Our Bedok Kampong House Singapore

Here is another photograph, taken circa 1957–1959, capturing the pre ‑ reclamation coastline along Upper East Coast Road. The view faces Bedok Corner, with a narrow municipal walkway and a line of mature coconut trees framing the left side. From what we read, the concrete seawall—visible here—was constructed by the former Public Works Department to stabilise the increasingly eroded shoreline, a problem already well ‑ recognised by the mid ‑ 1950s. A stepped accessway can also be seen toward the back of the photo. The paved path running parallel to the sea, shaded by trees (interesting to note a fallen coconut tree trunk into the sea) and punctuated with simple rest points like benches, completes this gentle scene of a coastline that has since vanished. Our thanks once again to Mr Yeo Hong Eng for generously sharing this photograph with us. Photo circa 1957-1959

She moved into our Bedok kampong house with the family at the end of 1954, just 4 years of age and the first child in the house – along with 5 other adults. 6 years later our mother married into this same household, and from then on the two of them were often appearing together in the photos you see here. This week, we celebrate our beloved cousin’s 76 th birthday -   we share the same grandfather, though different grandmothers - and we greet her with all our affection: “Selamat Hari Jadi, Panjang Panjang Umur!”

Here’s a remarkable 1968 photograph by Jackie Munro, taken from the fences of Bedok Army Camp—by then already standing on reclaimed ground. From this vantage point you get the entire sweep of the old Bedok coastline, stretching all the way toward Padang Terbakar, dotted with seaside houses, kampung structures, and fishing boats resting along the brilliant white sand. Starting from the left, you can clearly make out the Bedok Rest House with its British pillboxes, followed by Sa-chan-lau, the three ‑ storey home where Jackie lived. Further along the shoreline, the distinctive roofline of the Sultan of Pahang ’ s holiday bungalow peeks out from the trees. If you once lived along this coast, what else can you spot in this panorama—what buildings or familiar silhouettes call back memories of a Bedok that has long since vanished beneath reclamation?

Qing Ming (same day as Easter Sunday in 2026) has always been more than a date on the calendar. It’s a season of remembering and honouring the people who shaped the paths we now walk. The name translated “Clear and Bright” reflects not only the spring weather, but also the clarity of heart that comes with remembrance. For our family, that spirit lived in the way our young father and relatives made their annual journey to Bukit Brown Cemetery to honour his late sister, who passed at just 28 from sudden tubercolosis in 1952. Tomb ‑ sweeping, cleaning, prayers and offerings with quiet moments of reflection were the rhythm of those visits. These photos capture one of those pilgrimages, circa 1953—a small window into how love and remembrance were expressed in those days. And this post is also a shoutout to the Brownies — the dedicated and tireless advocates for the conservation of Bukit Brown Cemetery. Week after week, these passionate volunteers lead visitors through the cemetery’s w...

Not long ago, we discovered that our late father had quietly kept materials from his visits to the YMCA back in 1954 and 1955 - treasures we never even knew existed. We also noted that he only converted into Christianity in the mid 1980’s. These materials included invitations, and old activity programmes that captured a bit of what life and community looked like in those days. The originals are now safely preserved in the National Library Board’s archive collection, and we’re grateful they’ve found a home where others can appreciate them too. We hope you enjoy this little window into the past as much as we did.

We once shared about how our parents brought us to the National Theatre at River Valley Road in 1967, where we wandered through its beautiful gardens and fountains. But our memories of that place didn’t end there. One visit stands out vividly: our dad taking the whole family to watch a traditional Japanese Kabuki performance there. As children, those dramatic masks and elaborate costumes were both mesmerising and a little frightening, yet they opened our eyes to cultures far beyond our shores and taught us to appreciate art in all its forms. Then came the mid ‑ 1970s, when the theatre took on a very different kind of excitement. Cliff Richard was in town, and we had tickets to see him live at the same venue — right in the era of “ Power to All Our Friends. ” It turned into an unforgettable night, especially the moment when the drummer played with such intensity that he broke part of the bass drum, which had to be swapped out while he kept going. 1967 with our mother on the grounds...