Reservist training is not something I usually look forward to, but I was secretly thrilled when I received my annual call-up last year.

My unit was headed to Taiwan, where I had spent a month training during my days as a full-time national serviceman (NSF) just over a decade ago, for 11 days.

Given that this was to be my second-last in-camp training, it seemed like a poetic way for my army life to come full circle.

When we finally shipped off and arrived at our destination in southern Taiwan, the military camp was instantly recognisable.

I had last set foot here a few months shy of turning 20. Now I am almost a year into my 30s, and the squat, spartan buildings arranged around a tarmac square looked exactly the way I remembered.

The living quarters hadn’t changed a single bit either. There were still no lockers, usually found in all barracks in Singapore. And the dormitories were still filled with rows of double-deck beds crammed close together, leaving only narrow passageways strewn with our duffel bags.

As a teenage full-time soldier, I had found the conditions a step down from my bunk in Singapore, though still adequate. But it was a whole other story now as a working adult used to certain creature comforts.

I wasn’t the only one finding our circumstances a challenge. Someone forgot to bring a towel, having never had to pack one for all his business trips overseas. And since there were no attached ladders to our beds, it was a minor miracle that none of us – approaching middle age and with developing pot bellies to prove it – fell while clambering up and down

We were in Taiwan – one of several places including Australia and Thailand where land-scarce Singapore conducts overseas training – together with a full-time battalion and our mission was to play the role of enemy forces during one of their exercises.

Sharing the camp with the young ones gave us older national servicemen (NSmen) a chance to observe them up close.

They were lean and fit, and generally well-disciplined, marching in neat columns whenever moving about the camp in numbers. One of my friends noted simply: “They look like soldiers.”

Just about the only flaw I could spot was a penchant for leaving stray bits of food at the water cooler whenever they went to get hot water for their instant noodles.

But other than that, they hardly gave us a chance to point and mutter, “Kids nowadays…” before shaking our heads and recounting how much harder we had it in our day.

No, our age gap was emphasised in other, more personally humbling ways. My friend and I were wandering around the small military compound and came across a set of chin-up bars. We had served together as NSFs and could crank out at least 12 chin-ups easily – back then.

On the spur of the moment, we decided to do a few chin-ups for old times’ sake. But then, we spotted some NSFs spying on us from a corner.

Not wanting to lose face while they were watching, we unwisely pushed ourselves and finally struggled to a grand total of eight chin-ups each.

We nursed a neck ache for days.

THE YOUNG AND THE RESTLESS

Once out in the field, a bunch of NSFs were assigned to us as drivers. At times, we regarded each other as strange specimens from an alien world.

We marvelled at their ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. No pocket of time was too short for them to find a shaded spot, lie down and instantly be in deep slumber.

We, on the other hand, tossed and turned endlessly, swatting at bugs and trying to find a comfortable position, finally drifting to sleep before being jolted awake almost immediately by the loud snores of our buddy.

The NSFs, in turn, seemed to find pleasure in comparing our different life stages. After I told one that I had enlisted in 2004, he exchanged a stunned look with his friend and informed me that he had just started primary school back then.

Facepalm moments aside, this trip turned out to be one of my most positive reservist stints.

Usually, people drag their feet when there is work to be done. Or someone comes down with a mysterious ailment just before we head off to the jungle.

But this time, everyone pulled their weight. The equipment was moved quickly, the area cleaning was done efficiently, and there was definitely much less of the sense that people were trying to lie low to avoid responsibility.

Perhaps it was because everyone knew we were nearing the end of our time in uniform. And since every task that we performed might well be the final time we went through with it, we might as well give it our best shot.

Unable to sleep out in the field at night, we spent hours chatting about our work and families, and cracking nonsensical jokes. I will always find it amazing how a bunch of men can report for duty as strangers, share some of the most intimate details of their lives over a few weeks and then go back to being strangers once their time is served.

We also got to play soldier one last time, engaging the NSFs in mock gunfights as part of their training. The boys were tough, manoeuvring about with youthful vigour.

OPERATIONALLY READY

Later, many of us admitted that these young soldiers were impressive and we were glad that they would be the ones protecting the country from now on.

I was reminded of these NSFs when I realised that Singapore will mark the 50th anniversary of national service (NS) this year.

The essence of NS has been 50 years of an inter-generational changing of the guard, as one soldier hangs up his uniform for good, while another steps up to bear arms in his place.

Today, NS enjoys widespread support among the population, but it was not always so. When NS was made compulsory in 1967, several anti-NS protests sprang up, with the largest attracting 300 demonstrators.

Now, the institution – besides serving a primary purpose of defending the nation – has evolved to take on greater meaning and is seen as an important rite of passage for Singaporean males.

I am fortunate to have had a meaningful experience during my final stage of NS and even though there have been bumps along the way, I am glad to have been a part of this journey.

This article was first published on Jan 08, 2017.
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More HDB residents are turning to closed-circuit television cameras or wireless cameras to monitor their neighbours’ misdeeds.

But some of them do not realise they have to first make a police report and get permission from their town council before they can set up such surveillance equipment.

Even then, the cameras can only be used for up to six months before they have to be taken down.

An officer manning the HDB branch customer service line confirmed that before setting up a CCTV camera, a police report has to be made. The town council should then be informed. Following that, permission from the town council may be obtained.

Said Mr Marvin Poh, public relations manager of the Ang Mo Kio Town Council: “The town council may issue permits for CCTV camera installations for harassment cases after police reports have been made.”

The camera, he added, “must only capture the movements or activities happening within the boundaries of the owner’s unit”. This refers to the immediate area outside a residence, but not into a neighbour’s home.

Late last month, Mr Ng Jun Wei, 28, found that a camera perched on his neighbour’s window was pointing straight at his door. The undergraduate complained on the Ang Mo Kio Town Council (AMKTC) Facebook page of a violation of privacy.

Days later, his family put up their own camera.

The dispute started four years ago with mutual complaints of noise and has since escalated to claims of harassment and verbal abuse.

Both parties have lodged multiple police reports against each other.

Mediation has not helped.

Mr Ng’s neighbour, a housewife in her 40s, said her family got permission for their camera late last month. Mr Ng said he has asked for approval for his camera, and is considering filing for a protection order against alleged harassment.

Criminal lawyer Rajan Supramaniam has seen a 20 per cent rise in residents installing cameras to monitor and gather evidence of misdeeds.

He sees about five to eight cases of neighbour disputes in a month, up from two to three cases a month two years back. He is also a volunteer at Meet-the-People Sessions in Hougang, advising residents on disputes. “There are guidelines that say you should not be pointing a camera into people’s bedrooms, or homes. That would be a violation of privacy.”

AMKTC bylaws state that written permission is required before anything can be installed on common property. Offenders may be fined up to $1,000.

Mr Supramaniam said cameras are permitted on a temporary basis and have to be removed after an issue is resolved. “The town council may give up to six months for the CCTV camera to be removed.”

Such surveillance is also becoming a source of dispute. As of last November, about one in 10 cases before the Community Disputes Resolution Tribunals, a last resort when mediation fails, involved “surveillance” as a cause of complaint. A State Courts spokesman said surveillance includes observing a neighbour’s movements in and out of a flat, or using a mobile device to record them.

Mr Supramaniam believes more can be done to raise awareness of the rules, which may prevent situations from escalating. For instance, town council staff could do regular inspections and take action against those without permits, even when there are no complaints.

Steeper fines could be imposed, he added, and notices displayed around neighbourhoods so residents are aware of the regulations.

This article was first published on Jan 08, 2017.
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A Facebook user posted a photo of a letter from the Housing and Development Board (HDB), advising the recipient to “remove” his cat from his home by Jan 11 after receiving feedback that he was keeping a cat in his flat.

A contributor alerted citizen journalism website Stomp to the post by Alfredo Seow after it started gaining traction on Facebook.

The letter explained that under HDB’s policy, keeping of cats in HDB flats is strictly prohibited as they are “difficult to be confined within flats”.

The Estate Manager who wrote the letter added that “cat-related nuisance such as shedding of fur, defecation in public areas and noise disturbance can spoil the estate’s living environment and disrupt good neighbourliness”.

The post has garnered over 1,700 shares, 895 reactions and more than 500 comments since it was posted on Saturday (Jan 7).

Many of those who commented are cat lovers, who questioned why dogs are allowed in HDB flats when cats are not.

According to the HDB, 62 breeds of dogs are allowed in flats while cats are not allowed at all.

Replying to a comment, Alfredo said: “Oh well, time to find a dog that behaves like a cat then. [Because] apparently, they don’t shed fur or make a mess.”

Facebook user Haz commented on the ‘irony’ of the situation by sharing his aunt’s own experience: “My aunt also kena until SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) came to collect her cats. All [because] the neighbour complained that the cats made her dog bark all the time. The IRONY. (sic)”

However, another commenter, Michelle, tried to see both sides of the issue.

“I have friends whose cats have leapt [out] of their windows trying to catch birds, or just to escape home. any cats have such tendencies, and HDB flats aren’t built with ledges and corrugated surfaces that are conducive for cats that like to chill outside. I think HDB is just being cautious by discouraging flat owners to keep cats in flats. That being said, I also know a lot of flat owners [who], with careful measure, have kept their cats till they grow old, and given them good lives.”

Said Elton Liaw: “Cats are considered small breed animals and why it is not allowed to be kept in HDB? At least they are toilet trained and will keep themselves clean.

Fellow cat owner Susan Tan agreed and wrote: “HDB needs to explain: I keep my cats perfectly well indoors. I don’t live in HDB. So what is the difference between HDB and non-HDB walls that the cats can’t be contained in one but non issue in the other? FLAWED and OUTDATED law HDB!!!!”

“Punish irresponsible cat owners who let cats roam freely without supervision who live in any form of housing! Don’t punish all cat owners by banning cats for those who live in HDB flats,” she added.

A number of netizens also responded to Stomp’s article on the hot-button issue.

One commenter, Anastasia, said: “In my area (Yishun), there is a dog fight every day.”

Meanwhile, Lena wrote: “Cats are so quiet, you don’t even know they exist…unlike dogs.”

Another commenter, Rasyid, added: “Yes! Of course not happy…then when a dog keeps barking throughout the night, why do they not consider this kind of nonsense?”

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Where there used to be lively crowds, Rochor Centre is now a ghost town to Bryanna Koh, 16.

“I have lived here all my life. I have so many fond memories of my home, and it has never been so quiet,” she said.

By the middle of next month, Bryanna and her family of five will possibly be the last household to depart the iconic Rochor Centre, which will be demolished to make way for the North-South Expressway.

Twenty-two households still remain, Central Singapore District Mayor Denise Phua told The Sunday Times.

There were 567 households living in the four Housing Board blocks previously. Of these, 504 chose to take up replacement flats in Kallang Trivista.

The number of holdouts continues to dwindle. At 10pm last Thursday, 10 units in Rochor were lit up at night, showing signs of daily life in the four multi-coloured blocks. This contrasts with about 30 units lit up at the same hour on Dec 20.

Bryanna said she grew up in a tight community of Rochor residents and shopkeepers.

“My favourite place was this friendly shop which sold Buddhist offerings downstairs. When we were young, the uncle passed us old clothes that they no longer wanted,” said Bryanna, who is currently waiting for her O-level results.

Due to examinations, she could not join a barbecue party thrown by her neighbours to commemorate the end of Rochor Centre. With most neighbours having left, she said: “It feels lonely here now.”

The family busted the original deadline of Dec 30 due to the late collection of the Kallang Trivista keys, said Bryanna’s mother, who wanted to be known only as Mrs G. Koh.

Said Mrs Koh, who has lived there for two decades: “HDB gave us an extension till March to move out, though we will probably be able to move out in February after the renovation at Kallang is complete.”

She said the keys were ready in August but there were delays in submitting the paperwork to HDB.

Read also: Rochor residents in rush to move out

An HDB spokesman said it considered the circumstances of Rochor residents who asked for an extension and would work with them to vacate their units.

Said Mrs Koh: “I feel privileged to be the last one to leave Rochor. I can’t bear to say goodbye too.”

While a small number of households still live in the blocks, municipal services at Rochor Centre are still available. All corridor lights remain lit through the night, even on floors where the residents have left.

Cleaners from the Jalan Besar Town Council still work daily, especially at the common refuse disposal on the fourth floor, to remove hazardous trash generated by the mass exodus of residents, such as broken glass and sharp objects.

Ms Phua, who is an MP for Jalan Besar GRC, said several agencies – the Jalan Besar Town Council, HDB, National Environment Agency and the Singapore Police Force – responded to her appeals to continue serving the remaining residents.

Said Ms Phua: “The situation is not without challenges because an estate that is emptying may attract more dust and pests. It takes a village to make things work.”

This article was first published on January 08, 2017.
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Say “Little India” and some things may come to mind.

Super-packed 24-hour shopping paradise Mustafa. Iconic eateries such as Komala Vilas and Muthu’s Curry. Pedestrians with an elastic understanding of traffic rules. Crowds of foreign workers who hang out there on weekends.

Most people would agree it is gritty and colourful at the same time.

But Mr Roy Goh Hin Soon wrote in to The Straits Times Forum, saying that as a “tourist belt”, Little India is “not as organised as Chinatown”.

In his letter, he said narrow walkways in the neighbourhood are safety hazards and added that local businesses that operated in the area had no relevance to tourism.

Furore resulted. Comments defending the area shot back from Singapore readers and discussion raged on social media. Many said Little India was unfavourably compared with Chinatown, which they felt lost its character after heavyhanded overhauls that took place there in the 1990s.

“Artificially creating a hawker street in Chinatown is what completely killed the authenticity of the place,” says tuition teacher Junie Tang, 46, who used to work out of Chinatown six years ago.

“Sure, it might have nice buildings, but tourists are looking for the real deal – they can see a constructed set-up from a mile away.”

Maintaining an authentic experience requires putting local community interests before those of tourism, says Dr Chua Ai Lin, president of the Singapore Heritage Society.

“Heritage is cultivated over time and is something that cannot be re-created. That authenticity is what people – both locals and tourists – relate to,” she adds.

“It is not to say that heritage spaces cannot be improved over time, but this should not be done at the expense of the people, functions and interactions which give a place its recognisable character.”

Tourists seem to agree. In Little India, The Sunday Times spoke to Ms Marissa Lee, a 19-year-old American college student who was visiting Singapore with her family.

She says: “This neighbourhood makes me truly feel like a part of Singapore – you can get so many different dishes and the colours and smells are amazing. Who wants to visit another air-conditioned mall? I would much rather walk around here, preferably with a nice mango lassi.”

For the area’s local businesses and residents though, Little India will always be home, whether or not they profit from the tourist dollar.

Five faces from the neighbourhood talk about why they feel such a deep belonging and why they love it – just the way it is.

http://players.brightcove.net/4800266888001/default_default/index.html?videoId=5271497502001

Read also: Little India isn’t messy, it’s authentic

Heritage neighbourhood gentrifying at its own pace

If you look at the freelancers who dock at co-working space Workhouse, you would not say Little India is hyper-local and unattractive to foreigners.

Stepping into the shophouse space in Upper Weld Road, you are likely to see an international crowd tapping away at their laptops.

They could be working on an online grocery start-up (HappyFresh), organising a music festival (Neon Lights) or just stopping by to check their e-mail messages while backpacking through Singapore.

About 70 per cent of the clients are expatriates, says Workhouse owner Kunal Pawa, 30.

In response to a letter calling for a cleanup of Little India to appeal more to tourists, he says the neighbourhood is gentrifying at its own pace.

Various hip businesses have opened, such as a string of trendy cafes along Jalan Besar, an animation school in Veerasamy Road called CG Protege Animation School and nightlife events company Creative Insurgence in Dunlop Street.

The new shops “add to the charm of the neighbourhood in an organic fashion”, Mr Pawa says. “This heritage neighbourhood doesn’t need any heavy-handed changes made to it.”

Software engineer and entrepreneur Dominique Kon, 43, has been working out of Workhouse for the past two years because he likes the central location and food options.

There is a misconception that Little India is busy and noisy all the time, he adds.

“The area is actually very quiet for the most part, with people just going about doing their own work.

“This makes it fascinating to tourists and expatriates – it is so different from the rest of Singapore, yet it has its own energy.”

Vibrancy draws young businesses

Full-time footballer Zulfadli Zainal Abidin is no stranger to the Little India district. Since he was 15, he has trained at Jalan Besar Stadium.

When the Warriors FC left-back player got married in January last year, he bought a four-room Housing Board flat in nearby Bendemeer. Four months ago, he moved his halal dessert shop Zulos Cafe from Clementi to Syed Alwi Road.

He runs the 700 sq ft cafe, which specialises in waffles and churros, with his wife Nur Sherillin Mohamed Jabbar, 27. Its neighbours are traditional provision shops and car mechanics.

She says Little India is “very vibrant and still has a lot of untapped potential” for young businesses looking to set up shop there.

“A lot of older, mature neighbourhoods already have big players that are established there, so it’s no surprise that many young entrepreneurs are attracted to Little India.”

Her husband, who turns 29 this year, refers to their neighbourhood as a “mini United Nations”.

The backpackers and tourists who stay in the area make up a sizeable part of their clientele.

She adds that assumptions that the area is dirty or unsafe are unfounded. The couple have also made friends with many foreign workers who live nearby.

“Some of these men have helped us without expecting anything in return, going so far as to carry items and move heavy equipment when they saw us struggling to do it alone,” she says. “This neighbourhood is very warm.”

Diners undeterred by “messiness”

When third-generation hawker Li Rui Fang decided to quit her job at a Japanese multi-national company to take over her father’s prawn noodle stall four years ago, she ventured away from his original location in Whampoa and open at Tekka Centre in Little India instead.

“I was looking for a new location and was contemplating Chinatown. But after visiting Tekka, I stopped looking,” the 33-year-old says. “I loved how spacious the place was and how it was central and minutes away from an MRT station. I was sold from the get-go.”

Today, the young hawker runs the new stall with her parents – the outlet in Whampoa is managed by her aunts – and starts selling food at 6.30am.

“I am here by 2am every day to start my preparations and, though the area is quiet, I have never felt unsafe,” she says. “Cleaners are also regularly cleaning up the area, which has helped keep the space more neat and hygienic.”

When asked about Little India being deemed too messy and disorganised to attract visitors, Ms Li says many of her local customers travel from far and wide to eat at Tekka Centre.

Tourists, in turn, are often drawn to stalls with long lines and are more open to trying out unconventional food when they see locals tucking into the dishes.

“I do agree that ventilation and cleanliness can be improved in Tekka Centre, but enforcement is already under way to try and make that happen,” she says, mentioning that there has been word about the food centre undergoing a renovation in the near future.

“A place like Little India that sees such a high volume of people is undoubtedly going to get a little crowded sometimes, but neighbourhood means a lot to Singaporeans of all races. I don’t think it needs to be changed too much. It is fine as it is.”

Restaurant rooted in Little India

In its 21-year history, North Indian restaurant Jaggi’s has been nothing but loyal to Little India.

It has moved around several locations, but stayed in the neighbourhood, starting from a small shop in Kerbau Road in 1995.

Two years later, it moved into a shophouse in Race Course Road. Regulars will probably be most familiar with this address as the restaurant stayed here for 19 years. Its no-nonsense, canteen-like atmosphere belied the authentic Punjabi dishes. Its specialities include butter chicken and masala chai.

Now, that outlet is temporarily closed for renovation and Jaggi’s has moved around the corner to a shop in Chander Road, where it will remain until the end of the year.

Owner Gurcharan Singh, 57, says his restaurant will always have a presence in Little India. Jaggi’s also has two outlets in the Central Business District.

He says: “No other place in Singapore has the same authenticity and vibrancy as this neighbourhood. It’s one of a kind.

“People who visit Little India regularly have their routines – they have grocers they prefer and restaurants they love, many of which have been in Little India for decades.”

Mr Singh, who is also vicepresident of Indian Restaurant Association Singapore, knows of the suggestion by a letter writer to “clean up” Little India so it becomes a more palatable tourist destination.

He agrees insofar as infrastructure is concerned, such as having a centralised bin disposal area. But he thinks the Government should leave the businesses, even the ones not catering to tourists, alone.

“The buildings in this area are truly part of our heritage – these were built at a time when Singapore was just coming up and industry was just starting,” he says.

His oldest son Jagwinder Singh Nerwal, 31, who helps run the family business, says overzealous overhauls could turn off Singaporean customers. Half of Jaggi’s clientele is local, he adds.

“The attraction of Little India is that it is not only traditional, but also multi-faceted and diverse. Being too heavy-handed for the sake of organising the area for tourists may drive away local business from shops and restaurants.”

Sense of community rarely found elsewhere

Mr Vikneshwaran Kobinathan, 29, is a programme manager at local indie cinema The Projector. For the past 19 years, the film geek has been living in Little India, in a four-room Housing Board flat just behind Tekka Market, with his family.

The bachelor says he cannot imagine living anywhere else. One of the reasons is the area’s authenticity, its “organised chaos”.

“Here, you can find a grocer next to a sari shop which is next to a mechanic or a temple. It isn’t sanitised like what we have come to expect from so much of Singapore.”

It is also multicultural. He says: “To this day, people are surprised when I tell them my immediate neighbours are Chinese or that many old businesses in the area are operated by Chinese and Malays.”

But he has not always been this passionate about his neighbourhood. When his family moved from a landed property in Sophia Road to the Tekka flat, he admits to missing his old home deeply. “I felt a bit uncomfortable telling people where I lived, especially when schoolmates or strangers passed snide judgments about the neighbourhood.”

And while he still receives the occasional insensitive comment about his neighbourhood being messy, he has decided to focus on the positive. He feels a deep affection for the old shops of his childhood, which are still surviving, such as the barbershop at Little India Arcade where he has cut his hair his whole life.

“Residents and business owners know one another personally, whether it’s the guy I buy sandwiches from or the cobbler who mends my shoes. It’s a sense of community that is rarely found anymore in urbanised Singapore.”

This article was first published on Jan 08, 2017.
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The Films Act and the Broadcasting Act will be amended this year to take into account changes in technology, said Minister for Communications and Information Yaacob Ibrahim.

Dr Yaacob said in an interview with Malay daily Berita Harian, published yesterday, that the Government has a duty to ensure what is accessible here does not undermine racial and religious harmony or national security.

What is and is not a film has become less clear over time, he added, noting that smartphones can now shoot videos, for instance.

“Anybody can be a film-maker. Films can be distributed and transmitted via the Internet. It’s a totally different regime,” he said.

New services such as Netflix, a paid subscription service offering movies online, have also become popular and are now in Singapore.

The changes to the law will ensure that content ratings of streaming sites are in line with Singapore norms, he said.

“People don’t watch movies in the theatres any more. They watch movies in their home, over the Internet, through their TV,” said Dr Yaacob.

“How do we ensure the content meets our standards? Those are the things we have to look into.”

Such trends mean that an update of the laws regulating films in Singapore is timely, the minister added. However, he acknowledged that some items such as videos on YouTube will be difficult to regulate.

In the interview, Dr Yaacob also talked about two other priorities for his ministry this year. They are: to introduce the cyber-security Bill to build up Singapore’s defences, and to develop manpower to meet the needs of the infocomm technology (ICT) industry.

Singapore currently does not have a law governing cyber security.

The new law, when passed, will give the Government powers to audit sectors and make sure they have cyber defence systems in place. It will also spell out what powers the Government can have in the event of a large-scale cyber attack, for instance.

“Suppose there’s an attack taking place, a big hack or a DDoS (distributed denial-of-service) attack in our power sector.

“What are the powers… the minister has to ensure we can work together with the sector to face the challenge as quickly as possible?” said Dr Yaacob on what the upcoming law will cover.

His ministry will also ensure that there is a steady stream of trained graduates from the universities and polytechnics, as well as people switching careers, to fill the jobs created in the ICT industry. It already faces a shortage of manpower.

“By 2020, we’ll create 30,000 jobs but we need people for those jobs. We need to make sure there’ll be enough Singaporeans to come in,” said Dr Yaacob.

This article was first published on January 08, 2017.
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He oversees a school system that has just been ranked No. 1 in a prestigious international benchmarking test, but Education Minister in charge of schools Ng Chee Meng is filled with “divine discontent”.

There have been many attempts to explain the No. 1 ranking in mathematics, science and reading that 15-year-olds here recently achieved in what is dubbed education’s World Cup – the Programme for International Student Assessment (Pisa) conducted by the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development.

Education experts worldwide have put Singapore’s success story under scrutiny and concluded that it is down to rigour, coherence in policy implementation and a culture that prioritises academics. But Mr Ng says the “secret sauce” is the 33,000-strong teaching service.

A 2010 report by global management consulting firm McKinsey praises Singapore’s pool of great teachers, achieved by making teaching appealing to its top students with competitive salaries, rigorous training and opportunities to grow professionally.

Clearly proud of the “army” under his purview, Mr Ng says: “Education ministers from other countries often ask me what are the key ingredients. I tell them that we have forward-looking policies and good systems in place. But really the key thing is our teachers and the first-rate work they do.

“You can have the best policies, but without the commitment and dedication of teachers, we will not be able to deliver real outcomes.”

But he admits that not all is right, hence his “divine discontent”, a phrase Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong used in his National Day Rally Speech to urge Singaporeans to never rest on their laurels.

Part of Mr Ng’s concern stems from complaints by employers and company chiefs, who say Singapore workers, despite being technically good and hardworking, do not think out of the box and lack the derring-do to push boundaries.

He feels it is fair criticism and agrees there is a need to break away from the shackles of some parts of local culture – the kiasuism (being afraid to lose out) and kiasism (being timid). Especially when the world is changing so rapidly and disruption is happening all around. “What has afforded success for one generation, may not for another,” he says.

He stresses that to thrive in the new economy, Singaporean workers need to move up the value chain. “So an engineer, instead of just being able to work complex machinery, should be able to design one.”

NURTURING FROM YOUNG

So, how does Singapore create workers who can create value?

By nurturing the “entrepreneurial dare” in young Singaporeans.

Mr Ng is quick to add that he does not mean all Singaporeans should become entrepreneurs or businessmen. “It’s a mindset. An attitude of wanting to do better, find break- throughs, of wanting to innovate. If I were to use a Hokkien word, it would be chiong, not a reckless chiong, but taking into account the risks involved and doing it anyway.”

The nurturing has to start from young, in school.

He has looked at the education systems of the United States and Israel, two nations known for innovation and entrepreneurship. What struck him is the informal learning that goes on alongside the formal learning in their schools.

To explain how informal learning can nurture the traits and qualities making up “entrepreneurial dare”, he brings up examples from local schools. One is the so-called “makerspaces” cropping up in schools which teach design thinking to all students. “It’s an environment for kids to explore, to create. In the process, some may fail, but failing is part of the route to success,” he says.

A WALL OF OPPORTUNITY

Another example is the 9m climbing wall in Hougang Primary. Pupils from Primary 3 onwards get to try climbing during PE.

Mr Ng says: “It’s just a wall, but it presents so many opportunities to learn things like grit and resilience, cooperation, because you depend on your schoolmates, the belayers who secure climbers at the end of the rope. In the process, they learn how to work as a team, cooperate, communicate and rely on each other. These are the qualities caught through sports like this. It’s difficult to do this in the classroom.”

He urges parents not to constantly smoothen the pathway for their children, but to allow them to fail and try again. “I am a parent with two daughters, so I know how parents feel. But we all need to take a step back and think if we are really helping our children…

“Parents may have the best intentions, but imagine if this is aggregated over 10 years, until the child is 16 or 18. The child may not have had the necessary experiences to know how to bounce back from failure, a tenacious attitude to overcome obstacles and succeed in life.”

He urges a paradigm shift, away from the unhealthy focus on exam grades and getting into top schools. “We all have to ask ourselves: Ultimately, what is education’s mission? Is it about exam results? Is it about reaching No. 1 on Pisa? The answer must be ‘no’. It’s really about helping our children discover the joy of learning and preparing them for the future.”

He admits being bothered by the “niggling Pisa question” – why is it that Singapore, despite doing so well in these global tests, does not go on to produce prize-winning scientists, innovators and entrepreneurs such as Steve Jobs? Yet, the US, which is placed much lower than Singapore in such tests, produces world leaders in many fields.

Mr Ng goes back to Deputy Prime Minister Tharman Shanmugaratnam’s response to the same question, when it was posed by CNN journalist Fareed Zakaria several years ago. Mr Tharman had said that, unlike the US, Singapore was an exam meritocracy, not a talent meritocracy, and the US had a culture of learning that challenges conventional wisdom. “These are the areas where Singapore must learn from America,” he said.

Mr Ng highlights notable Singaporeans, including Ms Olivia Lum who founded the water treatment firm Hyflux, Mr Sim Wong Hoo who invented the Sound Blaster sound card and founded Creative Technology, and Raffles Institution student Deanna See who last month won a US$250,000 (S$360,000) prize funded by Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg for her homemade video explaining antibiotic resistance. And declares: “Never say never. I am optimistic. In another 10, 20 years we may have a Joseph Schooling equivalent of a scientist from A*Star…

“The thing is, how do we increase the probability of this happening?

“The way to do it is to keep the academic rigour but build in our students the X-factor – that entrepreneurial dare.”

FROM FIGHTER PILOT TO EDUCATION MINISTER

Education Minister (Schools) Ng Chee Meng rose from fighter pilot to become Chief of Air Force and then Chief of Defence Force before entering politics in 2015.

He went to the former Hua Yi Primary, The Chinese High for four years, and then Hwa Chong Junior College (the latter two are now Hwa Chong Institution).

He received the Singapore Armed Forces Overseas Training Award and studied electrical engineering at the United States Air Force Academy. In 2002, he obtained a Master of Arts in international relations from The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University.

He and wife Michelle have two daughters.

Q What were your co-curricular activities (CCAs)?

A Swimming and table tennis in primary school. In secondary school, the National Police Cadet Corps. I also trained to be a lifeguard. NPCC was my highlight. It was during that time that I met my wife Michelle, who was in NPCC – and who attended Cedar Girls’ – but we didn’t date then.

In junior college, I joined the Science Club, won a national schools medal in taekwondo and received my private pilot licence through the Junior Flying Club.

Q How did you cope with so many CCAs and your A levels?

A It was a major juggling act. Thankfully, I had four months to study.

Q And your favourite teacher?

A Madam Salome Chua, my science teacher in Chinese High. She was also my CCA teacher.

She provided a loving environment for a boisterous bunch of boys, and took time to share her life journey and values.

I still keep in touch with her. Her dedication and commitment to ensure we had the best outcomes were really heartwarming.

Q What was your favourite subject?

A My favourite in primary school was PE – no need to study. When I grew older, science was my favourite. Languages were never my forte.

THE EDUCATION MINISTER ON…

PSLE CHANGES

“With the wider scoring bands, students should typically have six to eight good schools with different strengths to choose from. And we are hoping that parents will look at the interests and budding talents of their children and choose schools that will nurture them in these other areas as well. We hope to shift parents’ mindsets where parents recognise that, yes, building a strong academic core is still important, but there are other aspects … that would make a big difference.”

DIRECT SCHOOL ADMISSIONS

“It was started to find different pathways for kids to express their talents in other areas. It is not for those with general academic abilities, because you have the PSLE for that. So the rationale is anchored on creating multiple pathways. And we must go back to this original rationale.”

TEENAGE SUICIDES

“I’m always saddened whenever I read of such a case. I am a father, it really saddens me.

“When we work with the Institute of Mental Health to understand the factors, psychiatrists tell us that suicide is a very complex issue and many a time it’s multi-causal.

“Academic stresses play a part, but issues like family relations and boy-girl relationships can have great impact on a young mind. So we have put in counsellors across all schools. We have trained our teachers to recognise early symptoms and do the necessary referrals. Through sports and activities, we hope to build students’ coping ability and resilience.”

This article was first published on Jan 08, 2017.
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