Singapore At Night

My strongest memory of old Singapore town is not of the morning or the afternoon but of the evening and the night. I think I am not alone in this view having asked a number of people. The night seems to bring with it a particular quality for those of us who lived in that period.

Nowadays dinner is, if you are lucky at 7.30 pm or it could even be at 8.00 pm or latest because work is so demanding. In the fifties dinner was often at 5.30 pm or at the latest 6.00 pm. Work was often over by 4.30 and unless you stay far out of town you could be back at home by 5.30 and there usually would be someone at home who would prepare and cook the meal because of the extended family.

After dinner many would sit outside their houses or rooms getting the cool air as the saying goes. By 6.60 pm the streets would begin to darken - the street lights were few and far between, if you are lucky to have street lamps. Then the front part of the houses would be plunged into darkness because those who continued to be outside did so without switching on lights while those who were inside often made do with a dim overhead bulb often yellow or warm glow, as it is described nowadays. By 7.00 pm there would be few pedestrians except for the occasional pushcart vendor hawking his food.

The centre of activity was the rediffusion set. It worked by cables that workers ran in from the street if you subscribed to the service. I think it was $5.00 per set. If you didn't have the requisite cables and there were no junction box within easy reach then tough luck, there would be no rediffusion.


There were two broadcasted channels, silver and gold. Silver was the dialect and mandarin channel while gold was the English channel. Most homes that I knew as well as the coffee shops that carried the rediffusion sets tuned to the Chinese channels. For many story telling was the chief draw. At 5.30 the famous Lei Dai Sor would narrate historical and martial arts novels in Cantonese. I was brought up on a diet of these Cantonese stories as well as the Cantonese operas that were broadcasted every Saturday afternoon. At 8.45 pm the equally famous Ong Toh would narrate similar stories in Hokkien. And, to top of a night of exciting listening there were ghost stories at 10.00 pm.

There were many avid followers of these master story tellers and it is a pity that their voices as well as narrative skills are no little recognized.

(For help on this post I would like to thank Uncle Victor and Uncle Richard).