30 Years in Tiong Bahru: Memories, Change, and the Heart of a Neighbourhood
I hope this place grows on both sides — the affordable hawker culture and the hip, commercial cafés. I don’t want it to be like Holland Village, where the new mall made it feel too commercialised.
By Reuben Dhanaraj -
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On a breezy morning in Tiong Bahru, Jess points toward a block of flats that locals often describe as resembling a ship. “I don’t know where the head or tail is,” she laughs, “but this whole place feels like a vessel I’ve been sailing in for decades.”
For Jess, this isn’t just a neighbourhood. It’s home — one she’s known for over 30 years, having grown up and lived her whole life within District 15. “I’ve always been nearby,” she says. “Even now, I’m still within a 20-minute walk of where I started.”
Familiar backstreets of the Tiong Bahru enclave.
Pajamas, Bird Corners, and Gatherings
Back then, Tiong Bahru was more “kampong” than café. Jess remembers neighbours who popped down in pajamas, T-shirts and slippers to grab groceries. “It was simple. You knew who lived here,” she recalls. “Now, you see more well-dressed visitors — you can tell they aren’t residents.”
She smiles at the memory of the bird corner, where uncles once brought their pet birds and gathered daily. “That corner is gone now. I can pinpoint where it was, but it’s disappeared.”
Her most cherished memories, though, are family gatherings. “My aunties used to come from Malaysia, and we’d all sit around a table full of food. My mom has since passed, and my aunties are older. I really miss those days. They were non-negotiable.”
The old Tiong Bahru market (painted above) staged a very different scene back in the day.
Lion Dances and Markets
Another thing she misses dearly: the lion dance at Bao Sheng Trading Company. Every second day of Chinese New Year, the street outside would erupt with drums and colour. “They went all out — lions, dragons, the works. After COVID, it never came back,” Jess says softly.
The market has changed too. “It used to be vibrant, cramped, noisy. The food tasted better — cooked by aunties and uncles themselves. Now it’s cleaner, more airy — one of the best hawker centres, but you miss that raw vibe.” She even recalls a big tree in the middle of the market, with tables arranged around its trunk. “It’s bittersweet,” she admits. “You want progress, but sometimes you just want those fun, messy memories back.”
Quick peak at a WWII air raid shelter at the basement of Blk 78, Guan Chuan Street, Tiong Bahru.
Jess shares that on rare occasions, visitors are allowed to tour the shelter - the last of its kind in Singapore
Then and Now
Today, Jess sees both sides of the neighbourhood. “We’ve got Italian restaurants, Thai eateries, even Tiong Bahru Bakery that started here. And yet, you can still get $4 chicken rice and $1 kopi at the market. It’s budget-friendly across the spectrum.”
On weekends, festive touches add sparkle. “They turn the road pedestrian-only, with pop-up stalls and flea markets. It feels lively and new — something we didn’t have before.”
Few neighbourhoods in Singapore have had a transformation such as Tiong Bahru’s. What remains for this charming little enclave?
Looking Ahead
Still, her wish is simple: balance. “I hope this place grows on both sides — the affordable hawker culture and the hip, commercial cafés. I don’t want it to be like Holland Village, where the new mall made it feel too commercialised.”
For Jess, Tiong Bahru is still a privilege to live in — a home of decades, memories, and dreams. As Singapore marks SG60, her story is a reminder that progress isn’t just about new buildings and businesses. It’s about carrying forward the heart of a community, even as the city changes around it.