Society: Goodbye, dear

Banyak rusa eh, nampak [Look at the many deers],” says a man in a smartphone video, while parked on a highway shoulder, abutting the tropical rainforest. As his camera pans to track several majestic sambar deer, walking gingerly by the edge of their natural world, the thrill of discovery seizes his voice, and prods him to repetition. Look! Not one or two but many! Look at the antlers! Many deer! Look! They’re hiding inside. But he is channelling late rather than early David Attenborough; less exuberant documenter than prophet wary of decline. “OK, jadi, proof. OK, hati-hati eh, siapa-siapa jalan dekat BKE, eh [There’s the proof. Be careful, whoever’s driving on the Bukit Timah Expressway]. Harap-harap, jangan terjadi apa-apa, kalau naik motor perlahan-perlahan. Assalamualaikum. [Hopefully nothing tragic happens. Go slow if you’re driving. Peace be unto you.]”

On Monday, just days after this video was posted to the SG Road Vigilante Facebook page, his worst fears were realised. A collision between a lorry, a motorcycle, and a sambar deer left a 66-year-old motorcyclist in hospital and the animal dead—the second “roadkill” this year (both along Mandai Road). The sambar, a vulnerable species which can grow up to 2.7m in length and weigh up to 546kg, is thought to have been wiped out in Singapore, through hunting and tree felling, by the 1950s. Several escaped from zoos in the 1970s. A 1997 report by the Nature Society (Singapore) suggested there were three in the wild. A 2021 study indicated that the population had grown to 15, and a 2023 one, using data from motion-activated cameras, spoke of a resurgence, a boon to our ecosystem for many reasons, including seed dispersal.

In keeping with the ironic artificiality that is SG ecology, the construction of the sprawling new Mandai eco-tourism hub resulted in the clearing of 60ha—equivalent to roughly 120 football fields—of the sambar’s habitat, perhaps forcing it elsewhere. Will it once again escape from the revamped zoo? Collapse, captivity, liberation, rehabilitation, collision, and farce. The sambar’s story is Singapore’s. As we mourn this one deer, we should ponder our essential interconnectedness to all beings, cheer our gallant videographer-protectors, and, while moving along the margins of our constructed, concrete world, always remember: nampak. Look.

Some further reading: In “Singapore is not AI: technonature and agentic ecologies”, a new piece in our second print issue, Charmaine Poh contemplates how we can renegotiate our relationship to the natural world, and become better companions to one another, human and more-than-human. Buy the print issue now.

Society: Eye in the sky

The march towards a surveillance-ridden, privacy-shorn dystopia continues. Last week, the Central Police Division arrested 194 people in Little India following an “anti-vice” operation conducted with the help of two drones. The drones “were being operated covertly by police officers from a nearby vantage point overlooking the rows of shophouses lining the streets,” breathlessly reported The Straits Times (ST). In the last decade, drones, or Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs) have become key to all local policing aspects–most notably in locating a hiker lost in the Clementi Forest three years ago. 

And yet, there are larger concerns. Do we really want flying government robots infesting our skies? Do we know what data they are collecting, how much of it they are collecting and how long they’re storing it for? What is that data being used for? None of these concerns are new—the Singapore Police Force (SPF) has been using drones since 2014. Nor are they unique to Singapore—police departments in some American cities have been criticised for their extensive drone programmes. Neither is SPF’s use of drones the most egregious—India deploys them to target dissenting civilians.

However, what’s worrying are our reflexive surrender of privacy for security; the presence of privacy laws that exempt state agencies; the lack of a robust civil society; and the absence of a sustained public discussion on the use of increasingly sophisticated technologies to acquire personal data. Consider that drones are not alone. CCTVs, fingerprints, facial recognition, invasive apps—all digital sentinels of the physical panopticon we already inhabit. Eight years ago, a Redditor asked: “Why don't Singaporeans seem to care about personal privacy rights?” The ensuing discussion centred on an ingrained acceptance of government interference in private lives, and a deep-seated trust that the state will protect, not abuse, its citizens’ privacy. One user said: “Singapore is basically Sim City, but being played by a benevolent player.” Another responded: “Would the next player really be benevolent?”

Society: The entrepôt’s entrepreneurs

Arms, drugs, humans, wildlife—these are the more recognisable forms of illicit trade that our free port enables. This week we were reminded that there are many more. In 2005, Ng Teck Lee, 39, and Thor Chwee Hwa, his 36-year-old wife, fled Singapore while the Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau (CPIB) was investigating shenanigans at Citiraya Industries, where he had served as CEO. Citiraya was in the business of recycling and recovering precious metals from electronic scrap, including used computer chips from the likes of AMD, Intel and Infineon. But instead of crushing the items, as his clients expected, Ng sent them overseas to black-market buyers in places like Taiwan and Hong Kong. CPIB discovered that Ng had allegedly misappropriated around 89 tonnes of electronic scrap in 2003-04; netting himself a cool US$51m (S$72m). Thor allegedly helped him squirrel away the money. He paid off staff to the tune of almost S$2m; many later served sentences.

Their scheme was first hinted at through a complaint in December 2004, following the discovery in Taiwan of a chip that was supposed to have been scrapped. In January 2005, they fled. Immigration stoplists, police gazettes, and even an International Warrant of Arrest through Interpol could not help locate them, for 19 years. But on Tuesday, Malaysian authorities caught them, before handing them over to the CPIB. Yesterday, Singapore charged them. And tomorrow, we might learn of the latest way in which crooks exploit our port city. The price of staying open, free-traders would say.

Some further reading: In “Is Singapore being used to finance wars?” we look at how arms traders from Russia, Myanmar, and North Korea use Singapore.


History weekly by Faris Joraimi

The kebaya has just been inscribed to UNESCO’s list of Intangible Cultural Heritage (ICH) this week, after a successful multinational bid by Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Brunei and Indonesia. How do you recognise a type of clothing as heritage? First, the kebaya as a garment: a “front opening top often adorned with intricate embroidery and worn with fasteners such as brooches or buttons”. This makes room for the wide variety of kebaya worn across time, place, and communities, while still acknowledging shared essential features. The designation also defines the kebaya as a craft, involving “specific skills and knowledge related to the preparation, design, selection and cutting of fabrics and accessories, as well as different sewing and embroidery styles.” Such expertise was typically handed down informally among women, although printed guides also existed for use by professional tailors and self-employed dressmakers based at home. The inscription affirms a shared regional history, not only in the cross-border work that made the nomination possible but also how it presents the kebaya as “a common cultural element that transcends ethnicity, religion and borders.” A far more diverse and broad-minded image, certainly, than that of the kebaya soon to be popularised by upcoming Mediacorp Chinese drama “Emerald Hill”, a spin-off of the much-acclaimed “The Little Nyonya”. On Wednesday, Mediacorp announced that Netflix had acquired the series, so Singapore’s bizarre imagination of history—where Chinese Peranakans spoke Mandarin instead of Malay, Hokkien, or a mix of both—can be sold to the world.

In a sense, this ICH recognition builds on a pre-existing trend of the last couple of decades, changing the kebaya from something that people wore unconsciously as part of their everyday practice, into a “heritage” costume. Peranakan vogue is just one part of the story, and it certainly hasn’t stopped evolving from what my grandmothers wore. Collectors, researchers, designers, and independent interest groups across the region have been organising events, exhibitions, and publications around their beloved garment. This owes as much to the kebaya’s enduring style and appeal as to its “traditional” value. The ICH designation doesn’t entail any binding obligations on the countries involved, so communities and institutions will decide how to honour the recognition in ways meaningful to them. In typical fashion, Singapore’s National Heritage Board is planning to make themed merchandise, including kebaya keychains. Coming soon to a heritage-chic boutique store in Katong?


Arts: ‘I have got many awards, but this is the one, this is the one for me.’

The Cultural Medallion, that is. Ghanavenothan Retnam, the first Indian classical musician to receive the award, sobbed when he got the call. The flautist and composer was last week bestowed Singapore’s highest honour for the arts. The 63-year-old, resident music director at Bhaskar’s Arts Academy and also the founder of the country’s first Carnatic flute ensemble, made his name through years of experiments in cross-cultural composition. His work blends elements of Thai, Chinese and Indonesian music with Indian classical styles, and focuses on “collaborating without jeopardising the genre of the music”. He’s a musical magpie, gathering inspiration not just from the familiar refrains of folk songs, but also the rhythms of the natural world, his flute aflutter with the wings of birds and the caresses of the wind. Just don’t call it fusion. “I never say fusion music,” he told ST, “fusion is always confusion.” 

Retnam joins over 130 artists who’ve received the accolade since it was initiated by the late Ong Teng Cheong, former president and ardent arts patron, in 1979. The other recipient this year was realist painter Siew Hock Meng, who didn’t cry when he received the news. “I deserve it,” said the 82-year-old with a shrug. “Frankly, I am already very old, so there were no surprises there.” Siew’s landscapes and portraits, unctuous with colour, unerring with light and shadow, have been shaped by his lifelong philosophical pursuits, which have taken him from Aristotle to Marx and Mao. Frustrated by a one-dimensional art education in Singapore, he left art school in a huff and went on a re-education detour of his own doing, working on a Johor rubber plantation, joining the Labour Party of Malaya, selling eggs and breeding tropical fish. His leftist views leavened his views on painting. “Aesthetics intertwines with philosophy,” he told ST. “You ask yourself: How can I be of use to myself and society? In my view, being a painter and painting are still not enough.” 

If Siew wasn’t surprised, Tan Si En, Young Artist Award winner, certainly was; a film producer’s first-ever inclusion in this category gestures towards an acceptance of creative producers and arts administrators, and other tireless behind-the-scenes cultural workers, as artists in their own right. Tan, one of the quiet catalysts behind Singaporean and South-east Asian films that have made the international festival and awards circuit, wants to keep on “filling gaps and fostering spaces where diverse voices can be heard and celebrated”. In this case, being a producer and producing work on underrepresented communities may be exactly enough.


Tech: Ulterior Motiff?

Tech giant Figma is suing Singapore-based start-up Motiff for copyright violation. The two are competitors in the cloud-based design software industry, offering product teams and software developers UI/UX design tools with real-time collaboration capabilities. Figma, established in 2012, is a market leader with a comprehensive suite of tools and high-profile clients like NBC Universal, Spotify and Decathlon. Motiff offers similar services, at lower prices.

Figma alleges that Motiff has reproduced substantial portions of its source code, user interface, and even help center articles. The company further claims that Motiff’s product performs identically to prior versions of Figma Design and the Figma Platform. Motiff, however, says that its code was developed independently in-house. The significant price difference between the companies’ products—Motiff claims to be 80 percent cheaper than Figma—adds friction to a complex, multi-jurisdictional battle being fought in both the US and Singapore. On the face of it, this has the makings of a classic David versus Goliath story—a start-up still finding its feet going up against a behemoth with US$700m (S$939m) in revenue this year. The outcome could have far-reaching implications for how start-ups innovate and compete with established tech players—particularly if a protracted legal battle drains resources and distracts Motiff from its growth plans.

Tech: More expensive rides with better protection?

Singapore’s new Platform Workers Act, set to take effect next January 1st, aims to strengthen labor protections for platform workers, including private-hire car drivers, taxi drivers, and delivery workers. Key provisions include increased Central Provident Fund (CPF) contributions and mandatory work injury compensation insurance. According to estimates by Momentum Works, the new regulations could cost the industry around US$368m (S$493.7m) in CPF contributions over five years, with US$32m (42.9m) needed for annual insurance premiums alone. This could lead to an eight percent increase in ride-hailing prices for consumers or a 40 percent reduction in platform operators’ net revenue per booking, were they to absorb the costs.

Gojek, one of the major ride-hailing firms here, has voiced its support for the legislation but also highlighted challenges like adjusting their business model and finding suitable insurers. Gojek is also exploring partnerships (e.g., with ComfortDelGro) and loyalty programs to stay competitive. This indicates a shift from aggressive growth strategies to more sustainable business models. This reflects the broader industry struggle to balance worker protections with maintaining competitive pricing and service quality. While the easiest way for platforms like Gojek to deal with the higher cost would be to pass them onto the consumer, companies could also look to reduce the commission paid to drivers. So before you start griping about higher prices in the new year, know that the increment—well, at least some of it—is going towards ensuring that your driver is taken better care of.


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