Our Bedok Kampong House Singapore

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...

Some records describe Kampong   Bedok   Laut as a settlement for fishermen and farmers. Yet when our family arrived in the mid ‑ 1950s - and through its life until the early   1990s - the kampong was already a living tapestry of multiculturalism. Having called it home for twenty years, we still recall our neighbours vividly: Kak   Min and her family at Rumah   Bombay; Chew   Nian and Sa   Kor across the lane; the Ho’s and Soh’s nearby. Mdm   Salmah, her large family, and other residents along Jalan   Greja shaped the kampong’s architecture with their daily rhythms. M.   S.   Velu, our village barber, worked beside Ah   Yam of Swee   Aun   Provision   Shop - each eking out a livelihood with steadfast dignity, quiet industry and honest labour. We remember too our friends Adrian   Boudville , Mark   Roch, and their families, and Daniel   Koh. Aimida Haq and the households at Padang   Terbakar who brought colour to our neighbourhood. Adding to this mosaic were Jackie Munro, Ann Froud our R...

How wonderful it felt when SingPost recently launched their new stamp and postcard issue, Our Last Kampongs - and our follower and friend, Dr   Ernest   Chew, gifted us a full postcard set, “inspired by our posts,” he told us. According to SingPost, these postcards “capture the distinct spirits of Kampong Lorong Buangkok and Pulau   Ubin ’ s Kampong   Sungei   Durian through a charmingly quirky lens. Each design offers a whimsical glimpse into a vanishing way of life, illustrating the tightly huddled zinc‑roofed houses and the sun‑drenched, nature‑reclaimed dwellings. Through these artistic windows, the postcards rekindle the warmth and simplicity of our shared heritage, serving as a nostalgic bridge that transports us to a gentler era beautifully preserved in every tiny, intricate detail.” And inspired by these beautifully illustrated postcards, we tried our hand at an AI-re-interpretion of the August 1955 photo of our Bedok kampong house in a similar illustrative style – and h...

Mention Bedok Boys’ School and Daniel Koh’s eyes immediately brighten - as though those primary school years from 1960 to 1965 were waiting just beneath the surface. “I remember my time there like it was only yesterday,” he said, his voice lifting with unmistakable excitement. Each day, Daniel walked from his home at Padang Terbakar (later Siak Kuan Road), passing by our Bedok kampong house on his way to school - and again on the walk home. He recalls the flag‑raising assemblies vividly: “We sang God Save the Queen from 1960 to 1963, then Negara Ku from 1963 to 1965, before Majulah Singapura finally came into being.” National milestones, yet also quiet transition markers of his own childhood. Among the boys, it was considered a small badge of honour to be chosen to buy food from the tuckshop for teachers - a task that spared them the long walk from the staff room. And then there was the strict principal, Miss Annie Tan. Daniel remembers her clearly, though not quite fondly, desc...

When it comes to memories of hawker food sold around our Bedok Corner, these flavours transcend time - bringing us together across generations. Our former neighbours Ron   Ho and his siblings can still taste those culinary delights of the 1960’s even now. “Under the tree at the corner across from Bedok Rest House, there were five famous hawkers,” Ron recalls. “Top of mind was Aman, who sold rojak, tahu goreng, jaganan and some Malay kueh. Then there was Yusof with his mee rebus, the daging soup version. And another mee rebus seller, Ahmad, offered a dried prawn soup version. There was also a very popular sarabat stall selling all sorts of hot drinks - coffee, tea, milo - kosong, with sugar, condensed milk, or ginger (alia). Not forgetting their mamak triangular curry puffs, bread, and sugee cookies. And finally, that Chinese man with his push ‑ wheel stall of cut fruits and buah lai chwee, starting his sales promptly at 5pm every day. ” The Hos also reminded us of Bachik, who sol...

11 July 2026, we honour the birthday of our paternal grandmother - the quiet pillar of our Bedok kampong house. Had time allowed her to stay, she would be 129 this year; instead, her story closed gently in December 1969 at the age of 73. In this 1960 photograph, she sits at the veranda in full Nyonya kebaya splendour, as befitting her age, gathered with the ladies of the family around the household table covered with a hand ‑ knitted white lace tablecloth she had woven herself - the very same table that still rests in our mother ’ s home today. The moment is tender and ceremonial: it is 2nd October 1960, the day her eldest and only son - our father - was to be married to our mother. They were awaiting the bridal couple's arrival to the house. Her niece stands beside her, while across the table sit our mother’s auntie and our Tua Ee, mom’s oldest sister, dressed in soft lilac. In this quiet tableau, you can almost feel a new family linkage taking shape - two households, two lin...

Maria Menado - Malaysia’s beloved actress, screen siren, and icon of the golden era of Malay cinema - passed away recently in Kuala Lumpur on 30 April 2026, at the age of 94. For many across the region, her name evokes the glamour of the 1950s and early 1960s. For our family, her presence was something far more intimate: she was a figure who was once a part of the daily rhythms of our Bedok kampong. In those years, the ladies in our household were enthralled by her celebrity. They would stand at the veranda, or pause in the garden, hoping to catch a glimpse of her whenever word spread that she might be arriving. And indeed, she often did - to stay at the holiday home of Sultan Abu Bakar of Pahang, whom she married in 1963 before retiring from the film world. We were told that whenever she was in residence, music and song would float from that house, carried across the old Sungei Bedok tributary like a soft announcement that the star had returned. That house stood diagonally acros...

With heartfelt gratitude, we celebrate a milestone: 25,000 blog page views. Over two years and 260 posts, our Bedok kampong house stories have grown into a collective archive - shaped not just by our memories, but by the voices of neighbours who shared this journey with us. Thank you for reading, remembering, and keeping these stories alive. If you’d like your own Bedok story to be part of this living heritage, send us a private message. We’d be honoured to hear from you.

Kampong folk sometimes mistook them for Arabs, but the residents of Rumah Bombay - as the house at 4E Bedok Road (formerly 614) was affectionately known - actually hailed from Gujarat in India. (Yes, Gujarat was part of North Bombay before 1 May 1960.) They were one large extended family, led by their patriarch, the late Haji Kassim bin Adam, who ran a thriving dates business at 29 Arab Street under the company named “Kassim bin Adam Pte Ltd”. They lived just next door to us, separated only by a simple fence. Abu Bakar, Haji Kassim’s grandson, still remembers vividly the day they moved in - January 1957 - and how the family transformed the former hostel/boarding house into a home spacious enough for the families of Haji Kassim’s seven children, their children, and grandchildren. The house eventually held nine bedrooms. At its peak, more than forty family members lived together under that magnificent two storey roof fenced with beautiful, yellow-flowered Australia Gold Vine creepers...