the best time to be singaporean
sometimes the city comes alive in a very precious way.
At some point when I wasn’t looking, Singapore started issuing identity cards starting with “T0”.
Okay, I think I did know that before now. But last week, as I peered at the screen of a slightly laggy laptop to double-check the NRIC number of the shy twenty-something sitting before me, I realised that the young ‘uns with “T0” cards aren’t that young anymore. I’m just freakin’ old. They definitely think so. They were probably so patient with me when I printed out the wrong form because they think old people aren’t so good with technology and need to be cut some slack. But that wasn’t because I’m old! It was because I’m a mess.
Anyway. That’s not the point.
The point is that I’ve become that auntie who speaks approvingly about how “young people these days are not bad ah” because they show up at rallies and volunteer for opposition political parties. No, wait, that’s not the point either.
The point is that, during the general election period that ended in the early hours of Sunday morning, I witnessed engagement and care for Singapore and Singapore’s democracy from lots of young citizens, even those not yet old enough to vote. And from senior citizens, too, and everyone in between.
I spent Cooling-Off Day volunteering at the headquarters of an opposition party, registering people signing up to be polling or counting agents. Lots of people, from all walks of life, turned up to fill the form and swear their oaths. There was a guy who came in his work uniform. A brother-sister pair, only 19 and 16, eager to do something. Someone told me to give him the polling agent shift starting early in the morning because he had to work the night shift. Another had literally just flown back from Europe the day before; he said he’d take any shift the party needed him to take. He’d even take all of them, he said, if they were really shorthanded. When I asked if the jet lag would get to him, he said he’d done the same for the presidential election because someone had to do it.
Over at the next counter an uncle with grey in his hair and beard offered to take both the morning and afternoon polling agent shifts and the night-time counting agent shift.
“Won’t that be super tiring?” I asked. And super boring, I added in my head.
He shrugged. “Once in every five years. I can.”
Two counters down on my other side, a mother was on her phone telling one of her sons to make his way down to volunteer, too. Her other sons were either away or otherwise occupied, or they’d have been summoned as well. She greeted me by name. It turned out we’d both volunteered for another party at the last election.
These are the moments in which I love my people best. It’s a stereotype that Singaporeans are politically ignorant and apathetic, but the reality is that, when the need arises, there are many who can, and will, step the fuck up. Maybe we’re not the majority of the country. Maybe we’re not even enough in real numbers—I think the party might still have been shorthanded in the end. But we’re a start, and we can grow.
I was going to say that I’m so glad I can finally write about something other than the election. It’s occupied almost every corner of my mind for the past 10 days, and I’ve had so many late nights trying to squeeze coherence out of an exhausted brain. But the moment I started a new doc, this was what came pouring out.
I’m not best pleased with the election result. I wanted more of an opposition presence in Parliament. I wanted the PAP to LOSE FACE with another drop in vote share. I wanted them to get the message that Singaporeans are no longer in awe of them, that they can’t just do whatever they want anymore without getting a drubbing at the ballot box. I wanted more people to reject the unfairness, the oppression, the power grabs, the harassment and the bullying. I wanted to feel like we could come together to make them pay a price for the way they treat us. None of this happened, and they’re probably feeling quite pleased with themselves for that 4% improvement. Damnit.
But the fire and energy and emotion I get from an election in Singapore don’t just come from the results. More than that, it’s about the experience, the atmosphere, of those ten days. It’s about standing with thousands of others at a political rally, joining in on the cheers and feeling the catharsis of a mass gathering that’s about, oh my god, politics in Singapore. It’s about seeing the people stepping forward as candidates, knowing it’ll be an uphill battle laden with booby traps but doing it anyway. It’s about all the citizens who pat candidates on the shoulder, shake their hands and wish them well; the people who donate to fund the expensive endeavour of campaigning; the parents who bring their children; the curious teenagers showing up at rallies in their school uniforms. On these days, in these moments, my city suddenly feels so much more alive. On these days, in these moments, I carry myself with a little more purpose and my brain buzzes with the thrill of it all.
It might be some time before I get this feeling again. Now that the election’s over we’re all going back to our regular lives (well, most Singaporeans never actually left, but I sure did) with the same mundane frustrations and anxieties. The daily grind will soon wear down any remnants of the excitement, the emotional highs and lows. Soon this GE will start to feel like a long time ago. But my city is a palimpsest of everything we’ve experienced, so, somewhere in all the layers, a little bit of this magic will remain. And perhaps, some time in the future, we will unearth it again.