Our Bedok Kampong House Singapore

Built in   1902 to link Katong and   Bedok , this laterite stretch of East   Coast   Road - later aptly renamed Upper   East   Coast   Road - hugs the shoreline in a coastal scene lift. The swaying coconut palms lend the scene its gentle coastal rhythm, evoking the serenity of Singapore’s seaside roads before reclamation reshaped the land. Captured around   1950 by Tony   Holt of the   RAF   Changi   Association , this photograph brings to life the road that once led toward Bedok   Corner , now lovingly colourised in soft mid‑century hues . We are deeply grateful for the permission to share this image with our followers and readers — a glimpse of the calm we cherish in our Bedok   heritage   memoriam .

We recently came across a beautifully handwritten Jawi note dated 30 August 1946, tucked inside our grandfather’s old folder from our Bedok kampong house - a folder our late father continued to keep long after we moved away. None of us had ever seen this document before. It surfaced only after Dad’s passing, as though it had been waiting quietly for its moment to be remembered. The text appears to be a formal Islamic legal declaration, likely touching on matters such as inheritance, guardianship, or the transfer of rights. Its B.M.A. (British Military Administration) stamp places it firmly in the immediate postwar period, confirming that it was officially recognised at a time when Malaya was rebuilding its civic and administrative structures. We do not know who the individuals named in the document were, nor how this paper came into our grandfather’s possession. But its survival feels meaningful. The document has now been donated to the National Library Board’s Archives, where it can b...

There is a saying our mother once shared with us - one she carried quietly through the decades since we left our Bedok kampong in 1974. She was just thirty‑six then, leaving behind the house our family had lived in since 1954, a home that had shaped twenty years of our lives. Now, at almost eighty‑eight, she recalls a moment with her late mother‑in‑law, spoken in soft Peranakan Baba Patois - a reminder passed from one generation to the next: “Pandai tak lawan (melawan) nasib.” Cleverness cannot overcome fate (or blessings). It was a simple line, yet it held the weight of lived experience. Our paternal grandmother was telling her daughter‑in‑law not to carry the world on her shoulders - that no matter how smart, capable, or resourceful we may be, there are currents in life we cannot command. We may be pandai , but without the right nasib , things may not fall into place. And sometimes, even without great cleverness or advantage, good nasib can open paths we never expected. As w...

We are pretty sure this 1985 photograph of the original Bedok Corner Food Centre - which first began operations in 1971 - will stir up memories of the sedap kind. Not just for us, but for every Bedok kampong foodie (and former Bedok army camp mate) who still carries these gastronomic delights close to heart. Before its refurbishment in 2005 transformed it into the food centre we recognise today, this humble structure served as a gathering point for the itinerant hawkers in our kampong. Many of them operated just across the road at the sandy patch outside the old Bedok Rest House, bringing with them the aromas and flavours that many a kampong folk still carry in our minds today. Thanks to Jayne Krishna , who captured this scene from across the road and generously shared it with us, we can now savour a rare moment in time - a framed piece of culinary time‑travel indeed. Beyond the well‑remembered cheng tng and dried cuttlefish stalls, one hawker our family recalls fondly was Mr T...

Looking back at our Bedok kampong of days past that included all the adjoining areas like Jalan Greja, we could quietly boast of something extraordinary: Malay film legends once lived among us. One of them was the iconic Nordin Ahmad. A Star Just Three Houses Away For Yitzhak Usov, the memory is vivid. Nordin lived just three houses down from him at 33L Jalan Greja . Marhamah Sapan, who stayed at 35M , remembers living barely 50 metres away - all neighbours sharing the same sandy lanes, the same evening breeze, the same kampong spirit. It is remarkable to imagine: a man celebrated across Malaysia and Singapore, yet here in Bedok he was simply another resident, another familiar figure in the neighbourhood. Why Bedok Became Home Born in Penang in 1929, Nordin entered the film world early - starring in his first movie at just 22. When he began his contract with Cathay‑Keris Film Productions in 1956, it made perfect sense for him to relocate to Singapore. With the studio’s office...

Sometimes the memories that linger most vividly from our school days are not the pleasant ones, but the moments that shaped our character in unexpected ways. For Daniel Koh, the discipline at Bedok Boys’ School during his years from 1960 to 1965 remains unforgettable. While many schools of that era practised public caning - Bedok Boys’ included - there was another method considered the “lesser evil.” An offending student, accompanied by a teacher, would go from class to class to explain his misdeed. It was a walk of mild shame, meant not to humiliate but to nudge the boy toward better behavioural outcomes. What the whole school remembers with a mix of amusement and dread, however, was the Bell Ringing ritual. Once a week, just before the open-air assembly, a loud bell would ring - sharp enough for every boy to hear, whether he was on the field or along the corridors. The moment it sounded, every student had to freeze. Stand at attention. Hold completely still for 20 to 30 seconds...

Today brought a delightful surprise -  a discovery that reconnects us with a name woven deeply into our Bedok Laut and Padang Terbakar kampong memories. The original Koh Sek Lim Road, the quiet stretch many of us remember leading to the NEWater Visitor Centre since 2003 (and recently closed), has now been succeeded by a brand ‑ new Koh Sek Lim Road just a short distance away. As the map in the photo shows, this new road sits roughly 300 metres from the original alignment, built wider and sturdier, with two ‑ lane traffic in both directions. It follows the gentle curve of the Sungei Bedok Canal as it flows towards the East Coast Parkway, giving the landscape a renewed sense of openness and movement. Although the new road does not sit exactly where the old one once lay, its name - proudly inherited - feels like a small but meaningful act of remembrance. For those of us who grew up in the kampongs nearby, seeing “Koh Sek Lim Road” rise again on a modern streetscape is a quiet affi...

For decades, the Bedok Police Station stood as a familiar anchor along Bedok Road, just before the sharp corner turn that every kampong resident knew well. On 1 January 1985, it closed its doors for good - officially “due to a decline in the number of residents in the area, a result of the government’s resettlement programme,” as reported by The Straits Times . That same day, the Somapah Police Post at Jalan Somapah Timor also ceased operations, marking the end of an era for our neighbourhood’s early policing outposts. Operating for more than forty‑five years, the earliest mention of the station appears in a May 1939 news report about the tragic drowning of a three‑year‑old boy from Padang Terbakar. From then on, the Bedok Balai Polis became woven into the daily rhythms of kampong life — not merely as an institution of safety and law enforcement, but as a community touchpoint. Beyond its official duties, the station hosted “Little Police Weeks”, designed to strengthen ties between...

When national resettlement and land‑reclamation plans reached the eastern coastline in 1982, Aimida Haq and her family - together with their neighbours - had to leave the place they had called home for more than fifty-seven years (both her father and children were all born there). Their house at 150A Siak Kuan Road, just a short walk from where the former Sekolah Melayu Padang Terbakar (Padang Terbakar Malay School) once stood, was soon gone, erased by the tide of redevelopment. In the decades that followed, new landmarks rose in its place: the Changi MRT Depot, Singapore Expo, and the NEWater Plant. Yet the longing for the kampong they grew up in never faded. Through a private Facebook group formed to reconnect old neighbours, their kampong spirit endured - friendships deepened, stories resurfaced, and the bonds forged in childhood remained unbroken. Then in 2015, a simple idea took root: to return to their childhood hometown and see how the landscape had changed. In March that ...

To think that for a brief window in our kampong years - from 1960 to 1963 - Singapore’s National Day was not the August 9th we’ve celebrated for the past 60 years, but June 3rd , marking the moment Singapore attained internal self‑governance from the United Kingdom in 1959 before merging with Malaysia on September 16 th , 1963. It was a different rhythm of nationhood, an earlier milestone that sat at the threshold of the Singapore we would eventually become. In fact celebrations were held at both Bedok Girls’ and Boys’ Schools during those years. This first‑day cover, issued on 3 June 1960, commemorates that very first National Day. Addressed to our mother just before she married our dad and moved into our Bedok kampong house, it is more than postal history - it is a small, paper‑thin bridge to the world our parents stepped into as newlyweds, a world where Singapore was still finding its voice and its footing. Thank you, Mom, for sharing this precious artefact with all of us here. ...

We remember those short walks from our Bedok kampong house to Swee Aun, the neighbourhood provision shop that once stood where Cold Storage now sits along Bedok Road, near today’s bus stop. To us, the most‑friendly owner was always Ah   Yam - whom Mr   Yeo Hong Eng, in The Little Red Cliff , identifies as his relative, Uncle Yam. Mr   Yeo paints a vivid picture of the shop in his book: “Just like any provision shop of those days, Uncle Yam’s shop was stacked with rice, flour of different types, dried food products, canned food, bottled drinks, stationery and many other items. He usually wore striped pyjama pants and a singlet when conducting business.” -  The Little Red Cliff , p.   47 That description matches our own memory of Ah   Yam perfectly. He was a gentle, disarming man - almost always in his white singlet and drawstring pyjama trousers with vertical blue stripes - moving easily between the aisles of his shop, greeting neighbours with a smile that felt ...

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...