2030: Is It Still Home When You Don't Recognise It?

I don't know about you, but at the moment, my attention is captivated by the discussion about the White Paper on Population that is the talk of town.

I've been reading the parliamentary reports in the newspapers and online, and I've also read the paper itself. It is clear that the pains have ben taken to emphasise the Singaporean core (whatever that means), maintaining a high quality of life, and the danger of looming threats, but all anyone sees -- all I see -- is that number. 6.9 million.

6.9 million!

Immediately images of being among the throngs of people at Causeway Bay in Hong Kong spring to mind and I shudder at the thought.

I'm no economist or social commentator. I don't know how to dissect the numbers, talk importantly about GDP or even propose new or better alternatives. But looking at Singapore as it is today, I am filled with a sense of dread over what is to come.

There's so much talk about a Singaporean core, but I don't understand what it means if it doesn't mean that Singaporeans make up the overwhelming majority. How would Singaporeans form the central, foundational part of society if there aren't, you know, a lot more of them around than non-Singaporeans? 

As it is, I have yet to come to terms with the fact that the Singapore today is very different from the Singapore I grew up in. Oh, it's much glossier and much more swanky, but in that process of upgrading -- a truly Singaporean aspiration -- it feels like it's lost some of its soul.

I go to the parks and I find myself surrounded by PRCs accents. I go out to shop and eat and I'm greeted and served by Filipino voices and hands. I found it particularly sad that even when I went on the Singapore Duck Tour with the kids some time back, a tourist attraction to introduce Singapore to visitors, virtually all the staff were Filipino! I've nothing against foreigners coming to seek their fortunes in this land, by the way. As a product of an immigrant society, I feel it's hypocritical to feel otherwise. I'm just wondering where all the Singaporeans have gone.

An interesting quirk of my history is that while I am certainly Singapore-bred, I'm not Singapore-born. I have parents who are as Singaporean as can be, but as it happens, I was born in UK when my father was there pursuing his further education. That's as far as my link with the UK goes. I never had a UK passport. So worried were my grandparents that I would not be able to enter Singapore that my parents only got a Singapore passport for me. I flew home at the grand ol' age of one month.

But still, by virtue of my having been born in the UK, I was considered a British national of sorts, and when I turned 21, I was asked to make a decision: to renounce my right to a British citizenship and formally become a Singapore citizen, or to take up steps to become a British citizen and give up my Singapore citizenship. At that point, I had never even stepped on British soil. Singapore was the only country I knew. It was my home and where I saw myself for a long time to come. I wouldn't say it was an easy choice, but the choice was clear.

Ironically this happened months before I was due to fly to the UK on a year-long exchange programme. Sometimes I wonder whether my choice would have been different if I had just been born later in the year. Certainly a number of my Singaporean classmates in the UK university I was at were envious of my opportunity and expressed dismay at my choice. But being away from Singapore accentuated the fact that where I was just wasn't home. I missed familiar, previously-regarded-as-tiresome traditions. I sought to reproduce the food that I missed. And I frequently found myself smiling when I heard a Singaporean accent. My ears prick up and an immediate sense of kinship is kindled.

Singapore is my home, but would I continue to regard it as so when I don't recognise it?

When I looked at fresh land use plans that had been drawn up, I tried to stifle the sigh that rose to my lips. Again, more old buildings will be torn down, cemeteries exhumed, land deforrested for homes, homes, homes. This time even some of the golf courses will not be spared.

I frequently lament the fact that of the schools that I've studied in, only one remains in the same location I recognise. Even this one school will soon be no longer as there are plans for it to move to a new location in the coming years. Of the homes I have lived in, the two which hold the most meaning for me are no longer. One was a house which has been torn down and re-built by subsequent owners, and the other was sold en-bloc. A swanky new condo now stands in its stead.

With each change, I feel less and less connection to the land -- it is all foreign to me. And it look like that trend is going to continue.

What would growing up in Singapore like be for my children? I really don't know, and at this point, I'm not sure I'm looking forward to finding out.