Category: Blog

At that time, opium was not just a drug; it was a lifeline for colonial revenue, a social salve, and a devastating scourge that shaped the lives of thousands of Chinese coolies who came to Singapore to escape poverty and support their families back home.

Pagoda Street was a central hub for the “coolie trade” (indentured labour). The street was once notorious for having more than a dozen coolie trading stations. Unit 37 Pagoda Street, diagonally across, was a well-known coolie holding depot.

Number 34 was just one of many opium dens, offering a dark and crowded escape for exhausted labourers. It was a prominent establishment frequented by both the wealthy—who smoked high-grade opium in private rooms—and poor labourers, who shared pipes and consumed lower-grade dregs at a cheaper price.

Origins and the Reason for Rampant Use

The story of opium in Singapore is inextricably linked to the British Empire and the mass migration of labour from China. When Stamford Raffles established Singapore as a trading post in 1819, he envisioned it as a free port. However, running a colony required revenue.

The British administration, following models used in India and China, adopted a system known as “tax farming.” This allowed the government to auction licences to wealthy businessmen to sell specific goods—the most lucrative of which was opium (locally known as chandu).

Opium offered both physical and psychological escape. It acted as a potent painkiller for aching bodies and a temporary refuge from the harsh realities of coolie life, where dozens of men were crammed into poorly ventilated shophouses. For many, the opium pipe became their only comfort in a life of relentless toil.

How the Trade Was Conducted

The opium trade functioned as a state-sanctioned monopoly. The British colonial government controlled the import of raw opium from India and auctioned the rights to process and sell it to “opium farmers”—powerful syndicates often run by wealthy Chinese towkays, who paid substantial taxes for the privilege.

The opium was processed into chandu in government-controlled factories and distributed to hundreds of licensed opium dens across Chinatown, many of which were operated with links to secret societies.

These dens ranged widely in quality:
* High-end establishments offered private rooms and more comfortable furnishings for affluent users.
* Basic dens consisted of cramped, dimly lit spaces where labourers lay on hard wooden platforms.

By 1900, there were 550 opium shops and dens in the area.

At its peak in the late 19th century, revenue from opium constituted nearly half of the Straits Settlements’ total annual income. In effect, much of Singapore’s early infrastructure—its roads, buildings, and policing—was financed by the addiction of its poorest residents.

Impact on the Community

The social cost was immense. While the colonial government balanced its books, the community in Chinatown suffered deeply.
Economic Ruin:
Addiction was costly. A coolie might spend up to two-thirds of his wages on chandu, trapping him in a cycle of debt and poverty and limiting his ability to support family members back home.
Health Decline:
Long-term users often became emaciated and lethargic, sometimes referred to as “opium ghosts.” The crowded and unsanitary conditions of the dens also contributed to the spread of diseases such as tuberculosis.
Social Breakdown:
With income diverted to opium, families struggled. Crime increased as some addicts turned to theft or became involved in secret society activities. Opium dens were often located near gambling houses and brothels, forming an interconnected network of vice.

Coping and Mutual Aid

Despite these challenges, the community was not entirely passive. Chinese immigrants organised themselves into kongsis (clan associations) and hui guans (regional associations).

While some members were involved in the opium trade, others provided vital support, including medical assistance, temporary lodging, and funeral services for the destitute.

In the early 20th century, reform efforts gained momentum. Lim Boon Keng, a prominent Peranakan doctor, became a vocal critic of opium use. He co-founded the Singapore Anti-Opium Society in 1906, which established treatment centres offering detoxification through gradual reduction, alongside moral and social support.

The End of the Scourge

Legacy

The opium scourge officially ended, but its legacy remains etched in Chinatown’s history. It stands as a stark reminder of how the prosperity of a colonial port was built on the backs—and addictions—of its most vulnerable workers.

Today, the shophouses that once housed these dens are trendy cafés and restaurants. Yet behind their colourful façades lies a darker, more sobering past—one that should not be forgotten.

The First Overhead Bridge

Singapore’s first overhead pedestrian bridge was completed in 1964, spanning across Collyer Quay’s main road. It was a long, simple bridge built to provide pedestrians a safe way to cross the busy road between Clifford Pier ferry terminal and the Raffles Place financial hub. Many pedestrians, who were accustomed to crossing at street level, initially resisted the climb, but some enjoyed the thrill of looking down at the cars moving beneath their feet. As traffic increased in the city state, the use of overhead pedestrian bridges became a mandatory safety requirement.

As the nation grew, roads became increasingly congested with cars and buses. Pedestrian accidents, especially near schools and busy crossings, became more frequent. This led to the need for more overhead bridges across heavily used roads. The 1970s saw numerous road safety campaigns, with “Use Overhead Bridge” being one of the most prominent. However, convincing pedestrians to use these bridges was a challenge because many preferred to dash across the street rather than climb the two flights of stairs and descend on the other side. By the 1980s, improvements were made to the bridges design such as adding shelters to protect against rain and sun, use of concrete structures to minimize maintenance, and better lighting. Later enhancements included the addition of lifts and escalators at some locations, as well as planters, making the bridges more accessible and inviting. The original bridge across Collyer Quay was later replaced with something totally new.

In 1983, a new bridge across the Collyer Quay chalked up another first – it became Singapore’s first air-conditioned pedestrian bridge mall. It housed 50 retail shops and featured a spiral tower at the pier end. The elevated arcade connected two prominent locations: Change Alley—a street mall leading to Raffles Place—and the Clifford Pier ferry terminal. Today, both of these icons are gone.

Child Sacrifice Ritual Rumors
In the late 1970s, chilling rumours circulated that child sacrifices were being performed in the foundations of bridges at the time. Specifically, it was believed that entities prowled at night to kidnap children, place them in sacks, and later behead them for their heads to be buried in the bridge foundations. These sacrifices were thought to appease spirits and ensure the successful completion of the bridges. Some accounts mentioned the Benjamin Sheares Bridge as such location but any bridge construction that were works in progress at that time were not spared the warning. The rumours gained traction because of the spate of missing children during that period. If it was a ploy to serve it as a scare tactic to discourage children from going out at night, it worked. Everyone was terrified.

Change Alley
Change Alley was one of Singapore’s most famous shopping lanes. It was a bustling bazaar in a narrow alleyway packed with makeshift stalls, money changers, souvenir sellers, and hawkers. Its character was unlike any other in Singapore—noisy, cramped, bargain-filled, and lively. It was a magnet for sailors, tourists, and locals alike. The alley got its name from the “change men”—the money changers—who established shops there as early as the 1930s, catering to sailors and expatriates arriving via Clifford Pier. Besides money changers, it was also known for tailors who could sew suits within 24 hours for visiting sailors and businessmen. The redevelopment of the Raffles Place financial hub led to the demolition of Change Alley and the adjacent shophouses in 1982. It was replaced by the Change Alley Aerial Plaza — an overhead sheltered shopping arcade connecting Clifford Pier to Raffles Place MRT—opened in 1983. It was later redeveloped as OUE Link. Although modern, it never quite captured the vibrant energy of the original street bazaar.

Clifford Pier
Clifford Pier was built along Collyer Quay in 1933, named after Sir Hugh Clifford, a British colonial administrator. It served as an important gateway for immigrants, traders, and travellers, playing a key role during Singapore’s early development as a bustling port and hub. It was also the departure point for ferries to Singapore’s Southern Islands. The pier was notable for its grand design, with a roof structure comprising concrete arched trusses in a riband form. It ceased operations in 2006, as newer port facilities were constructed as part of the Marina Bay development. The Neptune Theatre Restaurant, located next to Clifford Pier from 1972 to 2006, was a notable landmark. It was known as Singapore’s largest theatre restaurant and hosted evening cabaret shows featuring topless dancers, as well as being packed on weekends for their dim sum lunches. This was the attempt to add vibrancy to Singapore’s business district during off-office hours.

Today, Clifford Pier is converted into a high-end restaurant and the former Neptune Theatre Restaurant site re-developed as part of high-end hospitality and leisure facilities within the Fullerton Bay Hotel precinct.

Saint Jack is an American film shot entirely on-site in Singapore in 1978. Today, it serves as a time capsule of a city that has changed beyond recognition. The movie captured places long vanished: the inside of the General Post Office, Paya Lebar Airport’s arrival hall, the hawker stalls beside the Singapore River, Chinatown’s back alleys—and, most memorably, the vibrant nightlife of the original Bugis Street.

The film follows Jack, a streetwise American who runs a prostitution ring for Western tourists, yet shows deep loyalty and affection for his “family.” Initially banned in 1980, it was only released in Singapore in 2006 with an M18 rating. One striking sequence shows Jack taking friends to Bugis Street, where peddlers hawk sex toys, tout albums of call girls, and where transvestites parade in dazzling fashion before being booked for the night. What made Saint Jack remarkable was its casting: locals played themselves, making the film an unfiltered record of 1970s Singapore and a raw reminder of Bugis Street’s colourful past. The full film is now available on YouTube.

Bugis: Traders and Settlers

The name “Bugis” comes from the Bugis (or Buginese) people of South Sulawesi, Indonesia. Long before the British founded modern Singapore in 1819, Bugis traders were already plying the seas in their sturdy pinisi boats. They dealt in spices, gold, forest products and textiles, establishing networks across Sulawesi, Riau, Johor, the Malay Peninsula, and beyond.

When Stamford Raffles declared Singapore a free port, the Bugis were quick to seize the opportunity. Among the earliest settlers, they built homes, docks, and warehouses, anchoring themselves around Victoria Street, Rochor Road, and Middle Road. Their reputation was twofold: skilled, shrewd merchants—and, at times, feared pirates. Over time, the area they lived and worked in became known as Bugis Village, leaving a name that still shapes the district today.

From Brothels to “Little Japan”

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Bugis Street earned another reputation—this time as Singapore’s “Little Japan.” As Chinatown’s population swelled, Japanese brothels spilled into the Bugis area. By the 1860s, European prostitutes had already crowded the streets, described in The Straits Times as “florid, blowsy… foul-mouthed harridans,” often seen loitering in doorways or brawling in the streets.

By the early 1900s, Japanese prostitutes (known as karayuki-san) dominated the area. At its peak between 1904 and 1905, more than 130 licensed Japanese brothels operated here. When licensed prostitution was abolished in 1920, the trade faded, but Bugis continued to thrive as a hub of Japanese-owned shops and eateries, a bustling spot for locals to dine and shop.

Bugis Street in its Heyday

After World War II, Bugis Street transformed to become one of Singapore’s liveliest thoroughfares. By day, hawkers sold souvenirs, pirated records, clothing, and street food. By night, the street transformed into a carnival of colour and energy.

In the 1960s and 1970s, with Singapore serving as a rest-and-recreation stop for Vietnam War soldiers, Bugis Street became world-famous. At its heart was the flamboyant nightly parade of transgender women and transvestites. Clad in dazzling gowns, stilettos, and bold make-up, they flirted, joked, performed, and mingled with crowds of both locals and foreign visitors. Western tourists—especially soldiers and “ang mohs”—were their favourite customers, often eager to join the fun.

Writers and travellers waxed lyrical about the street. Dutch writer Francis Downes Ommanney once called Bugis Street “one of the most beautiful streets in the world,” with an “irrepressible vitality.” To many, it was better known by its nickname: Boogie Street.

The Clean-Up and Redevelopment

By the late 1970s, Bugis Street’s notoriety clashed with the image Singapore’s leaders sought to project. With plans for new housing, commercial projects, and an MRT line, the government began clearing the area. In the early 1980s, hawkers were relocated, the old streets were demolished, and Bugis Street’s famed transgender nightlife vanished almost overnight.

By the mid-1990s, Bugis Junction rose on the site—an air-conditioned retail complex that preserved restored shophouse façades under a giant glass canopy, billed as the world’s largest “air-conditioned street mall.” It enveloped the former Bugis, Malay, Malabar and Hylam Street. It attempted to evoke the atmosphere of old Bugis, though in a much sanitised form.

By the mid-1990s, Bugis Junction rose on the site—an air-conditioned retail complex that preserved restored shophouse façades under a giant glass canopy, billed as the world’s largest “air-conditioned street mall.” It enveloped the former Bugis, Malay, Malabar and Hylam Street. It attempted to evoke the atmosphere of old Bugis, though in a much sanitised form.

Today, the Bugis Street Market at the New Bugis Street is a magnet for youth and tourists, offering cheap fashion, snacks, and souvenirs in narrow, bustling lanes. In the 1990s, the now-defunct Boom Boom Room cabaret, where comedian Kumar began his career, carried on a piece of the Bugis Street spirit in one of the shophouses.

Bugis Today

Bugis has evolved into one of Singapore’s busier shopping and lifestyle districts, anchored by Bugis Junction, Bugis+, the InterContinental Hotel, and the National Library. To most visitors, there is little trace of its wild, colourful past. Yet, films like Saint Jack peel back the layers, reminding us that beneath today’s gleaming malls lies a history that was messy, vibrant, and unapologetically alive.

If you stand at Smith Street in Chinatown, you probably have three questions in mind. First, what is Starbucks doing in Chinatown? Second, why is Smith Street called Chinatown Food Street with a glass roof above the closed road? And third, why is Smith Street the only street in the area named after a colonial figure?

Let’s start with the first question about Starbucks. Starbucks has very little to do with Chinatown’s history—it’s more likely just a competitor to Nanyang Old Coffee, located a little further down, or among the newer cafes that have recently sprouted. Today, Starbucks and joints like McDonald’s are everywhere. However, establishing a flagship store right in the heart of Chinatown’s historic streets can be seen as not a particularly positive sign—an indication of Chinatown’s waning image as a Chinese heritage site. For Starbucks, at least their effort to incorporate murals inside and outside the store helps it to blend into the area’s cultural vibe. The address at 37 Smith Street has seen various Chinese food tenants over the years—from an early tea house to Fatty Weng, and most recently Hao Lai Wu, a Chinese steamboat and BBQ restaurant that closed after less than a year. The current Chinatown Food Street initiative aims to revive the vibrancy of this iconic street, attracting more visitors. Institutions like the SLA, STB, and URA are seeking ideas and looking for a lead tenant to breathe new life into a street still recovering from the impacts of the Covid-19 pandemic.

This brings us to the second question: why is there a roofed street? Historically, Smith Street was the epicentre of Chinatown’s entertainment scene. It was home to an 834-seat Chinese opera theatre at No.36, highly popular in the early 1900s, serving as one of the few major entertainment venues of that era. It was the place to see and be seen, attracting the well-to-do and social elites. It is not surprising to note that, in 1901, at least 25 brothels were operating along Smith Street. Its principal attraction, however, was the lively convergence of street vendors and hawkers, offering food and goods throughout the day and night—earning it the reputation as the “street that never sleeps.”

When the Kreta Ayer Complex (now Chinatown Complex) was completed in 1983, many hawkers and traders—including night market vendors along Smith and Trengganu Streets—were relocated there for hygiene and safety reasons. Unfortunately, this clean-up made Chinatown feel sterile and uninviting, as its vibrant street life is now tucked away into sheltered stalls. To revive the street’s lively atmosphere, the 100-meter stretch along Smith Street was converted into Chinatown Food Street in November 2001. It features hawker kiosks, shophouse restaurants, and temporary street stalls showcasing dishes from various Chinese dialect groups. The southern part of Smith Street is closed to traffic in the evenings. Later, it was renovated with the addition of a glass roof, large fans, and permanent closure to vehicles, turning it into a bustling outdoor dining area until its demise in Oct 2021, post-pandemic, never recovering from it.

When the Kreta Ayer Complex (now Chinatown Complex) was completed in 1983, many hawkers and traders—including night market vendors along Smith and Trengganu Streets—were relocated there for hygiene and safety reasons. Unfortunately, this clean-up made Chinatown feel sterile and uninviting, as its vibrant street life is now tucked away into sheltered stalls. To revive the street’s lively atmosphere, the 100-meter stretch along Smith Street was converted into Chinatown Food Street in November 2001. It features hawker kiosks, shophouse restaurants, and temporary street stalls showcasing dishes from various Chinese dialect groups. The southern part of Smith Street is closed to traffic in the evenings. Later, it was renovated with the addition of a glass roof, large fans, and permanent closure to vehicles, turning it into a bustling outdoor dining area until its demise in Oct 2021, post-pandemic, never recovering from it.

Finally, why is Smith Street the only road in the area named after a European? It’s named after Cecil Clementi Smith, who served as Colonial Secretary (and later Governor) of the Straits Settlements from 1878 to 1893. Coming from Hong Kong, he was tasked with addressing the rampant secret society activities in Chinatown. Smith understood the Chinese psyche and skilfully negotiated to ease tensions among rival clans and societies—many of which had clashed violently. He established the Chinese Advisory Board in 1889-1890, acting as an intermediary between the government and the Chinese community. His success in quelling conflicts earned him respect and admiration. He also introduced the Queen’s Scholarships in 1885, funded by the British government, to encourage talented local boys to pursue higher education in Britain. Over the years, many scholarship recipients returned as doctors, lawyers, and teachers—contributing significantly to society. So respected and loved was he that upon his retirement, the local community petitioned to keep him on as governor. Naming this street after him recognises his lasting contributions to the community and the broader development of Chinatown.

At the corner of Kandahar Street, adjacent to Muscat Street, stands a restaurant with a prominent signboard reading “MINANG,” with the font styled after the distinctive buffalo-horn-shaped roofs of the Minangkabau architecture. Above it, a smaller sign indicates the full name: Rumah Makan Minang. This beloved eatery is a go-to destination for authentic Minangkabau cuisine, referred to as Nasi Padang, and it boasts a history of over 70 years at its current location. Nearby, a close competitor, Warong Nasi Pariaman—with a slightly longer history—also attracts patrons. However, Rumah Makan Minang captures attention with its eye-catching signboard and reputation.

The Minangkabau are an indigenous ethnic group from West Sumatra, with Padang as their cultural and administrative center. They are known for their matrilineal society, elaborate clothing, and unique cultural traditions. They are also known for their merantau culture, referring to the tradition of young men leaving their homeland to seek knowledge, experience, and opportunity elsewhere. It’s more than just migration; it’s a rite of passage, a journey of self-discovery and personal growth, with the expectation of returning to share their newfound wisdom and contribute to their community. Many have settled in other parts of Indonesia, making them one of the country’s largest ethnic groups. It is often said that if they do not succeed outside their homeland, they simply do not return.

The Minangkabau are an indigenous ethnic group from West Sumatra, with Padang as their cultural and administrative center. They are known for their matrilineal society, elaborate clothing, and unique cultural traditions. They are also known for their merantau culture, referring to the tradition of young men leaving their homeland to seek knowledge, experience, and opportunity elsewhere. It’s more than just migration; it’s a rite of passage, a journey of self-discovery and personal growth, with the expectation of returning to share their newfound wisdom and contribute to their community. Many have settled in other parts of Indonesia, making them one of the country’s largest ethnic groups. It is often said that if they do not succeed outside their homeland, they simply do not return.

The name “Minangkabau” originates from a legend explaining the two words: “Minang” meaning “victory” or “win,” and “kabau” meaning “buffalo.” The Malay version—”Menang” and “Kerbau”—is easier to understand. According to the legend, a territorial dispute arose between the Minangkabau and a prince, likely Javanese. To avoid a destructive battle, the local community proposed settling the dispute through a fight between two water buffaloes. The prince agreed and chose the largest, most aggressive bull, while the Minangkabau selected a hungry baby buffalo with horns ground into sharp knives.

At the fight pit, the baby calf, seeing the larger bull, instinctively sought milk, approaching the bull to nuzzle its udder. The bull, dismissing the small creature as insignificant, didn’t notice the baby’s sharpened horns. When the baby calf moved under the bull’s belly, its horns ripped into the larger animal, killing it. The Minangkabau thus emerged victorious, and the dispute was settled. This legend is reflected in their architecture—most notably, the upward-curving buffalo horn shape that is reflected in traditional buildings and women’s clothing, especially their head-dress.

Another distinctive aspect of the Minangkabau is their status as one of the few remaining matrilineal societies in the world. Lineage and inheritance are traced through women, who inherit property and hold significant influence in family and community decision-making. However, as times are a-change, these traditions are evolving with time.

Visitors to Sultan Mosque are likely to be captivated by its stunning architectural design. The mosque is believed to be based on the Indo-Saracenic style, which, in simple terms, combines Indian and Islamic features—such as domes, arches, and minarets—with European architectural elements. Its most striking features include the two large, golden onion-shaped domes atop the structure and four minarets at each corner. From the front, one can also observe the low cast iron railings topped with gold-pointed spikes, a detail that is somewhat unconventional for a Middle Eastern-style mosque.

Visitors to Sultan Mosque are likely to be captivated by its stunning architectural design. The mosque is believed to be based on the Indo-Saracenic style, which, in simple terms, combines Indian and Islamic features—such as domes, arches, and minarets—with European architectural elements. Its most striking features include the two large, golden onion-shaped domes atop the structure and four minarets at each corner. From the front, one can also observe the low cast iron railings topped with gold-pointed spikes, a detail that is somewhat unconventional for a Middle Eastern-style mosque.

The architecture was designed by Swans and Maclaren, one of Singapore’s oldest architectural firms. They are renowned for numerous iconic buildings in Singapore, including Victoria Memorial Hall, Raffles Hotel, Goodwood Park Hotel, and the Fullerton Building, among others.

Most guided tours or commentaries about the Sultan Mosque highlight the black band located beneath the domes. The story behind this detail is rooted in the mosque’s history: the original mosque, over a century old at that point, was in need of extensive repairs, and its size was no longer sufficient for the growing Muslim community by the early 1900s. Construction of the new mosque took place in two phases from 1924 to 1932 because funding was limited. While the British government contributed some funds, the majority had to come from the community itself. Wealthier members contributed financially, but the less well-off also played their part—by donating items such as empty soy sauce bottles, which could earn them rebates toward the building fund. When the lead architect, Denis Santry, learned of this, he incorporated a ring of soy sauce bottles around the base of the dome as a tribute to the community’s collective effort.

The soy sauce bottles story highlighted a question for the Muslim community. Is soy sauce halal? The fermentation process used to produce soy sauce does result in the formation of a small amount of alcohol, typically around 2-3%. For Muslims, alcohol is prohibited (haram), so this raises questions. However, most Muslim scholars argue that this small alcohol content is a by-product, not an added ingredient, and that the amount consumed as a condiment is minimal, making the alcohol level almost negligible. Nonetheless, some Muslims who adhere to a strict dietary regimen require absolute zero alcohol. Fortunately, many soy sauce manufacturers have addressed this concern by developing halal-certified alternatives. For example, brands like Kikkoman and Lee Kum Kee offer halal versions of soy sauce, identified by labels that indicate their compliance.

A similar quandary exists with perfumes. Western perfumes usually use alcohol to bind the fragrance oils and allow them to evaporate and project the scent. But this is not allowed for Muslims. Along Bussorah Street, there are several boutique perfume shops that sell fragrances in unique bottles and packaging. These products are often artisanal, crafted with oils rather than alcohol, and branded with detailed descriptions of the scent rather than generic product names. These non-alcoholic perfumes are specially made to meet the needs of Muslim consumers—without compromising quality or standards. Customers can simply specify their preferred scent, and expert blendmasters will create a bespoke fragrance suited to individual tastes.

So when you walk along the bustling Kampong Glam precinct, there are many more fascinating nuggets to be gleaned from its history and culture.

Were there Indian Army Sepoy soldiers on the Sri Mariamman temple?

As you enter Chinatown from South Bridge Road, you will see the towering gopuram (ornamental entrance tower) of the Sri Mariamman Temple. It is the oldest Hindu temple in Singapore and is one of its most richly decorated landmarks. The gopuram has five tiers and features three-dimensional sculptures of Hindu deities in relaxed poses. And it is said to have statues of Indian sepoy soldiers wearing khaki uniforms among the deities.

But today, it is difficult to find them on the gopuram. Some pointed to the blue figures at the corners of the second tier to be them. From afar, they do look like men (though not in uniform) holding a brown rifle. But on closer look, the blue men are actually holding long swords, partially unshielded from their brown scabbards. This detail is best observed from Pagoda Street, a street that has an unfortunate misnomer, as someone seems to mistake the gopuram to be a pagoda. So, are there statues recognising the contributions of Indian sepoy soldiers at the Sri Mariamman temple? The answer is Yes and No.

The current Sri Mariamman temple was built in 1827 by pioneer Naraina Pillai. Originally, it was a modest wood-and-attap shrine; it was rebuilt with bricks in 1843. The British East India Company had earlier allotted a plot on Telok Ayer Street for a Hindu temple, but it was deemed unsuitable because there was no nearby freshwater supply for rituals. The present site was chosen instead, likely because of the underground spring around the Ann Siang Hill area, the same water source that gave the Chinese reference of Chinatown as the Bullock Water Cart place. Originally, the temple had only three tiers but was raised to its present five tiers in 1936. There were statues of the Indian sepoy soldiers standing guard in khaki uniforms and armed with rifles included on the first tier of the gopuram. These were added by craftsmen who drew on familiar figures (including colonial soldiers) when modelling the plaster sculptures.

In the 1960s, it was decided to restore and update the gopuram with more elaborate sculptures and carvings that we see today. This resulted in the removal of the sepoy statues and their replacement with figures clad in Indian traditional costumes in 1971. There was no official reason given for the removal, but during this period, there was a general move to preserve cultural and religious symbols while removing elements considered outdated, military symbols, or that no longer suited to the temple’s aesthetic or functional needs. The National Archives of Singapore holds a photographic record titled “A statue of a sepoy being removed from the Sri Mariamman Temple in South Bridge Road” dated 17 March 1971 that shows a sepoy figure being taken down from the gopuram.

The Sepoys

“Sepoy” was the term used for Indian soldiers serving in the British colonial military. They were deployed to defend colonies in Asia, including Singapore. They were crucial for maintaining law and order, constructing defences, and clearing land for settlements. The term “sepoy” is derived from the Persian word sipahi, which has been translated into the Urdu and Hindi languages as a generic term for soldier. The sepoys were the first Indians to arrive in Singapore. When Stamford Raffles and William Farquhar landed in Singapore in January 1819, their entourage included 120 sepoys from the Bengal Native Infantry as well as a motley crew of washermen, tea-makers (chai wallahs), milkmen and domestic servants. More sepoys were deployed when there was a threat of invasion from the Dutch, who were unhappy with Raffles for acquiring Singapore as a British trading post. A total of 200 Indian troops arrived from Penang, while Farquhar managed to intercept another 485 troops returning to India from Bencoolen. The area where these soldiers were quartered (the area around the junction of Outram Road and New Bridge Road) became known as Sepoy Lines, which is now the site of the Singapore General Hospital. The name has evolved into the local Hokkien and Cantonese term “See Pai Poh” or “Sei Pai Por” for the hospital, reflecting the Chinese pronunciation of “sepoy”.

Singapore Sepoy Mutiny of 1915

The First World War brought tension to colonial garrisons across Asia. Indian regiments were unsettled: many soldiers resented the idea of fighting in Europe, where the war felt far from their own concerns. Rumours spread that Muslim sepoys might be sent against the Ottoman Turks — fellow Muslims — after the Sultan of Turkey declared a jihad against the British. He issued a fatwa, or religious ruling, calling for Muslims worldwide to take up arms against the Allied powers. Neighbouring agitators encourage the soldiers to follow the fatwa.

Singapore was no exception. The 5th Light Infantry, a predominantly Muslim regiment stationed here in late 1914, was already divided and unhappy under a deeply unpopular commander. At the same time, the Malay States Guides, another regiment, were reluctant to serve overseas.

On 15 February 1915, the crisis erupted. At a parade, four Rajput companies of the 5th Light Infantry refused orders and turned their rifles on their officers. Amid the chaos, two British officers tried to intervene — one of them was shot and killed, becoming one of the mutiny’s first casualties. The rebels marched to Tanglin Barracks, freed the German military prisoners they were supposed to guard, and clashed with local forces. Civilians were caught in the crossfire, and panic spread through the city. For a brief moment, Singapore was thrown into panic as the mutineers then roamed the streets of Singapore, killing any Europeans they came across.

Order was restored only after marines from British, French, Russian, and Japanese ships landed to support local volunteers. By 17 February, the mutiny was crushed. Even though the initial crisis was over within a short time, the mutiny lasted 10 days as the authorities carried out mopping-up operations to round up the mutineers. 44 British officers, soldiers and civilians, as well as three Chinese and two Malay civilians, were killed in the mutiny. In the course of the fighting, 56 sepoys were killed. In the months that followed, courts martial sentenced dozens of sepoys to death by public firing squad or life imprisonment. The remnants of the 5th Light Infantry were eventually sent to Africa, ironically fighting alongside the Malay States Guides — the very regiment that had also refused service abroad.

Remembering the Missing Sepoys

The sepoy statues on Sri Mariamman Temple may be gone, but their story survives — in archives, in place names like Sepoy Lines, and in memories of Singapore’s early history. They remind us of the complex role of Indian soldiers in the colony: protectors, settlers, and, in moments of unrest, rebels.

You can spot the sign from afar — “56 ARAB STREET” with %ARABICA just below. A clever play on words to catch your attention and draw you into this indie café chain. Arabica has expanded to eight outlets in Singapore, garnering rave reviews and Instagram-worthy praise from coffee enthusiasts. Originating from Kyoto, Japan, the brand positions itself differently from giants like Starbucks or McCafé, with the bold motto: “See the World Through Coffee.” The message is clear — we only live once, so let’s explore the world, one cup at a time. And despite charging higher prices than its mainstream competitors, customers seem happy to pay, convinced by the taste and experience. The coffee bean they use is Arabica, the same variety used by Starbucks and McCafé. So, what makes Arabica so desirable, and why doesn’t the local Nanyang coffee occupy the same space?

Globally, there are three main coffee bean types: Arabica, Robusta and Liberica. Arabica accounts for about 65% of the market, prized for its smoothness, mild acidity, and aromatic profile. Robusta makes up roughly 33%, known for its bolder, more bitter, and intense flavour — plus a much higher caffeine content. Arabica beans cost more as they thrive only in high-altitude, tropical environments. Vietnam is the biggest source of Robusto coffee beans at 40%.

Nanyang coffee, better known locally as kopitiam kopi, is made with Robusta beans. These beans are roasted slowly at lower temperatures, often with butter or margarine and sugar, to trigger the Maillard reaction (browning) and caramelisation. This creates a deep, robust flavour with a distinctive bitterness. The coffee is typically served with condensed or evaporated milk and brewed using a cloth coffee sock. It is also popular as the base for instant coffee and is uniquely found in the Southeast Asian region. Liberica, less common but significant in Malaysia and parts of the Philippines, is recognised for its smoky, woody aroma with a slightly fruity tone, quite similar to Robusto.

In Singapore, we have our unique way of classifying how we want our Nanyang coffee.

Kopi:                    Coffee with condensed milk (sweet)

Kopi O:                Black coffee with sugar

Kopi O Kosong:  Black coffee, no sugar

Kopi C:                 Coffee with evaporated milk + sugar

Kopi C Kosong:   Coffee with evaporated milk, no sugar

Kopi Gao:            Same as Kopi but stronger coffee (less water)

Kopi Po:               Same as Kopi but weaker coffee (more water)

Kopi Siew Dai:    Kopi with less sugar

Kopi Gah Dai:     Kopi with more condensed milk/sugar

Kopi Peng:          Iced coffee

Kopi O Peng:      Iced black coffee with sugar

Yuan Yang:          Coffee + tea mix

It’s not as complicated as it looks. Just decide if you want it black or white, sweet or less sweet, condensed milk or sweetened milk, hot or cold and how strong you want the coffee. Maybe at least not as complicated as the Western coffee.

Variations of the Nanyang coffee are:

• Ipoh Coffee: coffee beans that are roasted with palm oil margarine (or palm oil), then brewed and served with sweetened condensed milk. This unique roasting method results in a smooth, creamy, and less bitter coffee compared to traditional roasts.
• Vietnam Coffee: coffee beans brewed slowly with a phin filter (small metal filter container on top of a cup) and served with sweetened condensed milk, a combination that balances the coffee’s bitterness with a sweet, creamy texture. Popular nowadays is to mix with coconut milk.
• Indonesian Coffee: coarse coffee powder brewed with hot water directly, leaving the sediment in the cup.

Japan and China do not have a coffee culture and depend on canned coffee (for Japan) and café outlets (for China). And these are with Arabica beans.

Middle East Arab Coffee: lightly roasted Arabica beans, often mixed with fragrant spices like cardamom, cloves, and saffron to create a smooth, aromatic, and mild brew. The coffee is prepared in a pot called a dallah, boiled without being filtered to build a light foam, and served unsweetened in small cups. Caution – you sip rather than drink.

Indian Coffee: use the traditional South Indian drip method, where hot water is poured over finely ground coffee in a metal filter, allowing a rich, thick coffee concentrate to slowly drip into a bottom chamber. It is then mixed with frothed milk and sugar to create a strong, flavourful drink.

Western Coffee is more diverse, both in composition and brewing method, according to each country’s preferences. But they start with the Arabica bean espresso.

Espresso-Based Coffee:

1. Espresso- A concentrated shot made by forcing hot water through finely ground coffee at high pressure.
2. Ristretto – A shorter espresso pull with less water, producing a more intense flavour.
3. Lungo – An espresso pulled with more water, making it milder and slightly bitter.
4. Americano – Espresso diluted with hot water for a filter-coffee-like drink.
5. Cappuccino – Equal parts espresso, steamed milk, and milk foam, traditionally served in the morning.
6. Latte – Espresso topped with more steamed milk and a thin layer of foam.
7. Café Au Lait – An espresso with hot milk in roughly equal parts.
8. Flat White – Espresso with microfoamed milk, smoother and with less foam than a latte.
9. Macchiato – Espresso “stained” with a small amount of milk or foam.
10. Mocha – Latte with added chocolate syrup or cocoa powder, often topped with whipped cream.
11. Affogato – A scoop of vanilla ice cream “drowned” with a shot of hot espresso.

Brewing Methods

• Drip Coffee – Hot water passes through coffee grounds in a paper/metal filter into a pot or carafe.
• Pour-Over – Manually pouring hot water over coffee grounds in a cone-shaped filter for precision control.
• French Press – Coarse coffee grounds steeped in hot water, then pressed down with a plunger.
• AeroPress – Immersion and pressure brewing using a hand-pressed device.
• Percolator Coffee – Water repeatedly cycles through coffee grounds via steam pressure.
• Moka Pot (Stovetop Espresso) – Water is heated in the bottom chamber, steam pressure forces it through coffee grounds to produce a strong brew.
• Siphon Coffee – Uses vacuum and vapor pressure in glass chambers for a clean, aromatic brew.
• Cold Brew – Coarse grounds steeped in cold water for 12–24 hours, served over ice.
• Iced Coffee – Regular brewed coffee cooled and served over ice (sometimes sweetened).
• Nitro Cold Brew – Cold brew infused with nitrogen for a creamy texture.
• Frappé (Greek) – Coffee, water, and sugar shaken into a foamy iced drink.
• Irish Coffee – Hot coffee with Irish whiskey, sugar, and cream.

The differences in the composition mixture and the need to ensure consistency of the Western coffee necessitate the use of complex coffee-making equipment, especially for the steam milk attachment. Baristas must be trained not only to brew coffee correctly and consistently, but also to clean and maintain the equipment, as coffee is acidic and leftovers can ruin the subsequent brew. Maybe that’s why they are more costly than the Nanyang coffee, which just uses a cloth sock.

At Telok Ayer Green, you’ll find a life-sized bronze sculpture of an Indian milk vendor selling his milk to a customer. It commemorates the early milkmen and traders who once settled in the area. In fact, nearby Cross Street was nicknamed Palkadai Sadakku in Tamil, meaning “Milkshop Street,” because many milk traders gathered there.

Kreta Ayer district is one of the districts originally designated for Chinese settlers. Its name means “water cart” in Malay — a reference to the bullock carts that, in the 19th and early 20th centuries, transported water from wells at Ann Siang Hill to Chinatown. The Chinese called the area Niu Cher Shui (and its variants in the different dialects), literally “ox-cart water.” Kreta Ayer Road links Neil Road to New Bridge Road, a reminder of its working past.

In the narrow streets beside the Tekka Market you’ll find Buffalo Road and Kerbau Road (kerbau is buffalo in Malay). Belilios Lane and Belilios Road are named after I.R. Belilios, a prominent cattle trader in the 1840s. Further along is Lembu Road (lembu means cow in Malay). These names are markers of the location’s long history as a cattle-trading hub.

The cattle heartland is the Kandang Kerbau district, located where Serangoon, Selegie, Bukit Timah, and Rochor roads meet. It was once home to cattle sheds and grazing grounds — its Malay name literally means “buffalo pens.” This was where early Indian immigrants, many skilled cattle farmers and milkmen, settled because of the lush grasslands and water from the Serangoon River. The area also hosted the original Singapore Sporting Club racecourse, opened in 1843. Popular with Europeans and wealthy Chinese, the racecourse drew more workers and more cattle business to the area. By 1924, the district became known for another reason: the Kandang Kerbau Maternity Hospital, then a free maternity hospital, where generations of Singaporeans were born. The hospital moved to Bukit Timah Road in 1977, but the KK name remains iconic.

Why are so many roads named after cattle and why is it so prominent?

Many references to cattle and cows in Singapore are due to the country’s history as a hub for cattle trading and dairy farming, as well as the cultural and religious significance of the animals to the Indian community. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, the KK area was a centre for the cattle trade, with animals imported from countries like Siam (Thailand) and India to be used for meat, milk, and transportation, with dairy products mainly for the Europeans. Unlike Chinatown and Kampong Glam, Little India was never in the town plan to be set aside for the Indians. It is actually a residential area for the early Europeans, as evident in the many roads named after the Europeans who resided there. The cattle trade boomed in the mid-1800s, together with the growth of the district around the race course. It attracted Indians to come and work and stay in this area.

What about the Dairy Farm?

By the early 1900s, the milk from KK was gaining an unfortunate reputation for poor quality and hygiene. Europeans began turning to imported dairy products from Australia — but these had to be frozen during the long voyage. That’s where Cold Storage Company stepped in. Established in 1903 as an importer of chilled and frozen goods, the company ventured into dairy farming in 1932. Using a variety of grass developed in Java by Dutch scientists, they set up the Singapore Dairy Farm at the 9¼-mile mark of Bukit Timah Road (near today’s Rail Mall). They imported Friesian cows from Holland and Australia, enforced strict hygiene standards, and introduced pasteurisation, refrigeration, and modern packaging. The farm became the world’s first tropical farm to rear Friesian cows successfully. Its milk was sold under the Magnolia brand — famously packaged in pyramid-shaped cartons.

At its peak, the farm had about 800 cows. Most of its workers were Indian, trained in modern dairy practices. But by the 1970s, with imports becoming cheaper and easier, the farm ceased operations. In 1976, the Singapore government acquired the land for residential development. Today, there is the Dairy Farm Nature Park and the Wallace Education Centre that repurposes the old dairy building into a public ecological learning place. And there is only one small dairy farm existing today.

If you wandered through Chinatown or Kampong Glam, you are likely to have seen Yip Yew Chong’s murals—vivid, nostalgic scenes that bring Singapore’s past to life. You might also know his SG60 tribute near One Fullerton, where moments of yesteryear sit side-by-side with modern icons.

Yip is a celebrated Singaporean visual artist known for his nostalgic, intricately detailed murals and paintings. Over the years, he has created works across Singapore, China, and India. But the pieces he painted in Chinatown remain the most personal—rooted in his own childhood memories. Yip grew up there until 1983, in a shared two-storey shop house on Sago Lane. The building was eventually demolished to make way for HDB housing (today, the spot is a car park beside the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple).

His art is a reflection of his personal recollections, local history, cultural heritage, and everyday life—often sprinkled with whimsical touches like his recurring tabby cat, Mary. It’s no surprise his works spark nostalgia and lively conversation about how life once was.

Yet, among his many murals, one stands out as an unusual departure. At the junction of Smith Street and South Bridge Road, right in front of Thye Shan Medical Hall, a mural depicts the interior of a bustling Chinatown shop. The shopkeeper is enthusiastically promoting durians—not to a local resident, but to a fictional Japanese anime character: Detective Conan.

Who is this unexpected visitor, and why is he there?

Detective Conan is the central figure in a long-running Japanese anime about a 17-year-old student who, after being poisoned with an experimental drug, finds himself trapped in the body of a 7-year-old. Gifted with a razor-sharp mind, he continues solving complex crimes—hence the alternate English title of the series: Case Closed.

In 2019, the anime’s film The Fist of Blue Sapphire brought the pint-sized sleuth to Singapore. The movie follows Conan as he investigates a murder at Marina Bay Sands, tied to the recovery of the legendary Blue Sapphire. Premiering here on 31 May 2019, the film’s launch came with a special request: Yip Yew Chong was invited to create a commemorative mural.

He responded by seamlessly blending the anime world into his own—adding Detective Conan into the Chinatown shop scene. To mark the occasion, two of the film’s voice actors even joined in, adding the finishing touches to the mural themselves.

What emerged is a mural unlike any other in Yip’s portfolio—a rare fusion of pop culture and heritage, where a fictional detective from Japan finds himself in the heart of old Singapore, eyeing durians with curiosity.

The Merlion spotted along Haji Lane is a delightful, kawaii-style twist on Singapore’s iconic mascot—this time dressed in a sailor suit. Unlike its stern, water-spouting older cousins at the waterfront, this version sits cheerfully on a bench, inviting passers-by to take a seat for a quick chat and photo. Behind it, a quirky shop offers a whimsical “Merlion and friends” universe to explore, adding to the lane’s vibrant, hipster vibe.

Variations of the Merlion are popping up all over. In Chinatown, pastel-toned statues look more like a cat with a fishtail than a lion, while Pop Mart’s latest craze—a Labubu Merlion keychain—has their best-selling character sprouting a fish tail. These playful updates seem to signal a shift: perhaps an effort to make the Merlion figure friendlier to a younger generation, or a strategic bid to reclaim its place as Singapore’s top tourism symbol, now competing with the Marina Bay Sands skyline and Gardens by the Bay’s glowing Supertrees.

While the Merlion Park still draws crowds, tourists increasingly aim their cameras at MBS’s triple towers with its boat-shaped sky park or the Supertrees’ evening light shows. Yet the Merlion’s roots run deep. Created in 1964 as a tourism logo, it merged a lion’s head with a fish tail to reflect Singapore’s maritime heritage—an apt emblem for a nation emerging onto the world stage.

While the Merlion Park still draws crowds, tourists increasingly aim their cameras at MBS’s triple towers with its boat-shaped sky park or the Supertrees’ evening light shows. Yet the Merlion’s roots run deep. Created in 1964 as a tourism logo, it merged a lion’s head with a fish tail to reflect Singapore’s maritime heritage—an apt emblem for a nation emerging onto the world stage.

In recent years, the Singapore Tourism Board (STB) has worked to “soften” the Merlion’s image. The shift began in 2018 with Merli, a cartoon version starring in animated episodes about Singapore’s history, culture, and attractions. Merli even has four friends, including D65—an Unidentified Flying Durian piloted by six durian-shaped aliens. Today, the once fierce, water-spouting guardian has been taken over by the smiling, whiskered character designed to charm rather than intimidate—proof that even national icons can adapt to the times.