Introduction
Tasked with the theme of discovering more about Singapore, a city hub bustling with life at seemingly every turn, our group took on an unusual angle to tackle this broad topic, focusing on remembrance of the unique blend of both local heritage and history that shaped our nation- through the stories of the dead. Following the trails of the humble beginnings of Tan Tock Seng and harrowing reminders of the Japanese occupation in pre-independent Singapore, we uncover how the lives in each event have shaped our national dispositions and how death keeps these memories, legacies and Singapore's identity alive.
Graveyard Of Tan Tock Seng
Our first destination was right next to a bus stop, or rather, above it — the grave of Tan Tock Seng, one of Singapore’s significant early pioneers. Arriving in monsoon rain, we braved the heavy pour and walked up the slope to the left of the bus stop. We were first greeted by the grave of Chua Seah Neo, Tan Tock Seng’s daughter-in-law, and Wuing Neo, Tan Tock Seng’s granddaughter-in-law. This is accompanied by four large lion stone statues on the ground as well as a small mountain spirit praying site.
Walking further down a concrete-tiled path with streams of rainwater flowing across it, we then reached the grave of Tan Tock Seng. This grave is situated even closer to Outram Road than the previous — both overlook it — and has four smaller lion stone statues standing on parts of the grave. Situated in front of a forested area, with grass growing through the concrete-tiled ground, these two graves might not be the most spectacular or the most noticeable by those passing by, especially if driving on the busy road. While the rain soaked through our shoes, it also created an atmospheric feel as we stood under the umbrella, snapped pictures, and pondered.
Not much needs to be said about Tan Tock Seng for his name is one many are familiar with. He was a wealthy merchant, influential Chinese leader and great philanthropist who lived in Singapore around the times when Stamford Raffles established a trading base here. The mere name of Tan Tock Seng Hospital, which should ring a bell, already speaks to his impact. Madam Chua was buried here after Tan Tock Seng’s son, Tan Kim Ching, acquired the land, and he likely chose to move his father’s remains from his unknown burial place to here as well.
When the government widened the road to cope with more traffic in 1969, the tombs were threatened to be dug up, but Tan Tock Seng’s descendants successfully fought to keep them. The tombs were forgotten in the 1980s, then “rediscovered” in 1989. Tan Tock Seng’s descendants have been maintaining the graves since and a major sprucing up of the area was performed in 2009. Though this place may seem simple and unassuming, it contains a legacy which many have dutifully respected and protected.
Japanese Cemetery Park
In Hougang, nestled amidst rows of landed property, one can find a small park adorned with gorgeous pink floral archways, reminiscent of springtime in Japan. Beside the freestanding passageways, there lies rows upon rows of tombstones, spanning over 29,359 square meters across the land. This place, a juxtaposition of beauty and death, remains a testament to the complex legacy of World War II — One can find no other place in Singapore like the Japanese Cemetery Park.
Established in 1891 by Tagajiro Fukaki, a Japanese brothel owner, it began as a resting place for destitute, young Japanese women. Later in 1948 where Japanese residents were repatriated under the British colonial government, the cemetery remained dormant until the Official Peace Treaty in 1951. Ownership of the cemetery shifted to the Japanese Association in 1969, and only transformed into an official memorial park designated by the Singapore government in 1987. Initially starting only as a burial ground for the Japanese women, the cemetery eventually grew to hold a diverse group of individuals ranging from civilians and soldiers, to convicted war criminals executed in Changi Prison during the war. Though new burials have been disallowed, the park still stands today as a guide and reminder for visitors of the strife, suffering, and history that the war had left behind.
At first glance, the elegant structures of the cemetery park do not seem to capture the grief and solemnity that lay beneath its grounds. However, upon further exploration, the park is in fact found to be a place of remembrance and respect for the resilience of the human spirit that lived through the many stages of the park’s history. The park now stands not only as a repository of memories, but also a place of deep cultural and historical relevance to many curious to discover its secrets. While initially starting out as a humble cemetery in the early periods of Singapore’s history, it has transformed into a place of reflection and cultural exchange that highlights the profound beauty that can emerge from the most unlikely beginnings.
Thoughts On Death
Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it. On the day of the trip, the rain was strange—falling as we approached the graves, and calming when we left. We groaned at our misfortune, but perhaps it hinted at a life, a soul, a presence beyond death. Whether you believe it or not, death plays twin roles of beginning and end. The human’s life is ended, but their legacy lives on—for good or for bad. Tan Tock Seng left behind a legacy of giving, but the Japanese war criminals buried in the cemetery park left behind a legacy of suffering. Death is the root of human ambition—and progress and destruction are both derived from this root. Generation after generation, we live to die—and leave behind that legacy which we are, hopefully, satisfied with. Legacies pile onto legacies, gifts onto gifts, crimes onto crimes. Humans fear death with a passion, and though it may be justified—it is also ironic, as death renders our existence all the more meaningful, and all the more respected and thanked.
Conclusion
Death may be an idea that is constantly being brushed off in conversations, as Singaporeans are still generally very reserved when it comes to the idea of dying — after all, we are a country that has kiasi (afraid of death) as one of our national traits. However, death is inevitable to each and everyone of us, and it is a very real topic for every human living on this planet. The Disney Pixar film Coco discussed death in this way: Our loved ones may be gone, but they’re never truly gone if we remember them. Death may seem like a devastating thing to many, but what’s more important, we feel, is how the deceased are being remembered by the living, and whether their living legacy is carried on. We have the power to decide for ourselves how we want to remember someone, and cemeteries stand as a testament, each with unique stories carved on the weathered tombstones, whispering legacies and stories to whoever might want to listen.
Written by:
Yang Jiayu (HCI / 23A10)
Tan Shi Ying Marissa (EJC/ 23-O1)
Joshua Ong Zen-An (EJC / 23-U4)
Loo Hao Zhe (EJC / 23-U2)
Yap En Ting (HCI / 23A11)
Edited by:
Tay Jil-lene (HCI / 23S6T)