By Norman Cho
My Grandfather – Cho Kim Leong
Someone once told me that no one is truly dead until the last person who remembers him is gone. This statement is one I totally agree with! I may not have known my grandfather directly, but he still lives in the memories of those who knew him and in the stories of him that I learned from them. Far from be any luminary in the social history of Malaya, he was just an ordinary man-in-the-street with his own personal story…
Cho Kim Leong was born in Malacca in 1902, into an upper-middle class Peranakan family who lived in Heeren Street, a popular residential district amongst well-to-do families. The two known addresses that the family occupied were 84 Heeren Street and 151 Heeren Street. It was not known which of these two townhouses he was born in, but documental references in his adult years suggested unit 151. He was the son of Malaya’s pioneer plantation-owner (for gambier, tapioca and rubber), Cho Poo, and his third wife Kong Moey Yean. He later became the manager of his father’s rubber estates in Johore. Little else was known about his early years.
Starting His Family
He was married in Malacca around 1924 and had one son and two daughters. This was his first marriage. He became a young widower in 1933 when his wife fell ill and died. Soon, he looked for a second marriage in hope for a wife who could care for his young children. In 1934, he was introduced to my grandmother – a Singapore nyonya, Yeo Koon Neo (1913 – 1995), whom he married after several months of courtship. A typical date could consist of sightseeing via a trishaw ride, a leisurely stroll along the Esplanade, a movie at the Capitol Theatre or a casual chat over a meal. Their marriage took place in Singapore but he whisked her off to his hometown in Malacca to settle down. They had their first child, Charlie Cho, in 1935, the man who would become my father. During the same year, his mother passed away and left him the rubber estates in Johore. My cosmopolitan grandmother was feeling bored in the sleepy town of Malacca and longed for her Singapore family. She managed to successfully persuade grandfather to resettle in Singapore.
Life in Singapore
Grandfather relocated his family to Singapore in 1936 and settled down at modest bungalow in 421, Joo Chiat Road (Katong). Grandmother was very pleased as she had many relatives living in Joo Chiat-Katong, an enclave of the Peranakans. My maternal great-grandmother came over and lived with them. I suppose she wanted to be close to my father, her toddler grandson. This was the year that great-grandmother turned 60 years of age, a very important age for the Chinese. It is known as the Tua Seh-Jit (Grand Birthday). Grandfather, being a filial son-in-law, threw a big birthday party for her and invited chong poh (Hainanese chef) to cook for friends and relatives who had come in attendance. Trays of kueh koo were served to symbolically mark the occasion. These red-coloured pastries in the shape of the tortoise symbolize longevity. Earlier in the morning, grandfather had personally prepared the longevity noodle and served it to his mother-in-law for breakfast. This noodle (mee suah) was prepared with an egg and served with the sugar syrup that had been boiled with the Pandan leaves.
The following year, another son was born. They named him George. Life was looking rosy for grandfather and his family. Grandfather would indulge in simple hobbies like solving crossword puzzles, reading, collecting coins, listening to music and indulging in his regular dose of Guinness Stout. I recently learned that he was quite good at solving crossword puzzles as he had won the first prize for a submission in 1927. (http://newspapers.nl.sg/Digitised/Article.aspx?articleid=singfreepressb19271029.2.100.1)
I eventually inherited grandfather’s cache of coin-collecting which included coins that dated back to the reign of Queen Victoria. I also inherited grandfather’s Guinness bottle-cap opener in the shape of a nude female. It was a gift from Guinness Stout for drinking a specific number of bottles. For some strange petty reason, grandmother confiscated it from him. She did not like the idea of him being tantalized by nude female, even if it was in the form of a bottle-cap opener! Another prized possession that I had inherited from grandfather is the commemorative plate of the coronation of King Edward VIII in 1936. Grandfather was a loving father who had my dad weaned on Quaker Oats until he was almost one year old! The plate was given after six cans of Quaker Oats had been purchased. Not only was he a loving father, he was an affectionate husband as well.
Grandmother was the Elizabeth Taylor of the family… While grandfather was busy earning money, Grandmother would be busy collecting jewellery. He simply could not understand why she needed so many pieces. He had already given her a fair collection of jewellery. Whenever grandmother was not given money for her jewellery spree, she would give him the cold shoulders. The soft-hearted man would eventually give in to his wife’s indulgence.
The War Years
In the late 1930s, grandmother’s fifth sister and her brood of seven children had come to live with our family. Her husband’s business was not doing well and he had to travel to Malaya to solicit for business. Grandfather was a man with a golden heart. He took in his sister-in-law and her children, and looked after them. With war imminent in 1942, two more of grandmother’s sisters and two of her brothers took refuge in their matrimonial home.
Grandfather became the sole provider for his family and his in-laws. With commodities at black-market prices, his money was fast running out by 1944. He asked if grandmother would be willing to part with some of her jewellery but she strongly protested. She gave an excuse that they would not be worth very much anyway. Reluctantly, he sold his rubber estates in May 1945, not knowing that the war was going to end in a mere three months.
The war ended in August 1945 and grandfather had lost his inheritance and was left with bundles of worthless Japanese Banana banknotes. The depressed and frail man who had not been in good health during the war years finally died on 16 December 1945, exactly four months after the war. His penniless widow with two sons (aged 10 & 8) in tow, hurriedly buried him and left him in an unmarked grave for the next 66 years…
(Norman had earlier written about finding this grave.)
His Children Remember
There are not many living relatives who remember Cho Kim Leong personally. However, I managed to find out a little more of the man from his children – my father and my aunt. They remembered him as a stern father and a traditionalist who staunchly upheld his principles. They also thought that he was a loving and caring family man who was filial to his elders. He was generous to everyone who needed help. This Father’s Day, the descendants salute Cho Kim Leong for being an exemplary human being and an outstanding father!
Norman wrote earlier about building a tomb for his grandfather.
Editor’s note: Norman has documented how he searched for his grandfather’s final resting place, researching his life, and shared how you can trace your own ancestry. His journey continues as he builds on his knowledge of his roots. Do you have a similar story to share? Whatever the stage of your quest, we support your quest and will blog your journey. We have introduced long-lost cousins to cousins, paired different branches of families. We honour your stories, and will help you share them here as you seek more answers. Write to us at email@example.com
饮水思源 Remember The Source of the Water
Elizabeth Ong and Emma Lim
By Catherine Lim
In 2002 in London and Scotland, two Singapore couples stationed in the United Kingdom, welcomed new arrivals, both girls. Born four months apart, the Ongs in London named their daughter Elizabeth and she was their second child. The Lims in Scotland named their daughter, Emma and she was their first born
In 2006, after 13 years abroad, the Ongs returned home to Singapore because they felt it was time for their young family to root themselves to their country and they returned to the family home which with their children now houses 4 generations. Their children, elder brother Alexander to Elizabeth were enrolled in Nanyang Primary School and because they were still very young adapted well.
In 2010, the Lims after 12 years abroad returned home for very much the same reasons, to be with family and reconnect to their homeland. By then Emma had a brother and a sister. Their grandparents had visited them frequently when they were in Scotland and the grandchildren settled down comfortably in Singapore, all under one roof. Emma was able to enroll in Nanyang Primary School.
In 2011 Elizabeth and Emma met for the first time. They barely spoke in the first term of school but by term two their friendship just took off. Both are in the choir; Emma sings alto, and Elizabeth second soprano. Their passions are artistic. Dance lessons for Emma every weekend, and Elizabeth has been talking art lessons since 2007. Their mothers met and play dates were arranged whenever the girls had free moments in their busy schedules of school and extra curricula activities. But mostly the girls just text each other when apart.
As their friendship grew so did their mothers’. It was not long before they realised they had similar experiences of living abroad and coming home. When their husbands came into the picture, the Ong and Lim families found a deeper connection which reached back into Singapore’s past and found another friendship which their daughters’ echoed.
Lim Boon Keng and Khoo Seok Wan
By Ang Yik Han
One was the dapper son of a rich rice merchant from China, a poet and scholar who sat for the Imperial exams. The other was a local born Western trained doctor, recognised by government and society as one of the leading voices of the Straits Chinese community. Khoo Seok Wan and Lim Boon Keng made an unlikely pair of friends. But the historical and political milieu of their times gave birth to unlikely pairings.
Both men were supporters of the reformist movement in China which sought to re-vitalise the Qing Dynasty. Khoo founded the Thien Nan Shin Bao, a local Chinese newspaper sympathetic to the reformist cause; Lim Boon Keng was its English editor. Subsequently, Lim and his father-in-law took over another Chinese newspaper which also adopted the reformist line.
When Kang Youwei, the leader of the reformists, fled China after the Reform’s failure, Khoo offered him shelter in Singapore and sucour for the cause. With the threat of assassins dispatched by the Qing government hanging over Kang, Lim worked with Khoo and the Straits Settlements authorities to protect him. Kang moved three times during his short stay of five months in Singapore. The first two places were properties belonging to Khoo Seok Wan and the third hideout was none other than Lim Boon Keng’s house.
The two also combined their efforts in education and social reform. They established the Singapore Chinese Girls School with other progressive members of the Chinese community at a time when the proper place of women was at home and female education was look upon with disdain. Half of the funds for the school ($3000) were contributed by Khoo Seok Wan and both men served on the inaugural Board of the school.
Khoo’s role in society was greatly diminished in the years following his bankruptcy. He became destitute and had to scrap a living with his pen. Even then, the friendship continued.
The Ong family has in their possession a book of calligraphy and original paintings which belonged to Khoo Seok Wan.
This book bears the signatures of various guests who had the honour of leafing through it, including Lim Boon Keng who visited in February 1927. By then, his full time job was the Chancellor of the Amoy University. Lim’s occasional trips back to Singapore were primarily for the never ending task of raising funds for the University, yet somehow he found time to visit his old friend. This signature is testimony to their enduring friendship.
Post script on Emma and Elizabeth
Emma on her friend, Elizabeth:
Elizabeth is pretty and cute.
Elizabeth is smart, funny and my BFF.
Elizabeth has a kind heart and always helps me when I am in need.
Elizabeth on her friend, Emma:
Emma is my BFF and she is fun and exciting to be with.
She always sticks by me through thick and thin.
Emma is pretty and she is a true friend to me.
By Lyra Tan Ai-Ling
Today, my mind flits back to Bukit Brown and the stroll I took yesterday (April 21, 2012).
Yes, the cemetery. Sure it’s not exactly rolling hills. But the well-trodden paths among the lush rambling greenery and the bits of bush you have to push past, slapping twigs and leaves leaving streaks of rainwater and mud all over your clothes has a strange charm that appeals to the inner adventurer. Nevermind the fact that I had to pull myself out of bed at 6.30am in the morning to get there by 9am- this was something worth getting out of bed for.
And it was on that note that I found it ironic that our little group, despite the National Environment Agency (NEA) issued flood warning and the pouring rain, continued happily traipsing through the mud and grass, umbrellas of all colours unfurling around us. What is this deterrence you speak of? In fact, after a 3 hour walk, we took a quick pit stop at the toilets and abandoned the wet umbrellas in the cars- diving right back into the thick of things with another 2 hour trek in the glorious after-rain coolness.
Look, I don’t pretend to be any kind of history buff. In fact, I didn’t even take history as an elective in secondary school. The textbook bored me. How could something on a page, about days gone far, far by be something that I needed to know or remember? I loathed memorization. I didn’t take history as a subject.
But living history is a whole other story. History you can see, history you can hear. Even better, history that you can touch.
So it is really something when you get to run your fingers across the engraved characters of a headstone, in gold, red or green. When you mentally whisper an apology when you have to borrow a tomb wall for a foothold as you scramble up the slippery hill to the next new find. Standing in a silent circle in the pounding rain, listening to Dr. Lim Su Min sing a love song to an ancestor. History and heritage is in the experiences. Don’t stop at the classrooms and libraries. In the field is where it really blooms.
Now I know what it means to want to keep this beautiful piece of Singapore. I have to admit that I was bothered by the fact that it was going to go to make way for a new highway, but I never really gave it that much thought- another process in our ever-speedy development that I’d just have to get used to. But after yesterday’s walk, that changed.
There’s a heightened sense of connectedness you get from visiting this place somehow- in the words of Hoo Kuan Cien as we commenced the second half of our tour- “I feel so Singaporean right now”. This is intangible- it is something you cannot teach people from a textbook. It’s a feeling, a belonging, an ownership. It is something brought out of you- something that you ARE, something that comes to you as a realization. When you get rid of the old and keep rolling in the new, you create a people with short term memory. What do you expect Singaporeans to feel connected to if you keep getting rid of things that they have to remember our history and heritage by?
So seriously, if you haven’t taken a trip to Bukit Brown, I urge you to give it a go, before it’s gone to our ever-constant obsession with the want of a faster journey from A to B. Better still, save Bukit Brown, so that generations to come can go there to make their own discoveries.
Lyra Tan, a 17 year old Arts Business Management student and theatre enthusiast from Ngee Ann Polytechnic shares her thoughts and reflections on Bukit Brown after her first tour there on a rainy Saturday, 21 April.
by Andrew Tan
In Bukit Brown Cemetery, an avenue, like prime real estate, connects Singapore’s prominent families—all inter-related, as these powerful cliques were linked by arranged marriages to perpetuate their wealth and influence through six generations, during 150 years of British rule (1819 to 1959).
The earliest Asian elites in Singapore were comprador-kapitans from Malacca, who brokered with European (mainly British) companies, exclusive credit and arms deals. To procure native products for Europeans, compradors resourced from powerful clan headmen who controlled the supply of coolie labour, ships, and native products—crucial to entrepot success. Business partnerships were tied by arranged marriages between all families.
Family examples: Tan Tock Seng and his family network supplied and distributed manufactures for the British “country traders”; they also married influential relatives of the compradors and Kapitan Cina. Together, this was the first powerful clique in Singapore, which broadened (after Singapore’s cessation as entrepot of the opium-arms trade following British victory over Qing China) to include revenue farmers and labour contractors as their enterprises penetrated Southeast Asia.
From 1867, with Singapore a crown colony, the long established families recruited scholars and professionals as sons-in-law, to perpetuate their vested interests (e.g. tax-free “free trade” policies, opium farms, colonial intervention in tin-rich Malaya) through positions in the advisory board and councils at the municipal, rural and legislative level; appointments rotated among relatives (who advised the Governor on nominations) to ensure advantageous policy continuity.
The immediate decades after Suez Canal opened in 1869 diverted oceanic traffic through Singapore. To compete internationally, merchant families pooled their resources into joint-venture consortiums (in steamships); their offspring intermarried too. Ties between in-laws counted more than paper contracts.
Family examples: Notable Queen scholars (Lim Boon Keng, Song Ong Siang etc) and other top professionals were sons-in-law of well established merchant-shipping families like the Wee-Ho Hong-Lee group, as well as others who partnered in Straits Steamship.
Insatiable demand for World War One commodities (tin, rubber) produced the first multi-millionaires in Singapore: these nouveaux-riches—their heirs and heiresses were courted and charmed by Old Money. Merging New Money with Old gave birth to multifamily-owned conglomerates (e.g. OCBC, UOB, Straits Steamship) tying together banks, ships, plantations, factories and newspapers.
Large fortunes would aggrandize social ambition: Plutocrats usurped collective and consular institutions (e.g. Ngee Ann Kongsi, Chinese Chambers of Commerce), to connect with powerful Chinese warlords of lucrative market potential, offering to regimes funds for schools and humanitarian relief, using family-controlled newspaper editorials to galvanize mass involvement.
Ability to lead the Chinese masses into action was recognized by the British military; however, these plutocrats on war councils were relocated with their families to India just weeks before the Japanese Occupation.
Family examples: Families from shipping, commodities, revenue farming, and remittances, co-founded the conglomerates of OCBC and UOB, with ties to the burgeoning sectors like film and publishing, and family connections in politics.
1945-1959 Turning Point
In postwar Singapore, enriched by military contracts in the Cold War, scions used their wealth to contest for elected self-government, but the expanded, impoverished electorate rejected these “rich men’s parties” (Progressive Party and Democratic Party, whose members were related, merged into the Liberal Socialist Party), in favour of a new regime, the People’s Action Party (PAP).
Family examples: Contracts were monopolized by consortiums who subcontracted to each other. Chain of suppliers for the British military coalesced and expanded to retail giants.
1959 onwards Decline
Following Singapore’s independence under the PAP, the old elites diminished in economic influence: their once-predominant, century-old monopoly of colonial contracts was overshadowed by the growth of public state-sector industries in partnership with foreign multinationals. Attrition too, their vast landholdings compulsorily acquired by the state for redevelopment.
Their hereditary clan-leadership in communities has been subsumed by government departments that fund and run all neighbourhood activities and amenities. More than cultural and community centres, clans were once the centre of powerful labour unions. They once ran schools; but today, the Education Ministry syllabus and compulsory mandarin has created a generation disconnected with their dialect heritage, previously stressed in clan schools.
Arranged marriages and pedigrees became obsolete as post-war mass education broadened careers and widened choices in life partners. Also, professionalization broke down class barriers. The Women’s Charter in 1961 ended the quasi-feudal family structure.
As Singapore developed to become a middle class society, a new breed of technocrats allied with the PAP replaced the Old Establishment.
A multifamily tree, with 1000 people from 100 families, 6 generations interlinked in strategic alliances from the late 1700s to now, will be published in 2012. I shed light on the influential cliques (made up of powerful families) who dominated Singapore’s society and economy past two hundred years. Andrew Tan
Theatre practitioner, Alvin Tan visits Bukit Brown for the first time and shares his impressions and reflections on where he sees its place in the Singapore story – past, present and future
It began with a text message:
Jasmine alerts me to a Bukit Brown walk (Saturday 14 April 2012) on SMS:
Any one up for a stroll through Bukit Brown this Saturday morning 14th APRIL from 9am to 11-ish? The good volunteer peeps of the Heritage Singapore Bukit Brown facebook group have agreed to take us on a walking tour led by the tomb whisperer himself – the brilliant Raymond Goh. Pls sms me if you’re inTERESTED. Pls ask along friends family other filmmakers. Children and infants in baby carriers are always welcome! <<jasmine
I responded that I was interested but unable to confirm because it was a very busy week and I might be too exhausted. I’m not much of a morning person. I stalled. Jasmine persisted. And on Saturday morning, I was on the MRT meeting Jasmine at Tiong Bahru Station, jumping into a cab and we were on our way to Bukit Brown.
I was relieved that I reached Bukit Brown with such ease. Getting off the cab, friends from the theatre and film communities were already there. And soon we were to be inducted into the Bukit Brown community as we waited for for Raymond to arrive.
The tranquil environment was soothing; ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. Why is the dead impacting on us so much with this Bukit Brown saga? Why is heritage beginning to matter to us? Have we been losing too much of that in recent years and more Singaporeans are feeling the loss?
It’s happening at a point in Singapore’s history, after GE 2011, after the KTM/Green Corridor episode. It’s been bringing Singaporeans from all walks of life together – advocates, interest groups, NGOs and the public. I’ve never witness a cause being mainstreamed so fast here in Singapore that it is beginning to take on a momentum of a small movement.
Petitions have been started, position papers on both the heritage and habitat of Bukit Brown have been written, outreach activities to create awareness and appreciation of Bukit Brown to draw the Singaporeans and visitors from all walks of life, took flight. Whether it shows a sign of maturity, that Singaporeans are beginning to be stakeholders as citizens of this country is not as important to me as the fact that it’s the only kind of Awakening Singaporeans can afford. There is not just a small group of people, a core of activists who can be easily contained, labelled, character assassinated and dismissed.
The realisation that organic change is the best revolution for me accompanied me throughout the morning at Bukit Brown as I took in the stories shared so generously by the tomb whisperer, Raymond Goh. Just looking at all of us being attentive and learning about our history, cultural heritage made me appreciate the moment we were all in as we moved from one tombstone to the next.
Then the Peranakan tombs came into focus. It was not just the Chinese that were buried at Bukit Brown. There were so many Peranakans buried here as well. The tiles that lined some of the tombs made me wonder again how the Peranakans were determined to distinguish themselves from the other Chinese (sinkehs) who came later. The fact that the Peranakans integrated and assimilated successfully in Nanyang again arose in my mind, juxtaposed to our contemporary reality of new migrants arriving at our shores today. What would that outcome be like compared to the Peranakan story of our past? How rich these lessons are or can be and how did this visit to Bukit Brown inspire such multi-layered discourse in my mind? What can happen if history teachers, dramatists and other artists have site-specific happenings, engaging the public. Surely this would be something concrete that the Community Engagement Programme would gladly commission to build social cohesion meaningfully amongst Singaporeans.
Then of course a friend’s question bothered me: ” Why only now? Before the whole ruckus, who bothered about Bukit Brown? So why bother about it now? It can go, it wouldn’t bother me. It didn’t bother me before, and so, it shouldn’t bother me now. It’s a loss I can afford. “
Or can we? As we walked the trail, with nature all around us, I easily fell into deep reflection, sometimes conscious of the people around me and sometimes just amazed at how beautiful Singapore can be. Why do we make invisible what is astoundingly beautiful to replace it with something that comes from economic pragmatism? I can’t find it in myself to grief. Maybe because I am 49 and have been toughened over the years. There is never much use fighting for causes, fighting for what we believe in because we will come face to face with disappointment and disillusionment especially when it is already a done deal. Why should this time be any different?
But the above picture shows a group of people strolling downhill towards our next destination and those who were ahead loved the image so much that we all whipped out our cameras, almost simultaneously to capture the image.
Therein lies the hope: this small group of believers were walking down because they had walked up the tiny hill before this. This group of travelers believed enough to submit to the necessary demands of this route. There will always be people who will continue to persevere for what they believe in, shaping expectations along the way, building capacity, developing and strengthening community bonds. This is the birth and nurturing of stakeholders. No cynicism should discourage that impulse. It is not a group of people egging the public on. It is the public coming from all walks of life meeting at the cross road called Bukit Brown.
By the end of the walk, Bukit Brown had become a metaphor in my mind. But it will not become just a cerebral relic. Something in my heart was beating and burning. Something I have missed for some time – the quiet rhythm of a community forming, unbeknown to most of us. Something young and raw but definitely alive amongst the thousands of tombs all around us.
We have included additional photos from the tour including this “hat trick” of great spontaneity and generosity, instigated by Tan Pin Pin. $200 was collected to pay a tomb keeper to clear a couple of graves of undergrowth
About Alvin Tan and
From Catherine: I wrote this almost 5 years ago for The Straits Times. It seems to stand the test of time
Preservation and the soul of a nation
Catherine Lim Suat Hong, For The Straits Times, 17 July 2007
(c) 2007 Singapore Press Holdings Limited
MY FAMILY home, the National Stadium and an 80-year-old tree that was just felled over the weekend – in my mind they are all connected, and at three levels of engagement, from the personal, to the national and the global.
My family home at Serangoon Gardens was sold early this year.
In my memory it stood as a place of good times and bad. We moved in during the early sixties, and extensions were built, somewhat willy nilly to the original structure. We had one toilet and one bathroom shared among a family of six, a live-in maid and at various times even a tenant.
In the early nineties, my brother and his wife bought the house and rebuilt it. The new home had three bathrooms for a family of five.
I moved out with my parents to Bishan just before the turn of the millennium. I’m making new memories here and have no regrets for the family home no longer in our hands.
Not so simple though for the National Stadium. Watching the fire in the cauldron of the grand dame snuffed out for the last time on television recently, I was taken back by the groundswell of emotional response, including mine.
As a fledgling journalist I had covered National Day stories on the ground. In later years, it marked a high point in my career, when I helmed the live television commentary in the commentators’ booth, above the VIP seating area with an unparallel view of the parade.
I felt the earth move with the 21-gun salute; a hair’s breadth away from the men and their magnificent flying machines as they seemed to swoop towards me in the fly past; and as night fell the sky lit up in a kaleidoscope of colours that blew my mind away.
My personal memory counts for little. But viewed from the macro lens of a young nation, it is part of the collective memory of Singapore’s sporting history, of romances which blossomed on the stands and on track, and the passing of the baton from father to child.
Still, I was paradoxically ambivalent about this collective loss. After all, sporting history will continue to be made, love will still blossom and National Day Parades will continue to evoke patriotism in the continuum of time and space. Then I read Mr Ho Weng Hin’s compelling piece – Losing a slice of history – in these pages on Friday. He asked: ‘As another nation-building icon bites the dust… was it all really inevitable?’
He brought to the fore of the debate about conservation an international perspective in favour of rejuvenation through technology, even as our technocrats invoke the tide of progress as the cornerstone of their arguments for demolition.
Time and tide waits for no man. But time can be suspended, to allow generations to be bridged in a past that lives on into the present and beyond.
Much has already been lost. How much is subjective, not objective, and history will be the judge. But when the physical proof of such memories is demolished, all we have left will be words and pictures in libraries and museums, the purview of scholars many years down the road.
And it is to Braddell Road I now turn – to the 80-year-old angsana tree right smack in the middle which is now no more; the cut was swift just days after it was announced that it had to go because it posed a danger to motorists.
The decision came, ironically, hot on the heels of the Live Earth concerts to galvanise awareness of a planet in crisis. It prompted letters to the newspapers and on the Internet. Tree lover Sim Hong Gee wrote: ‘What is more appalling is the rationale for removing the tree – because motorists were not observing the speed limit of 40 kmh posted on that stretch of road. With all the well-posted road signs, it is clear to users… that one has to slow down significantly, given the extent of the road curvature even without the tree being in the middle of the road.’
The other letter that was published came from a neighbourhood committee member who wrote: ‘I have never been able to understand the unyielding stance taken against the cutting down of trees (by the two authorities Land Transport Authority and National Parks Board) even when there is a danger of them causing injury and death.’
He added: ‘I have always thought it ridiculous to spend $200,000 to have a major road split up just to avoid cutting down a tree.’
Judging by the netizen response to these two opposing letters, the latter were drowned out by supporters of the tree. But to no avail.
Human life is primary and rotting trees which pose a danger to innocent pedestrians and drivers should be felled. But not this tree. It was healthy, just inconvenient to speedsters. As one netizen pointed out, you don’t obliterate drink driving by eradicating alcohol; you educate.
The nexus of conflict, between saving the environment – both natural and man-built – and material progress, will continue to dog us.
We can establish a principle: that when we have toted up the pros and cons of demolition as compared to that of preservation – and by preservation I mean a living and breathing preservation – we subject the balance to the scrutiny of the collective consciousness. And return to the drawing board to relook, rethink and resketch new possibilities.
Our government has pledged that it is here for the long haul. As it contemplates how to root Singaporeans to the country, economic success alone is not enough; equal weightage has to be given to the soul of a nation.
There is still time. We are a city of possibilities.
“Honour your father and mother” is one of the ten commandments.
It does not specify dead or alive, so one can assume it means both.
So ancestor honoring and respecting is acceptable.But where is the line between honoring and worshipping?In my mindset the difference come in the answer to “whom do I turn to for help”.My dearly departed ancestors: I honor them by coming.
No kowtow or joss stick for me.
I would not be asking the ancestors for blessings
but I certainly I am happy to stand before them
and offer a prayer for their souls and a flower for their tomb.
On March 25, I started clearing some of the saplings that had surrounded the tomb of Lim Thean Geow with a saw borrowed from a friend, Khoo Ee Hoon.
Paternal side: Lim Boon Keng
Maternal side: Tan Tock Seng, Tan Kim Ching, Tan Boo Liat.He has identified 5 direct ancestors at Bukit Brown so far, and many other relatives.
He continues to explore it with historical and artistic rigor.
Look out for his upcoming “My Ancestry at Bukit Brown” guided tour, organized with all things Bukit Brown.
Bukit Brown. Heritage. Habitat. History.
Bukit Brown Cemetery is not just for the dead, it is for all living.
By Tay Kay Hwee, Mar 2012
I visited Bukit Brown Cemetery recently. I was spooked.
No, not by any ghost, but rather I was spooked by its hundreds of tombs; and its sheer vastness and untouched greenery. I thought, when almost every piece of our reserves has become smaller – chopped, trimmed and manicured for urban development, it is unconceivable that Singapore could still have such a huge area of indigenous forest in the heart of its island.
At 200 hectares, easily more than 200 football fields, it is no wonder that Bukit Brown Cemetery is seen as a juicy piece of land by those in dire position to solve urbanization problems. As a forest, it has been a piece of heaven for the birds and wildlife whose other space in Singapore has turned concrete. For the nature lover, Bukit Brown Cemetery is beautiful and natural, it is a rare gem of Singapore. As for the dead, there are the descendants who want to remember and show their respect for them by visiting their tombs every year, and there are those who feel that we should not disturb the dead, and let them be a part of our heritage where many stories of our forefathers could be told to our children and grandchildren, with vividity in front of their very tomb. For others, Bukit Brown Cemetery could place Singapore in the world map for a special kind of tourism – Paranormal tourism. Even the expatriates want a piece of our Bukit Brown Cemetery. During my visit, I saw an expatriate tagging toilet papers on the branches, I reckon he was planning for that weekend’s treasure run with his community. Naturally, for those who have been living around Bukit Brown Cemetery, the cemetery is their backyard garden.
From young, I learnt that the central part of Singapore is our catchment area. It has three big reservoirs surrounded by trees. To my understanding then, I am not sure how many Singaporeans also think this way, the catchment area would have lots of rain because of the trees. The reservoirs would collect the rainwater which would then be treated for us to drink.
Following the visit, I learn more. I learn that hugging a part of these reservoirs is the Bukit Brown Cemetery and it is actually sitting on a hill known as Bukit Brown Hill. By virtue of its cemetery, it was left untouched for many years. In these many years, Bukit Brown Cemetery grows itself into a huge forest, perhaps blessed by the fertile soil from the decomposed, it is very lush and rich. Then, something that the guide said got me thinking. He said, ‘Bukit Brown Cemetery collects rainwater and helps to drain water into the reservoirs.’ In other words, what might appear to many of us that Bukit Brown Cemetery is merely a cemetery is not it. Bukit Brown Cemetery lives in symbiosis with the reservoirs. As a high ground, it has been serving strategically as a large piece of drainage land much needed to catch, store, distill and gradually drain rainwater into the reservoirs. That is to say, Bukit Brown Hill, guarded by the dead, and its surrounding form the drainage and catchment area that supply us with natural water all these years.
But that is not it. When I left the east and moved to the central part of Singapore, I would proudly introduce to all my local and overseas visitors that this part of Singapore is its ‘green lung’.
Why a ‘green lung’? I am not sure how many of us will see it to mean a batch of green.
My 8 year-old son says to me, ‘If human beings breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide and plants breathe out oxygen and breathe in carbon dioxide, then, we will need a lot of trees.’
Indeed, our green lung gives us fresh supply of oxygen. No, I think our parks and parks connectors cannot form a lung, maybe arteries and veins.
To say that ‘Singapore is so small and needs land for redevelopment’ is to me taking a myopic view in looking after Singapore. Unlike infrastructure development, air is invisible. It is easy to make the value of air out of sight; while we let the tangible beauty of urbanization precedes our basic needs.
As a Singaporean, I feel that for Singapore is so small, we should do everything possible to preserve and protect our nature reserve for it is our source of fresh air and water. Even more so, to set aside more lands and let trees grow on it. Given that our nature reserve has not grown any bigger but our population has, to slice off a part of Bukit Brown Cemetery will appear to me as ‘not striking a balance’.
Seen from this light – our basic needs for water and fresh air, the fate of Bukit Brown Cemetery should not be just an issue of the government and some interest groups. As Singaporeans, we should take an interest in the fate of Bukit Brown Cemetery. Whilst we have heard from the LTA and Ministry of National Development on the need for redevelopment, what about the view from our Ministry of the Environment and Water Resources? Given the change in climate and the flooding problems, how will a change in our drainage affect the physical condition of Singapore?
Here’s a lesson that we can learn from a big country which tries even harder to protect their catchments. I quote from the website, www.melbournewater.com, ‘Around 80% of our drinking water comes from closed water catchments in the Yarra Ranges. 157,000 hectares of forest has been closed to the public for over 100 years. These native forests filter rainwater as it flows across land into creeks, rivers and our reservoir storages.’
I find this statement from the website just as salient, ‘The foresight of our city founders in putting aside land for catching and storing water has given us a fantastic legacy.’ The forefathers of our tomorrow’s children are alive today. Let’s think thrice before we cut down the trees. Technology could help us destroy a forest within days, but it has yet to help us build one. Till then, a forest will still take years to evolve.
Even at this final hour of breathing its last breathe, I still want to say that if only the dead in Bukit Brown Cemetery could rise up from their tombs and give witness and wisdom to their works, the wish of many Singaporeans to keep Bukit Brown Cemetery will well be echoed.
So, what about the transport problem?
Put it this way, as we see it now that Bukit Brown Cemetery is not just for the dead, it is for all living, building more highways do not solve the roots of our traffic problems. It pollutes the air and takes away our water.
Ms Tay blogged this on her Facebook page, where it was brought to the attention of all things Bukit Brown. This is reproduced with her permission. We thank her for her thoughtful post, and encourage Singaporeans to speak their minds in “Your Say“. Send submissions to firstname.lastname@example.org
Jaimie Ho discovers her great grandfather was a war hero and wrote to us
Look out for more events by NSS and other interest groups
The search for a long lost aunt buried at Bukit Brown began last year, when Miho Tan requested the help of Raymond and Charles Goh to locate his father’s sister. She provided these details
Name : Tan Lay Chee
Grave : C III, 857
Age : 18
Year of death : December 1932
Following up this year, Raymond found Miho’s aunt and from her tomb inscription discerned that Tan Lay Chee died at the young age of 17 on Christmas Day, 1932. She was unmarried, but a boy was inscribed in the tomb as a “stepson”. According to the information Raymond gathered – the burial registry does record cause of death - she died of mo tan, a kind of high fever.
He recalls her family visiting her tomb a few years ago but they had forgotten the route as the surrounds had become quite inaccessible due to fallen trees and overgrowth.
The family of Tan Lay Chee visited her soon after Raymond located her tomb, and brother Lay Chee connected once more with his elder sister.
Also buried at Bukit Brown, is Miho’s grandfather. Miho captured a family visit to his tomb in February in a video here
Grandfather Tan Choon Kiat was a book keeper and died at the relatively young age of 51 years old.
Miho’s grandmother, Lim Geok Yan survived her husband by more than 30 years. She died just past her 80th birthday and her ashes are interred at Bright Hill Temple at Sin Ming. Her grandfather’s tomb, is a double tomb but he rests alone. It can be deduced that his wife was originally intended to rest side by side with him.
The life and times of Lim Geok Yan is deeply etched in the mind of Miho’s father. He was the youngest of 8 children, 6 boys and 2 girls. We know she had to bury a child and as a young widow life must have been tough. Miho recalls what his father shared with him:
“Being a tough nonya my Dad says she had to pawn her jewellery bit by bit in order to maintain the household , the daily expense had to cover (they lived in a traditional Peranankan house), around 16 members which included 7 “cha bor kan” – Hokkien for maids. She was a strict mother too (Dad did not elaborate). I’m sure she would have been been a strict grandmother too and maybe I’ll be allowed to wear traditional Baba wear on special days.”
Miho remembers being taken to the Baba House, where her father pointed to a portrait of Lim Ho Puan hanging there, and he said to Miho, “there, that is your chor kong - (Hokkien for great grandfather)”
Lim Ho Puan is among a list of luminaries which include Lim Boon Keng, Lim Nee Soon and Lim Yew Hock named in the book Singapore Chinese Society in Transition, Business, Politics and Socio Economic Change, 1945 – 1967
A simple tomb of a long lost aunt, has become for the niece who never knew her, a touch stone revealing a family history which is both personal and historical.