Source : The New Paper, 20 Aug 2007
Land worth: $33million
Rent: $6.50 to $30.00
Wow: Reporter Shree Ann Mathavan (left), who lived only in high-rise buildings, takes in the scene.
SMACK in the middle of Punggol, a place the Government plans to jazz up with apartments and waterfront living, is a plot of land about the size of three football fields (12,248 sq m).
Here, everything is rustic. This may well be Singapore’s last remaining kampung at Lorong Buangkok.
At first sight, the zinc-roofted colourful homes scattered haphazardly around appear rural on the outside, but within, it’s far from primitive.
Notions of an ‘ulu’ place- one which time forgot, were jolted when The New Paper on Sunday visited the kampung.
‘Ulu’, a Malay term, is used to describe a place that is economically or technologically backward
Here in Singapore, kampungs come with the works, just like any other snazzy Orchard Road condo.
From running water, electricity, to the various electrical appliances, these homes have it.
But there’s something else here that’s priceless. Peace.
It’s so quiet here, you can hear crickets chirping and chickens clucking.
Although it’s dusty, muddy and the road is uneven, the air you breathe is fresh and crisp.
You may have heard that kampung folk are always friendly. It’s true.
Despite us poking our noses into their lives, the two families we spoke were friendly and willing to help, if camera-shy.
Requests to take a tour of their homes were greeted with warms smiles and nods, not suspicious looks.
The average urbanised Singaporean, I suspect, might not be as forthcoming.
People here actually do like each other.
Stretched across the plot are 28 single-storied houses.
One resident, Mr Ter Ah Sing, 68, a retiree, estimates there are 50-odd residents living here.
Some, like him, have lived there for more than 30 years.
It doesn’t hurt that the rent they pay is low, from $6.50 to $30 a month.
Mr Nicholas Mak, Knight Frank’s director of research and consultancy said the area could be worth ‘as low as $20 million or as high as over $100 million’.
The wide range, he noted, depended on the development charge, the land zoning (which determines what the land can be used for) and the plot ratio.The plot ratio of a site is the ratio of the gross floor area of a building to its site area.
The New Paper on Sunday paid a visit to the homes of Mr Ter and Nur Farhana Hilmi, 14.
Inside Mr Ter’s house were leather couches, a television set, a dining table with chairs, two telephones (one cordless) and a cluster of family snapshots on the wall.
In the kitchen we found a washing machine, fridge, sink and stove.
Pay homage: Mr Ter(above) enjoys the freedom that comes with kampung life. He has space to burn joss paper to pay homage to deities.
The furniture didn’t look new, but thanks to Mr Ter’s diligence in painting the mint-and-cream exterior each year, the place looked well-kept.
Mr Ter, who has lived there for 35 years, agrees that life in the kampung today is ‘quite modern and convenient’.
He said the nearest convenience store and coffeeshop at Buangkok Crescent was just a 10-minute walk away.
He lives with his wife, Madam See Ah Chian, a housewife in her 60s, and daughter, Miss Ter, in her 40s.
He declined to reveal his daughter’s full name or occupation, saying she would not like to have her details in the papers.
He also has three sons - one is in the marble trade and is 45, another is a taxi-driver, 46, and the third, 48, who works in an oil company.
They have all married and moved out.
His three sons give him and his wife about $1,500 each month.His rent of $11.70, is paid by his daughter, who also meets all the household expenses.
According to Miss Sng Mui Hong, 54, the landlady, modern amenities like running water, and electricity have been in place at the kampung since 1962.
She recalled: ‘It was only in the 50s, that there were no proper roads, just yellow mud tracks and you could see people raising pigs nearby.’
Modern conveniences or not, Mr Ter insists, there are perks of kampung living that urban life can never provide.
Said Mr Ter in Mandarin: ‘I don’t want to move into a flat. For what? All I can do there is look at the walls or go to downstairs to the coffeshop and sit.
‘Here, there’s more space, the air is better, it’s easier for me to live life here, I feel free and easy.’
At his beloved kampung, Mr Ter occupies his days tending to his chilli and bougainvillea plants and regularly visiting his neighbours’ homes for a chat.
Friendly neighbourly ties are also aided by the fact that houses here are closely packed together - with each about five metres apart.
Now that it’s the seventh month, MrTer busies himself with folding joss paper.
He said: ‘We are like one family here. Everybody, Malay or Chinese, gets along very well. There’s no robbery and we trust each other.’
While they might be years apart, teenager Farhana, a Sec 2 student at Woodlands Secondary, feels just as sentimental about her village as MrTer.
Up-to-date: Farhana finds studying and keeping abreast with entertainment news a breeze in her modern kampung home. --picture| kenneth koh
While most of her peers are into trawling the shopping malls or listening to loud music, Farhana loves the peace and serenity of her village.
One of her favourite spots is the black sofa at home, because the window overlooks her mother’s garden which has about 30 plants.
Said the teenager with a toothy smile: ‘Sometimes, I take a nap there and when I wake up looking at all the green, it cheers me up.’
Farhana said: ‘Even when I grow up, I’ll still like to live here, it’s so peaceful, maybe I can even bring work home from the office to finish here.’
She lives with her mother, Madam Sharifah Rodziah, 39, a housewife, father, 40, a driver, her sister, 15, and two brothers, one 16 and the other 6 months old.
Responding to a previous media report that the kampung land was apparently worth $33 million, the jolly Madam Sharifah grew sombre.
She said: ‘I don’t think it’s worth that much. If developers want to buy over this land, of course I will be sad, I’ve lived here all my life.
‘But if that happens, what can I do? I have no choice.’
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