Opinions

There's a lot to hate about Singapore. Everything's expensive. Food, transport, schools, cars, and housing. Freaking expensive. 

And then there are some social and political issues that are not ideal. The state of democracy here, the freedom of speech and the media are lacking, compared to some of the more developed democracies.

The recent brownface saga also shows how we are still beset by race and religious issues. 

Yet, as we celebrate the nation's 54th year independence, it is perhaps a good time to pause, and reflect on where we are now. Some perspective will enable you to appreciate some of the more truly valuable things about Singapore.

The things that we love about our country. 

The food is some of the best you can find in the world. The standard of education is highly developed. Racial harmony does manifest itself in truly beautiful ways, unlike in other countries where racial segregation exists, and racism is blatant. Not many countries have a public transport system that is developed. 

There are a lot of things in Singapore to be grateful about.

Yet, we can't be contented.

We wish that in the near future, Singapore is not only a developed economy, but also one that is poiticially mature.

There needs to be more space for dicussions and responsible debates by people from various points of the political spectrum. They need platforms where their voices and ideas can be heard, and contested.

We wish Singapore to possess a political culture that is not only accepting, but also welcoming of a diversity of opinions.

We also wish for a more inclusive Singapore. Slowly but surely, those living in the margins of society are gaining more mainstream understanding and acceptance. The LGBTQ community, is one such example. They are still far away from being accepted as a "normal" part of our society. But the progress, compared to the pre-2000 era is considerable.

Apart from the LGBTQ community, we should also empower the less abled people in our society. A disability is not anything to be ashamed about. The government is already making structural changes to make Singapore more accessible, and disabled-friendly. These changes need to quicken. Our mindsets towards them also need to change.

Lastly, we wish for Singaporeans to be a more compassionate society. We contribute monetary donations a lot.

But beyond that, we are not kind enough to one another. Regardless of our political inclinations, our race, or religious beliefs, we need to respect one another more.

Yes, we are fierce competitors, but it is to our detriment if we look at our fellow Singaporeans as enemies, instead of as our fellow countrymen, who are human beings just like us.

Do you think these wishes will be attained? What are your three wishes for Singapore?

Why was Ramli Sarip's rendition of 'Majulah Singapura' criticized?

Ramli Sarip, also known as 'Papa Rock' to the Malay community in Singapore and Malaysia, appeared in the NDP 2019 Theme Song - Our Singapore official music video.

Some netizens then took to the internet to give some nasty comments.

There was even a thread on Reddit that talked about how the rendition has gone against the National Anthem Act.

Luckily there were some people that defended Ramli Sarip.

If you could recall, Singaporean jazz singer, Rani Singam, lead the singing of Singapore's national anthem at the National Day Parade, 'live' at the Marina Bay Floating Platform on 9 August 2013.

She gave her on rendition of "Majulah Singapura'.

So how come her rendition was accepted back then? And why not this year's?

Real story and experiences very elegantly written by Lakshmi Ganapathi.

Now here's the post that has been particularly difficult to write, but I am going to anyways in large part because I believe our personal narratives have power.

On a recent trip back to Singapore, I had lunch with an old colleague -- a mentor, a friend, and someone who I respect immensely. At one point he told me this story about a visitor from another country who told him that one of the anecdotes he shared would never be acceptable where he (the visitor) came from. And what was that anecdote? In describing sites to visit in Singapore to this visitor, my former colleague described Little India as such: "If you go at night, you'll only be able to see white teeth". He turned to me and commented, "People elsewhere are really sensitive. Whereas my malay and indian friends here can laugh with me when I say this". I kept silent. I too laughed nervously. For weeks I wondered why I did not say anything there and then -- out of respect and perhaps out of deference to seniority? And then I realized this was just one of the many scenarios over the years where I fit the theory of "double consciousness" proposed by sociologist and civil rights activist W.E Dubois: Minorities must learn and be able to inhabit the ways of the dominant group as well as their own.

One of the comments being thrown around by singaporeans (minorities included) about the whole "brownface ad" issue is this: " “Last time”, indians and malays would not be offended by this. These days we need to be mindful". It is no different from the comment I heard, " My malay and indian friends would laugh with me". Yes, we laugh, we may even join in, or we are silent at best, or we change things about ourselves at worst. Because that's how we learn to inhabit the spaces and ways of the majority. Our silence or laughter has never meant that it was ok. In Pritam Singh's words, our thresholds change, in local vernacular, we "become thick-skinned".

So here are a few episodes from the mythical "last time" which I have buried and have never spoken about. In all of these episodes I either stayed silent or changed something about myself. There are many more where these come from:

1. My earliest sense that I was different took root in primary school. Chinese classmates hesitated to hold my hand when lining up for assembly because it was "black". As is cultural, my mother had the habit of using coconut oil on my hair ("to help hair grow" as she would say). I once had a chinese classmate hold her nose and tell me " Lakshmi, your hair so smelly". I fought with my mom to not use coconut oil on my hair in primary 4 (4th grade). I've never used it since. Oh and what about those tuckshop interactions. My mom's a phenomenal cook, and took pride in packing me home made south indian lunches -- I made her stop doing that as well when some kid told me " Eeee, your food so smelly".

2. Those of you who have met my mom would know that she is light skinned. I once went to a salon in my local HDB estate to get a haircut. I was 10 years old then. The chinese hairdresser's only question was this, "Wah, why your mom so fair and you so black?". I asked my mom that question incessantly after that. My poor mom tried to explain genes (some of my grandparents are dark, my mom has light skin, light hair and light eyes), then she tried to tell me why my skin tone was beautiful and so much better than hers. None of which pacified my 10-year-old self. Thankfully, I can now tell my brown child that he is beautiful.

3. As a teenager walking out of my block's elevator, I've had little kids run up to me and call me "apuneneh" on several occasions. These days, I wonder how my american husband and son (who are ethnically Indian but also completely american and have no clue what "apuneneh" even means) will react if that happens. (For my international friends,
“apuneneh” is the local term for “black faced boogeyman” — most often used to scare local chinese children if they misbehave).

4. As a house officer in Singapore, I was the only Indian junior physician on my first rotation in Pediatrics. Our team took care of an indian baby, probably about 2 weeks old at that time. It was somewhat challenging to figure out what was going on with this child until he got an echo and was diagnosed with having a severe form of congenital heart disease. Lighter skinned infants can appear "blue" when you have such conditions. But that was difficult to ascertain in this child given his skin tone. The question I received from the senior physicians on the team is what lives with me till today (even though I myself am a senior physician now): "Shouldn't you have been able to tell that the child was blue? You are Indian". Really? Why should it have been that much easier for me?

Those of you who do know me, know that I went to Hwa Chong Junior College for JC1 and JC2 (for my international friends, this is 11th and 12th grade). I was one of maybe 10-15 minority students in the whole school. I was president of the students' council. The Straits Times even did a feature on me being a minority student government president in a majority chinese school. I count my years in Hwa Chong as some of my best and never did I encounter a scenario where I felt uncomfortable (though this may not have been the experience of others so I won't claim to speak for them). Which is to say, the scenarios I've shared are random, they catch us off guard, we barely have time to process it all. Hence, we laugh, we shrug it off, we stay silent, and we bury it somewhere deep. There is no "last time". It has never been ok, it is never ok.

This must surely have been so difficult to pen down.

Thank you for sharing.

 By Rudy Irawan Kadjairi,

The real problem with trying to talk about racism in this country?

The harsh reality that you can’t.

You can’t talk about racism in this country when there’s a more concerted effort to squash any suggestion of it than to discuss it.

That anyone bringing up or raising the awareness of racism in this country is seen as “a shit stirrer” and one whose agenda is nothing more than to upset the “peace and harmony” of this country.

And in irony as thick as the haze we get due to forest fires, we are far quicker to demonise anyone who gathers enough courage to point out about racism, than we are about the instance of racism itself.

We refuse to talk about privilege, and then see rampant comments that highlights the absolute ignorance and denials of the problem. Worse is to hear arguments that there is no racism here because they, as a member of the majority, have never seen any.

Perhaps more damning to the cause of trying to talk about racism, is when you have members of the minority insisting that shutting down the unease, the discomfort and the complaints against racism is far more important than talking about it, if it meant that we can keep up with the status quo of promoting the feelgood image of a “harmonious society”.

This message alone will be considered a threat. This message alone will be faced with disdain by those who want to maintain the mask we put on for everyone.

And I know I will be made the “shit stirrer”.

But the truth is, I’ve had enough.

I find it ludicrous that I even have to explain the instances of racism in this country.

Do you agree with what was said?

Try googling 'racism singapore' to jolt your memory of some old stories.

And honestly would you rather be the "shit stirrer" who stands up for something, or just remain quiet like the rest?

The public debate on brownface ad vs K.Muthusamy rumbles on. 

A Singaporean Indian, Yudhishthra Nathan, drew upon the musings of his own great-grandfather, R B Krishnan, some 80 years ago, and asked the same question - what does it mean to be an Indian in Singapore?

Here are his thoughts:

How would I answer the question my great-grandfather, R B Krishnan, considered 80 years ago if I had the chance to speak to him?

I suppose I would inform him of things he may never have imagined in his wildest dreams. That today, the locals of Singapore do indeed occupy an honourable position in the body politic of our country, that we have the independence to determine our future. That his brother’s youngest son would one day be elected by a Chinese-majority single member constituency to a multiracial Parliament of Singapore. That a personal copy of his book would one day be donated to the National Library by a man named S R Nathan who occupied the highest office of the land in the Istana built by those indentured Indian labourers. I would tell him that the “new Malayan consciousness, culture and tradition” he dreamt of evolved to become the Singaporean life I live today – an Indian amongst Chinese, Malays and Eurasians I count as family, some of whom I’ve had the chance to serve alongside under an oath to defend our country.

But I would also tell him that, sometimes, being Indian in Singapore means having to engage in moments of quiet questioning. The quiet questioning we do as children when primary schoolmates laugh at the sounds of our mother tongue. The quiet recognition of the barber’s condescension when you hear him say “hēi rén” and “tóu fa” literally behind your back as a kid. It’s the quiet loss of words you possess when people tell you you’re “not like other Indians.” It’s the silent consideration of whether the conditions in an advert may be prejudice disguised as preference – for tuition gigs, jobs and in the rental market. Questions which we learn from young hurt less when eviscerated from our minds as quickly and unexpectedly as they tend to emerge.

I would tell him not to worry too much about me because the irony of discrimination of any form is that it reminds me to be the bigger person, to check my own privilege, and to be thankful for all the people, of all races, who appreciate me for who I am.

I would tell him that, like him, I want to live in a Singapore where Indians can not only represent themselves but can be represented by others. A Singapore where “your” problem is “my” business – where you don’t have to be Indian to learn that brownface ads are in poor taste, where you don’t have to be Malay to call out the institutionalised discrimination in the armed forces, where you don’t have to be Chinese to start a conversation about the socio-cultural effects of the state-driven erasure of dialects. A Singapore where we look out for one another.

I would tell him that while he desired freedom from white men, I desire a Singapore where men in white free Singaporeans from being pawns in a political game. Where racial reservations for the Presidency are repealed, and where one’s race is not a determinant as to whether one can become Prime Minister.

Most of all, I would tell my great-grandfather that just as he dreamt of a common Malayan consciousness which he never got to witness, my hope is for the continual progress of the Singaporean consciousness we possess today even if, like him, I may never live to see the wonders of its eventual iterations.

There have been great strides made by the community.

Yet, there are factors, some systemic, that may not be in the community's best interest, or in their favour.

What kind of Singapore do you want to live in? 

Are we even aware of the privileges we have simply be being in the majority?

For a Singaporean identity to truly form, and to build a Singapore that is more inclusive, we have to break these barriers between the majority and the minority communities, and help them along.

We need to care about their issues and their problems too.

A concerned netizen, Yogesh Tulsi, himself a member of the minority community, has added to the brownface-K.Muthusamy debate.

For Yogesh, the reason behind Preeti and Subhas Nair's outburst was simply exhaustion.

Exhaustion from fighting a losing battle against racism. Since she started out in the industry, she has invested countless hours, as well as artistic and intellectual labour, "critiquing racism in comedic and acerbic ways (that Chinese influencers will never have to do)". 

She's exhausted in this battle against the use of brownface. This, he points out, is the sixth brownface incident in seven years. Yet, it continues to happen.

He lauds the music video by the Nair siblings because finally, people are paying attention.

The majority may be finally more aware that the use of brownface is offensive.

Now that's brownface has taken centre-stage, the prerogative is on the majority to not fxxx it up.