, our minds drift back to the days of our kampong in Bedok. We always knew when the rain was coming. The first drops would begin drumming on the corrugated zinc roofs, growing steadily louder as the shower swept across the kampong and reached our home. At first, the pelting rain seemed noisy and disruptive. Yet after a while, it would blend into a familiar rhythm, becoming a form of white noise that was surprisingly soothing. Few things were more therapeutic than stretching out for an afternoon snooze while listening to the rain beating gently on the zinc roof overhead. The sound became such a natural part of our lives that when we eventually moved into our HDB flat in 1974, we often did not realise it was raining outside at all – until when we happened to glance out of the window. For those of us who grew up in kampong houses with zinc roofs, the sound of rain was part of everyday life, woven into our memories of home. How many of our fellow former kampong dwell...