Diminishing memories

In the past four decades, Singapore has undergone a radical transformation. It now has one of the strongest economies in Asia. But what price has it paid for such progress? Since the 1960s, villagers have been forcibly resettled to make way for industrialisation. Now, even the living memory of village life in Singapore is dying. In this personal documentary, filmmaker Eng Yee Peng recalls her childhood memories of growing up in a vanished world.

"There it is - our house was there," states a man pointing at an abandoned pot covered in weeds. It's been nearly 20 years since Eng Yee Peng's childhood home of Lim Chu Kang was destroyed to make way for a military training camp. Now, all that remains of the village are a few pieces of scaffolding surrounded by dense woodland.
Lim Chu Kang may no longer exist but its residents remain nostalgic for a way of life now long gone. "In the country, we used to walk right into people's houses without asking", recalls Liang Liangsheng. "Although we lived miles apart, we knew our neighbours. Now, in flats, we all live behind closed doors." For another resident it's the trees and wild fruit she misses most. "I still dream of our rambutan trees", confides housewife Zhou Lifang. "I used to gather firewood from under them. They made my cooking smell and taste better."
 The destruction of Lim Chu Kang was part of a wider government policy of forced industrialisation. "If I had a choice, of course I wouldn't have moved," states Liang Liangwen. "The government sent some people to demolish our home. If we refused to move, they would dismantle our windows and doors so that we couldn't live there any more." The elderly found it the hardest to adapt to the forced relocations. "Many of them committed suicide", confides doctor and politician Tan Cheng Bock. "They became depressed and would jump from their new flats." As a politician, he accepts that "the government had to industrialise or else we would have been left behind." But as a local doctor forcibly relocated, he misses the life he once had.
However, not everyone is sorry they had to move. In Lim Chu Kang, Wang Songfa used to help out in the family shop. Now he manages a business that services Western Singapore. "We were able to make the switch because our relatives were already in the business", he explains. "Of course I couldn't bear to leave Lim Chu Kang. But then I was relieved because we started making good money. We should have moved earlier."
After decades of industrialisation, it is now too late to turn back the clock. As the older generation die out, children are growing up with no direct experience of village life. And even those who still pine for the old way of life recognise it was a necessary sacrifice they had to make. But they cannot help feel nostalgic. As one man states: "How am I suppose to make my nephew understand the thrill of being able to dance with butterflies?"