Being Singaporean

It is the 9th of August and a young nation commemorates 42 years of independence. Tonight, I would be gathering with fellow Singaporeans to mark this day, just like many others around the world.

Ironically, this would be my first time in at least a decade since I have really celebrated this day.

Like many Singaporeans, National Day had retrogressed to being just another public holiday.

Take a look around your neighbouring HDB blocks and you would not need to be observant to notice that the number of flags displayed had tapered down to a paltry few.

Have we forgotten what it really means to be Singaporean? Or are we who we are, “just because I live here.”

It has been over one month into my student exchange programme in New Zealand Aotearoa. Admittedly, there is much for me to learn about the kiwi culture, but it is personally rather impressive how fervently protective they are of their indigenous roots.

From time to time, I would also notice phrases like “Kiwi Pride” or “Made by Kiwis” plastered on shop signs and goods to lure locals to pay a premium for locally made products, especially in the face of invasion by dirt-cheap “Made in China” goods.

Needless to say, they make no apologies for their local slang too.

I feel almost embarrassed when I mentally list how the Singaporean government promotes national pride and unity via cursory campaigns.

In this island country where development outpaces preservation, I sometimes wonder, what part of our past could we relate to our future generation?

And beyond physical architecture and tangible entities, how would I describe the local culture to foreigners in the future when half of the population are migrants?

So go ahead, wear red and celebrate Singapore’s birthday under the scintillating fireworks peppering the hopefully clear skies tonight. But do remember to take a breather and ponder about 42 years of nationhood.

What does being a Singaporean really mean to you?

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