Our Bedok Kampong House Singapore

Our blog has surpassed the 50,000 blog pageview milestone! And we would like to extend our heartfelt thanks to everyone who has joined us on this journey down memory lane. What began as an effort to document the memories of one Bedok kampong house has grown into something far more meaningful: a shared celebration of family, friendship, community, heritage and the Singapore many of us remember so fondly. To every reader, follower, contributor and supporter, thank you for your encouragement, your memories and your continued companionship on this journey. Every visit, comment, share and story contributed has helped keep a small piece of our kampong spirit alive. After all, memories only truly endure when they are shared. Once again, our heartfelt thanks!

The euphoria that surrounded Singapore's iconic 1960s group, The Crescendos, resonated far beyond the radio waves and concert halls of the day. It reached deep into our Bedok kampong, where the humble Ho family home at 6C became an unlikely centre of musical history. It was here that founding member Raymond Ho and his bandmates regularly gathered to rehearse before performances across Singapore, filling the kampong with the sounds that would later captivate a nation. Fans eagerly bought their records, played them repeatedly on home turntables, and carefully preserved them over the years as cherished reminders of a special era. The unmistakable voice of Susan Lim, together with the band's infectious melodies, provided the soundtrack to many youthful memories, especially after the success of their early hit recordings. One such admirer was Maurice Fernando, who purchased these two EP records in 1965 when he was just 21. As the eight songs played one after another on his recor...

Jorge Jose, a former resident of Koh Sek Lim Road, can perhaps be envied for one experience that many of us kampong children never enjoyed: having a swimming spot practically at his back door. In the 1960s, just a short distance from his home, stood what was affectionately known as the "beautiful blue lake" - a large body of crystal-clear water formed from a disused sand quarry on land belonging to the Koh Sek Lim family. Over time, nature filled it with rainwater, creating what felt like a hidden paradise. The lake teemed with fish and became a popular haunt not only for neighbourhood youngsters seeking relief from the tropical heat, but also for local anglers hoping for a good catch. Jorge, then a young teenager, remembers those carefree days with great fondness. After school and during weekends, he and his friends would gather by the water's edge, plunging into the cool lake with unrestrained excitement. Shouts of delight echoed across the water, accompanied by lau...

This week, we commemorate what would have been our father's 96th birthday had he still been with us. He passed away three years ago, but his stories and memories remain as vivid as ever in our hearts. Our father spent his entire working life with a single employer. As a radio technician, he began his career at Radio Malaya , which later became Radio Singapore in 1959. Following Singapore's independence in 1965, it was renamed Radio Television Singapore , and by the time he retired in 1985, it had become the Singapore Broadcasting Corporation , known today as Mediacorp. After his retirement, family dinners often became occasions for storytelling, as he recounted some of the many adventures and experiences from his years at Caldecott Hill. Among the many stories he shared, one particular recollection has remained with us through the years. It was 1961, when only the older of us boys was around, still a baby then. We were living in our Bedok kampong home, and our father mad...

This year we once again had the pleasure of being present for the National Library Board’s Donors' Appreciation Night, graced by Mrs Josephine Teo, Minister for Digital Development and Information, held on 23 October 2026. Upon our father’s death 3 years ago, we had donated, in his name, documents, keepsakes and photographs our dad had kept all the many years even before moving over to our Bedok kampong house in 1954. These were brought along to our HDB flat when we moved in 1974 and stayed there throughout the decades ever since. Over the years, he had expressed his desire to donate items of historical or heritage value to organisations such as the National Library Archives but did not get to do so in his lifetime. Last year, on display, among other items donated by others, was a 1942 Japanese occupation dictionary, historical documents of the Bukit Timah Rubber Estates (1942) and 1919 photos of the Singapore Peace Celebration taken by our grandfather. This year, we are so h...

They first met in 1954 when she was just eighteen years old and living with her family near the Bedok Police Station. A year later, when the family moved to 14 Jalan Haji Salam, a budding friendship blossomed into a romance that would stand the test of time. After four years of courtship, the couple became engaged in 1958. However, following the passing of the groom's father and in keeping with the traditions of the day, their wedding plans had to be postponed for several years out of filial respect. At last, on Christmas Eve in 1962, wedding bells rang for the young couple as they began their married life together. He joined the rest of her family at Jalan Haji Salam, where they lived until June 1967, when the house was sold and the family relocated to a new HDB home in Bukit Merah. Their family soon grew with the arrival of three lovely children. Their eldest child was born in this very house two years after their marriage. By the time they left Jalan Haji Salam, she was ex...

We would like to extend our heartfelt thanks to Tunku Dato' Iskandar Dzulkarnain, grandson of the late Sultan Abu Bakar of Pahang, for his deeply engaging book, Trailblazer: Life & Legacy – Abu Bakar of Pahang. Having connected with us through this Facebook page, Tengku Nain (his name in shortform:)) very kindly presented a copy of the book to the older of us, thoughtfully arranging for it to be delivered from Kuala Lumpur just last month. Recognised as one of the 50 Best Malaysian Titles for International Rights 2023–2025, the book chronicles the life and achievements of the towering fourth Sultan of Pahang, who stood an impressive 1.88 metres tall. Ascending the throne in 1933 at just 28 years of age, Sultan Abu Bakar would go on to reign for forty-two years, establishing himself as a formidable presence not only in the political landscape of Malaya but also in the social and economic development of Pahang and the wider peninsula. The book vividly recounts His Highness's ...

With most of us having moved to brightly lit HDB estates following the relocation and redevelopment years, it is almost overwhelming to remember just how dark our kampong nights once were. At our home at 10J Bedok Road, the rear of the house, where the main entrance door was actually located, faced a gravel road illuminated by only a handful of widely spaced incandescent street lamps. The front of the house, however, faced the sea and had no such lighting. Once dusk fell, a curtain of darkness would descend upon us. This photograph captures the front verandah of our house, with its distinctive criss-cross timber lattice panels. Seated on a rattan armchair is our mother, then in her mid-thirties, in 1973. What is remarkable is that beyond the reach of the camera's flash lay complete darkness. The photographer was looking directly out from the verandah, yet there was virtually nothing for the lens to capture. Looking at the image today, it is little wonder that kampong nights o...

Recently, we were contacted by reader Jelajah Ilmu Benar Insani, who, to our great delight, turned out to be one of the descendants of Haji Kahar, the famed "King of Bedok". Through his villa at Jalan Haji Salam and the legacy he left behind, Haji Kahar's presence remains an unmistakable and enduring part of Bedok's history. Our conversations on Messenger opened a fascinating window into the life of this remarkable pioneer, whose influence helped shape the Bedok of old. Villa Haji Kahar, named after businessman Haji Kahar bin Haji Abdul Ghani, was recently gazetted for conservation and was described by The Straits Times as "one of the last surviving markers of the old Kampong Bedok." Standing at No. 1 Bedok Avenue, just off Jalan Haji Salam, the two-storey bungalow occupies a generous 5,963.2 sq m site that also includes No. 3 Bedok Avenue, a beautifully crafted kampong house that once formed part of the family's estate. Based on public records, Ha...

 To everyone who reads this blog, thank you. We are truly glad you are part of this journey. Within these posts, and in our companion Facebook page, lies a living archive of a vanished Bedok that future generations might otherwise never know existed. These stories are more than simple histories. While many heritage articles tell us what once stood here, these recollections help us remember how it felt to live there. Through photographs, memories and personal accounts, we are transported back to the rhythms of everyday kampong life: the familiar faces, the well-trodden shortcuts, the bus rides, the neighbourhood shops, and the friendships that bound our community together. These ordinary moments may never appear in official records, yet they are often the memories we cherish most. This page has become more than a collection of stories. It is a shared community narrative, woven together by former residents, family members, neighbours and friends, all contributing their own thre...

This photograph, taken in 1985 by Jayne Krishna , captures a familiar scene along Bedok Road. It was photographed from the bus stop (notice the roof?) just outside her late grandfather's shop, belonging to our favourite barber, Uncle Velu. For many former kampong residents, this was a place rich with everyday memories. If you had been making your way to catch a bus here, you might have emerged from the wet market behind after taking the narrow shortcut that ran between Uncle Velu's shop and Fang Rong. Those cycling in from Padang Terbakar would often lock their bicycles along the fence of the Bedok Rest House before walking through the terrace shops to reach the bus stop. After checking whether your bus had arrived, chances were you would have stood for a while, letting your gaze wander across the row of interconnecting houses directly opposite. Looking further to the left, you would have seen the distinctive two-storey laundry building, followed by the Bedok Police Post. ...

We started this blog and Facebook page to share stories of life at our Bedok kampong home at 10J Bedok Road during the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. Many former residents began following our page and reaching out to us. It became our privilege not only to recount our own memories, but also to tell the stories of others who had lived in the same kampong community before the tide of relocation and redevelopment changed the landscape forever. What many may not know is that, in the early days of this page, we received an unexpected comment that took us completely by surprise. It came from our former next-door neighbours from the Rumah Bombay house at 4E Bedok Road. That remarkable discovery led to an initial reunion, and just last month, two former neighbours, both among the surviving residents of that bygone era, were reunited after fifty-two years apart. We were warmly welcomed by Abu Bakar Haji Ibrahim and his family into their lovely home, where we enjoyed their generous hospitality and ...

Today, we dedicate this Children’s Day post to all the little ones who once lived, played, and breathed in the old Bedok kampongs and their surrounding villages. There was truly something different - something magical - about being a child in our kampong from the 50's through the 70's. Childhood was not an age; it was an adventure. For Ron Ho , the kampong was freedom itself - roaming the beach, digging for shells, hunting for crabs and prawns at low tide, and “attacking” fruit trees that definitely belonged to someone else. Those were, as he often says, the best years of his growing‑up life. For Saadiah Ahmad , the memories still spark joy. She learnt to ride a bicycle along sandy lanes, caught banana‑tree worms to feed the family’s monkey, followed her mother to the beach to collect cockles, crabs and seaweed for homemade agar‑agar . She remembers catching tiny fish at the big drain near the army camp and watching mudskippers dance at the mouth of Sungei Bedok. For Marc...

Indeed, it was a lovely day to be married - 2 October 1960, the day our parents tied the knot. After the groom fetched his bride and returned briefly to our Bedok kampong house for the traditional tea ceremony, they set off for their studio portraits at Studio De Luxe, located at 33 Stamford Road. Only after the photographs were taken did they continue on to their wedding high tea - a modest celebration at Robinsons Café in Raffles Place, back when the Robinsons Department Store stood as a landmark of the district. A dinner was beyond their means then, but the joy of the day was full and unreserved. This photograph was taken just outside the studio, capturing the moment the couple prepared to leave for Robinsons Café after the photo session. Our mother, the bride, is seen being gently helped into the wedding car by her bridesmaid - her younger sister - and the best man. It is an iconic image for our family: not only for the splendid Pontiac that carried them through the day, but also...

In our earlier post, we introduced 30 Bedok Road, the modest shophouse known as Fang Rong, remembered by many as a half‑tailor, half‑barber establishment before redevelopment erased it from the landscape. What makes this little building especially meaningful to us is that it carried a connection to our own family. Houses can be owned, like ours at 10J Bedok Road – but we still had to pay monthly ground rent to our landlords, the Queks. And if we failed to make the monthly rent, the landlord reserved the right to have our house demolished – such was the precarious nature of living in kampongs in those days. Others like this shophouse was rented and the owner pays the ground rent on its behalf. Well, the owner of this shophouse at 30 Bedok Road was our grandfather. Before the renumbering exercise of early 1964, the property was known as 630‑A Bedok Road. Our grandfather purchased it in September 1950 for $4,700. He owned the structure, but still paid ground rent to the landowners of ...

The experience of having the neighbourhood Indian bread mama - our familiar uncle on wheels - come right up to our kampong houses was truly on another level. It always began with HEARING him before anything else: that bright bicycle bell, sometimes a cheeky horn, ringing through the stillness of our gravel paths. Only then would you SEE him pedalling steadily toward the side of our houses, easing his bicycle to a gentle stop. He would dismount in one fluid motion, flick the kickstand down, and flip open the wooden bread compartment behind him - transforming it instantly into a makeshift cutting table. And with that simple gesture came the unmistakable SMELL of freshly baked roti perancis (baguette), its crusty, golden aroma drifting toward us like an invitation. Our mother remembers that whenever she ordered an entire perancis , he would slice it horizontally from end to end, opening the warm loaf like a book. One side received a generous spread of Planta; the other, his own h...

Many in our Bedok kampong community will remember Fang Rong, at 30 Bedok Road - that modest little house which once operated as half tailor, half barber, sitting just to the right (from the orientation of this photograph) of Uncle Velu’s Indian barber shop at 34 Bedok Road. From Jayne Krishna’s years living with her grandfather Velu in the 70’s and 80’s, we learn that the barber‑owner here was Hainanese, living on the premises with his family. Jayne also recalls that several tailors came and went over the years - a reminder of how trades in the kampong shifted with time, opportunity, and circumstance. From our conversations with Ron Ho, a more intimate portrait of one of the earlier tailors emerges. In the late 1950s, the tailor was a man named Ah   Kow, married with two young children. He was part of a tontine community - known variously as hwei ( 银会 ) in Chinese, duit kutu in Malay, or kootu in Tamil - a communal savings system that helped families manage their finances long b...

Whenever the old Bedok Police Post or Police Station comes up in conversation, our attention almost inevitably shifts to the building beside it - a structure so familiar to kampong residents that it felt like part of the station’s own silhouette. Thanks once again to Jayne Krishna, whose 1985 photograph preserves this humble landmark, we are able to share its memory here. From our chats with both Jayne and our Rumah Bombay  neighbour Abu   Bakar, we learn that the left side of the building housed the dhobi (laundry) shop, while the right side was home to a sound and TV repair shop - clearly visible in Jayne’s 1985 photo under the Skylight Trading   Co. signboard. Though the structure is long gone - replaced by the car park of Bedok Corner Food Centre - it remains vivid in memory as a simple working house that stood beside the police station (on the left of this photo but covered with foliage) for decades, supporting everyday life through laundry and electronic repair work.

Seventy‑five years ago, on the morning of 22 September 1951 , our late father - just 21 years old then - made his way with friends to the Padang , joining thousands who gathered to witness a milestone in Singapore’s story. Before them stood the grand façade of the Supreme Court , its dome gleaming in the sun, as officials prepared for the ceremony that would formally confer Singapore’s new status: no longer a Town, but a City , proclaimed by His Royal Majesty King George VI . In the photograph above, you can almost feel the atmosphere of that day - the crowds on the field, the sense of anticipation, the pride of a young generation watching their home take a symbolic step forward. Our father was among them, an eyewitness to a moment that would be remembered for decades. He didn’t just attend; he documented. Quite a few photographs were taken by him and his friends, capturing the ceremony, the people, and the energy of the Padang. These images - once kept in our Bedok kampong house ...

We have always loved this studio portrait of our dad’s eldest sister - a photograph taken around 1950 , now lovingly preserved in the National Library Archives . In it, Aunt Annie sits poised on a wooden chair, dressed in a light‑coloured patterned dress with soft puffed sleeves and a neat collar. The floral and bird motifs across her fabric feel almost symbolic now: gentle, hopeful, quietly expressive. Her hair is styled in graceful waves, the kind of mid‑century elegance that speaks of care, pride, and a young woman stepping confidently into adulthood. She would have been about 25 here - serene, self‑possessed, and mature beyond her years. Even the way she holds her handbag, resting lightly on her lap, suggests a woman who understood her place in the world, who carried herself with dignity and quiet assurance. There is a stillness in her posture, a calm strength in her gaze, that makes this portrait feel almost timeless. And yet, just a few years after this photograph was taken,...