Earlier this year I read a book called “Sampans, Banyans and Rambutans;  A Childhood in Singapore and Malaya” ⁽¹⁾ by a man called Derek Tait. I enjoyed it very much. The author spent several years of his early childhood in the 1960s living in Johore in Malaya and frequently visited the city of Singapore close by. I visited Singapore in 2017, so it was interesting to compare the city today with the city of half a century ago.

The Republic of Singapore consists of a group of islands off the southern tip of Malaysia in South-east Asia. There is one main island and a large number of smaller islets. Singapore lies only one degree north of the Equator and has a tropical climate. Tait mentions the heavy monsoon rains and violent thunderstorms. There is a long history of settlement on the site, but the modern city has its origins in 1819, when it was acquired by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles for the British East India Trading Company.  

In 1867 Singapore came under direct rule from Britain. During World War II it was taken over by Japan between 1942 and 1945. It became self-governing in 1959, and from 1963 until 1965 was part of the Malaysian federation. Singapore became an independent city state in 1965, and Derek Tait’s family moved there that year. His father was in the British Navy. The Singapore River provides a natural harbour and it was an important naval base, with the British navy stationed there until 1971.

The first thing Derek Tait mentions about Singapore in the 1960s is the distinctive smell of rotting rubbish and raw sewage. A filthy canal ran down the centre of the city, and the Singapore River was full of rubbish, raw sewage and rats. When I visited, I was particularly struck by how clean the city was, far cleaner than London or Edinburgh. There were no bad smells at all and I noticed the large number of people employed as cleaners in public areas. I don’t remember seeing the canal, but the river mouth has been dammed and is being used as a freshwater reservoir for some of the city’s water supply. Tait mentions rats and dead dogs in the water; David Attenborough in his 2016 documentary about wildlife in big cities (part of Planet Earth II)  mentions the return of smooth-coated otters as a result of the cleaning of the waterways.

Tait’s photos show streets full of cars and rickshaws and rickety buses. In an effort to combat air pollution in the densely-populated city (7,797 people per square km), the authorities now discourage private car ownership and encourage people to travel using a very good modern bus and Metro (underground) service. I used the Metro all the time during my visit, it was clean, safe and easy to follow. None of my son’s friends drove cars, and neither of us can remember seeing a single rickshaw.

In the 1960s the mosquitos were so bad that people had to sleep under nets and burn coils of mosquito repellent at night. Mosquitos often carry dengue fever, a dangerous tropical disease, and the authorities are trying to control them. Posters on the walls of the Metro system urge people to get rid of stagnant water around their houses, where mosquitos breed. It seems to be a successful program. I only got bitten once in Singapore, on the Night Safari at the Zoo, and in the centre of town I never saw or heard a single mosquito.

Tait’s photographs show very few multi-storey buildings, but it is a city of skyscrapers today. To house the huge population, people not only have to live in small spaces, but homes and offices tend to be in tall tower blocks, except for the very wealthy indeed. One of the most expensive hotels is in two enormous slender towers linked by a roof platform containing a garden with palm trees and an infinity pool. My son lived in a shared flat in a gorgeous tower, one of a group of three towers set in a gated garden with a gym and a swimming pool. Out of the city centre there were tower blocks that looked more utilitarian, from the train at least. I did much of my shopping in excellent shopping malls, which weren’t there in the 1960s.

The authorities are committed to making it a green city.  The roads are lined with trees, grass and flowerbeds, and there are gardens everywhere, from the Singapore Botanical Gardens, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, to the rooftops of tower blocks. During Lockdown, I followed the Singapore National Parks Board on Twitter, and was fascinated by their program to encourage everybody to grow food, even if it was just a pot of salad greens beside their front door, to improve the city’s food security. It cheered me up all through Lockdown, and inspired my own micro-food-growing efforts.

One thing that hasn’t changed is the lively street life. Since accommodation even for the relatively well-off tends to be cramped and often has minimal cooking facilities, people eat out a lot at restaurants and food halls. Food halls are open areas with tables and chairs surrounded by stalls selling food and drinks. Sometimes vendors come round with carts offering drinks at your table. I personally found them great.

Given that the world is now drastically overpopulated and most of us are likely to end up living in places as densely populated as Singapore, it’s heartening to see a city making such a positive effort to make it a good place to live for humans and wildlife. How a tiny city-state with a no land or natural resources and a huge population has managed to evolve the sort of economy which can support all this is beyond me to understand. I am no economist. But from what I can pick up on an internet trawl they seem to have been rather clever.

And it’s fascinating to see how things have changed well within my lifetime. Thank you, Mr Tait.

⁽¹⁾ “Sampans, Banyans and Rambutans  A Childhood in Singapore and Malaya” Derek Tait 2006 Driftwood Coast Publishing PO Box 7, West Park, Plymouth, England, PL5 2YS ISBN 978-0-9554277-0-1