When some of the women demur, saying they would prefer working in Hong Kong or Taiwan where the pay is higher, they offer cash. Call it an ang pow, or a bribe if you will. An inducement to work in Singapore.

Known as “sponsors” these men form a key link in the domestic labour supply chain, bridging the geographic divide between Indonesian recruitment agencies, which are located largely in cities and towns and the women, who mostly come from far-flung impoverished hamlets.

Many of these men are the husbands, fathers or trusted neighbours of the women who want to work overseas. Some are respected village elders.

Indonesian agents say that it’s next to impossible to access the women without paying the men handsomely for their “recruitment” services.

The men keep the bulk of the money, but claim they use a part of it to lure the women to work in Singapore. In the absence of receipts, such claims, of course, are hard to verify.

The money forms a part of the recruitment costs that are paid upfront by Singapore employers - which they then recover from their maids through monthly salary deductions.

For Indonesians, these costs - and the consequent loan - has risen threefold in 10 years, from three months at the turn of the century to between nine and 11 months now. A rise in sponsor fees, say agents, is the main thing driving costs up.

The sponsor fees for Singapore-bound maids at some agencies is as high as eight million rupiah or $1,160. Sponsors claim they pay nearly half of it to the women or their families, as an inducement for them to come.
Women going to Hong Kong and Taiwan may also be given inducements, but these are much less in value, since salaries are higher there.

The majority of new Indonesian maids who arrive in Singapore get paid below $380. If they manage to go to Hong Kong, instead, they would be paid at least $580; in Taiwan $680.

During a trip to Jakarta and West Java this month to research a Saturday Special Report I realised that the sponsor's fees could be responsible for three negative but interlinked trends we are seeing with domestic workers here in Singapore. First, they push up the loans the workers must pay off.

Currently, as the maids work to pay off these loans to their employers, they get paid only between $10 and $20 a month. Many cannot bear the burden of working on such low pay for up to 11 months - so they run away.

If this happens during the loan repayment period, employers must haggle with agencies for a refund of the placement fees which they have paid on behalf of the maid. They’re lucky if they get even half the fees back.
In some cases, the maids run away within days. Agents acknowledge that some of them may not have even intended to work here long term. They simply took the ang pow, came to Singapore to see a foreign country and then ran away, only to be repatriated back home.

This way, they don’t lose money. It’s the agents and employers who must write off the unpaid load. So how can the situation be improved?

First, agencies in Singapore need to spell out clearly refund mechanisms should a worker run away before paying off her dues. Our standard contracts are silent on this so far.

The Indonesian Government could also enforce a ban on sponsor fees or work to minimise them. But this could be hard to implement. Agents tell me that the Government there has in the past tried to eliminate middlemen by asking women interested in becoming maids to apply for jobs directly to the agencies through the Internet. But many are not computer savvy.

Besides, they don’t want to apply on their own as they feel this would deprive the sponsors - many of whom are relatives - of their livelihood. What they don’t realise is that the “ang pow” they receive from the sponsors will be recovered from them as part of the loan they must pay back once they reach Singapore. And sadly, in a cruel twist of irony, many are promised ang pows, but don’t ever get them. The sponsors just keep the money.
Employers, meanwhile, can also do more - they need to gauge whether they would want to fork out higher sums as wages - directly to the women who work for them - to lower other costs like sponsor fees, which only serve to grease middlemen's pockets.

Higher wages could also entice banks to offer them the loans - like they do in the case of women going to Hong Kong and Taiwan. The banks I am told are reluctant to fund maids coming here as their salaries are too low.

After all, women going to Hong Kong and Taiwan don’t need hefty ang pows or sponsors. And neither are their employers saddled with their unpaid loans if they run away.

radhab@sph.com.sg

To read more about why fewer competent and committed Indonesian maids are heading to Singapore, read today's Saturday Special Report.

The calendar section allows surfers to view volunteering opportunities from various charities for the entire month. Events that are still in need of volunteers are indicated by little green squares. Those that are already full are highlighted in red.

Happily, the red squares far outnumbered the green. Out of around 88 volunteer opportunities available till the end of the year, 66 were fully subscribed. Only 22 are still looking for manpower.

The little squares could be seen as a vindication of what a study by the National Volunteer & Philanthropy Centre, revealed last month. Hardworking, but self-absorbed Singapore is seeing a surge in serving others.

According to NVPC’s biennial Individual Giving Survey, nearly one in four people here took part in volunteer activities over the past year, up from 16.9 per cent two years earlier. Volunteer hours have also doubled to 89 million.

The survey, which polled 1,815 people aged 15 and above, showed the young are leading the charge. Volunteerism rates among the 15-24 groups are at an all-time high of 36 per cent.

Significantly – and rightly – the NVPC survey did not consider students signing up to do charity work as part of their Community Involvement Programmes – are volunteers.

Only those who continued to help out beyond the mandatory community service hours required by their schools were counted.

According to the IGS, volunteer numbers have surged across all age groups. This week’s Saturday Special Report chronicles the tales of 16 Singaporeans and Singapore residents who are helping others in their own small ways.

Supramaniyam Ganesan, a gangly 15-year-old has been reading to children from low-income families since he was 7. Margaret Wong, in her 30s, volunteers time in archaeological digs across Singapore to in a voyage to learn more about her roots. And Michael Song, 55, befriends ex-offenders, trains them in music and has helped some get jobs.

As we laud the dedication of these selfless soldiers on International Volunteers Day tomorrow (Dec 5), we must also remember the various reasons for us not to rest on laurels.

First, volunteer rates here are still way behind countries like the United States and the United Kingdom which have rich traditions of giving. Besides, the NVPC survey polled only a small segment of society, and sampling can have its bias.

And finally, we should not forget that volunteerism rates spiked in a year when Singapore was in the grip of a recession, making people more aware of others' needs. They also had more time on their hands, with the economy slowing down.

Let’s hope that with the economy booming once more, the people and causes crying out for a helping hand are not neglected again. 

Read the Saturday Special Report here

He watches television. He stares at the ceiling.

Or he sleeps.

When hungry, he uses his left hand to grasp some kueh or biscuits Madam Samsiah leaves by his bedside.

Madam Samsiah, who works in an electronics factory, can't earn lucrative overtime pay because she needs to rush home from work to feed him dinner.

After initially searching for a nursing home bed, she decided to look after him herself so that her husband can remain where he belongs – at home. Juggling a full time job with caregiving is hard. But the production operator in an electronics factory is not complaining.

'He is happier here,' she told me sitting by her husband's bedside when I visited their modest home. At that, Mr Juana's face broke into a slow smile. And he slowly lifted his left hand to give a thumbs up.

While working on a Saturday Special Report on long-term care – published in today's The Straits Times – I came across several stories of love, dedication and sacrifice as sons, daughters or spouses care for their sick or aged loved ones.

Some like Madam Samsiah valiantly juggle a job and a nursemaid's role. Others have put their careers on hold to tend to a sick loved one.

Significantly, many older folk here are being cared for by their unmarried children – like Ms Irene Chia, Ms Irene Ng or Mr J Chua. All three are in their 40s and 50s. All three have made work – and material sacrifices – to better tend to their parents.

But all three don't have much savings. Mr Chua, for instance, who gave up his job as a Chinese translator to tend to two parents worries about the costs of care. Looking after his bed-bound parents costs about $1,400 a month. His four siblings earn a combined income of a little more than $9,000 and the family qualifies for only 25 per cent subsidies for home visits by a doctor or nurse. He is keen to get back to full time work himself as he needs to save for his own old age.

This trend of children or spouse tending to frail or ageing loved ones is not new. It's what people have done for generations.

But with more here opting to stay unmarried, those who will need professional care as they age can only grow. There are already around 70,000 people here who live alone or with an elderly spouse.

Nursing homes are already running close to capacity. Waiting times are inching up and the sector is facing a manpower crunch. In some nursing homes, a single staff member – usually a foreign worker – needs to look after more than 30 patients at night. Their pay too – at $350 is less than that of many maids.

Today, Madam Samsiah, Ms Chia, Ms Ng and Mr Chua are tending tirelessly to the parents who raised them and made them who they are.

But as I visited their homes and listened to their stories, I couldn't help but wonder who will care for them when they grow old?

(To share your insights and experiences on eldercare in Singapore e-mail radhab@sph.com.sg)

Read the Saturday Special Report here

Where elderly can get help

Indeed, according to some estimates, 9,000 aid agencies currently work in the country. Most seek to rid the country of penury, to give its people access to clean water, food, shelter. And a shot at a decent life.

Yet, over the years, change has been slow. And prosperity for all remains a distant dream, as many Cambodians still have limited access to the very basic of human needs.

Fifteen years ago, only eight per cent of Cambodian villagers had access to proper toilets, for instance. That number has since climbed to barely 20 per cent.

Despite the best efforts of more than 2,000 NGOs working in the field and the Government, nearly eight in 10 villagers in the country still live without a loo.

Even as the country celebrated World Water Day this week, the World Bank estimated that more than 9 million Cambodians fall ill with diarrhoea, which is largely caused by unsafe water and lack of sanitation. An estimated 6,000 - mostly children – still die from diarrhoea.

But a new breed of philanthropists, led by Singapore-based NGOs like the Lien Foundation and the World Toilet Organisation is trying to change that.

Rather than give out toilets free, they are trying to tackle the root cause of the lack of sanitation: poverty and lack of education.

Their mission: rather than let them depend on handouts, put Cambodians firmly on the long hard road to self reliance.

On a visit to Cambodia last month, my colleague Joyce Fang and I were able to see evidence of how giving “effectively” can help transform lives.

Take, for instance, the case of businessman Nop Heant. The 38-year-old used to make and sell concrete rings used for building rainwater harvesting systems in Takeo province in southern Cambodia.

He would get around 30 customers a month if he was lucky. The profits from his business – about US$100.

A chance visit by Cambodian aid worker, Aun Hengly, to his little workshop changed his business – and his life.

Mr Aun, who then worked for the local NGO Rainwater Cambodia, wanted to give Mr Nop an order to make concrete rings for 81 rainwater systems his organisation was planning to build for the poorest families in the village. But the systems would need 1,000 rings. Mr Nop panicked.

He had only one mould to make the rings, which, given the huge order, would not be sufficient.

Investing in more moulds was out of the question, he told Mr Aun. He lived hand-to-mouth. What if after the order, his business failed?

But Mr Aun, who now works on a project marketing toilets for the World Toilet Organisation, sought to assuage his fears with sound advice.

Investing in more moulds would allow him to achieve economies of scale, which in turn could lead to lower the prices – and more customers. Mr Nop could also look at diversifying his business and producing rings for toilets as well.

“I was scared. I had no confidence. But since he gave such a large order, I could not refuse.”

He dived in, bought the moulds – and delivered the orders.

A year later, when Mr Aun returned to the little Takeo workshop, it had changed beyond recognition.

Mr Nop, who used to toil with just a single assistant, now had 10. While he owned just one truck before, he now had four. And he was getting at least 80 customers a month. Profits too had soared to $250 a month – more than five times the average income in his village.

Mr Aun now works with the World Toilet Organisation and Lien Foundation on a project to stir both demand and supply for toilets in villagers. Such projects not only help save lives, but also create self reliance, he points out.

“Relying on yourself is the only sustainable way out of poverty,” he says. “But sometimes you need a little push to get going.”

To read more about how a new way of giving can be a springboard for self-reliance, read our Saturday Special Report, Trickle of hope.

Resorts World Sentosa will welcome its first customers in four days when four hotels and a few restaurants and shops throw open their doors.

The two big draws - the theme park and the casino - will open later.

I watched as front-line staff practised their service skills, actors and stuntmen rehearsed their shows and analysts added polish to their latest pronouncements.

To them all, I put the same crucial questions: would the billions of dollars invested in Resorts World Sentosa bear fruit? Why? Or why not? Was this project big on hype and small on substance?

Most of those I spoke to, were firmly optimistic. May be it was just the time of the year. Or may be it was quiet conviction.

But what was surprising was that many gave exactly the same answer on what they saw as this project’s greatest strength: its diversity.

When fully operational, the resort will have six hotels, Singapore’s first casino, south-east Asia’s first Universal Studios theme park, the world’s biggest oceanarium, scores of fancy shops, restaurants and more.

As today’s Saturday Special Report puts it, you can stay, eat, shop, ride and roll within the space of a few kilometres.

Indeed – RWS’ vice-president for resort operations Noel Hawkes puts it – it will be a "complete destination in itself", with "something for everybody".

"We will be competing not with any single attractions, but with entire resort towns, like Bali or Phuket," says Mr Hawkes.

But can diversity alone bring in the 13 million visitors RWS hopes will pass its way in a year? Not quite.

The quality of both the attractions and the service need to be world class. And the price needs to be right.

Adults will need to shell out $66 on weekdays and $72 on weekends to enter the theme park.

Although it sounds steep, consider that Singapore currently has attractions like the Singapore Flyer where adults pay nearly $30 for a 30-minute ride. At Universal, $66 or $72 can buy you an entire day of fun.

But one set of prices – that of hotel stays – need to head southwards. Not many may be willing to pay $400 a night for the cheapest room at the IR, given that hotels across the world have slashed rates.

For now, the resort needs to announce promotions and discounts soon for the hotels to pull in the crowds. And, of course, the theme park and the casino need to open soon.

Only then can we know whether hope and hype can face up to reality.

radhab@sph.com.sg

Read the Saturday Special Report here

Some live in the shadows of society, yet others in full public glare. All are tormented by the same private compulsions which make them slaves to drugs, drink, gambling or even sex.

This week’s Saturday Special Report focuses on the addiction trap -- on why people get hooked, high and lose control -- and how they can be helped.

The good news is that more are seeking help for their addictions, showing that the biggest barrier to treatment addicts face -- denial -- is slowly being broken down.

The Institute of Mental Health has seen a five-fold increase in patients at its specialist outpatient clinics treating addictions. A little more than 1,000 new patients sought help in the last financial year, compared to barely 200 in 2002.

But the numbers, say doctors, are the tip of an iceberg, given Singapore’s 4.8 million population.

By some estimates, 2.1 per cent of people here could be at risk of becoming problem gamblers. Another 1 per cent could have a drinking problem. If you consider smoking – possibly the most common addiction worldwide – about 14 per cent of folk here are affected.

Our feature, however, does not look at smoking, since we wanted to concentrate on addictive substances and behaviours that are just as or more harmful than smoking to the but usually reaps a bigger toll on families.

Over the past three weeks, I have spoken to more than 20 recovering addicts and attended around five hours worth of support group sessions. Listening to their stories left me with a few abiding impressions.

First, it is incredibly easy to get hooked. Take, for instance, the 35-year-old corporate high-flier whose professional career came crashing down because of an addiction to sex and party drugs. He says he tried Ice and Ecstacy the first time just to show his teenage girlfriend, an addict herself, how easy it would be to quit. Instead, he got into the trap he was trying to free the girl from.

Second, addiction ruins not just your life, but the lives of your loved ones as well. At the Institute of Mental Health one recent afternoon, I met a dynamic and courageous woman who juggled two jobs to support herself and her husband, while he stole her jewellery and cleaned out her bank account twice to feed his gambling addiction.

"There was no one I could confess my shame to," she said, her voice breaking. "Whenever I wanted to leave, he would beg me to stay and I felt trapped."

Finally, there is no such thing as a complete and instant recovery. Take, for instance, the septuagenarian businessman who has overcome decades-long struggles with gambling and alcohol – only to fall prey to food. Or the former drug addict who spent 20 of the past 30 years in jail and has found new meaning in life in teaching schoolchildren how not to be like him.

He has been clean for six years now, but lives in dread of falling prey to his bad old ways every minute of every day. "I know someone who went back to drugs after 30 years of being clean," he said, recounting his fear of relapse. "You can never let your guard down."

Indeed, when it comes to addictions, prevention is the only fool-proof cure.

When my cancer-ridden dad left his home for the hospital, never to return, I was sitting at the family dining table, peering into my computer, checking a an article I had written and wanted to hand over for publication.

There was no pressing urgency to deliver the story that day. In fact, I was on leave.

My Mum and brother accompanied him to hospital. But I stayed back, assuming there would be many more such trips in future.

Though weak and with end-stage ureter cancer, my Dad, or Baba as I called him, was walking, talking and looked like he had months left.

He did not. The end came five days later. He was 66.

And though I spent virtually all my waking hours at his hospital bedside those last few days and was with him the moment he passed on, that memory of him waving me goodbye as he left home, and me barely even noticing, continues to haunt.

Caught up in the rough-and-tumble chase of academic or career excellence, too many of us forget all too often that life is fragile and loved ones may be snatched away much too soon.

Indeed, assuming that a seriously-ill loved one has a moderate lease on life simply because he or she looks well is foolish as I learnt the hard way.

In conjunction with the release of Singapore’s first-ever survey on attitudes to death and dying, this week’s Saturday Special takes an up-close look at how half a dozen spirited individuals are living or lived out their last days as they faced life’s saddest certainty.

We reveal the uncommon equanimity and grace with which former TV producer Shin Na and housewife Patricia Ng lived out their last days.

Both died all too soon – Ms Na at 42 and Mrs Ng at 57. Both chronicled their innermost thoughts and fears with great courage and candour – Ms Na on a blog and Mrs Ng on DVD.

And both had loving families who put their lives on hold to tend to their every need.

The Special also features former dancer and actress Zoe Christian, 45, who has Stage 4 breast cancer and is determined to live life to the fullest, despite facing tremendous personal odds.

She has plenty of spunk left in her, but the money for her treatment has run out. She is now trying to raise funds soliciting donations through her blog and holding fund-raisers.

The latest, on Tuesday, will feature performances by well-known dancers and include dinner. Log on to www.zoechristian.com/projectlife for more details.

Like Zoe, Ms Na and Mrs Ng, more people here are willing to lift the shroud of silence that often hangs over death and dying.

About 60 per cent of people polled in the new survey, commissioned by the Lien Foundation, said they were comfortable talking about their own deaths.

To learn more about the survey and read stories of uncommon courage in the face of death, turn to our Saturday Special Report today.

The following is an essay adapted from the book The Four Things That Matter Most (Free Press, New York 2004) by American doctor, professor and writer on palliative care, Ira Byock

"Steve Morris was dying hard. When the hospice team met him, Steve was struggling for every breath, unable to walk without gasping for air, yet unable to sit still because of the anxiety that defined his life. He was scared of dying and suffered through every waking moment.

Ironically, as he faced life's end, Steve said he was more happy with himself than he could ever remember being. Paradoxically, in the process of dying, he was becoming well within himself and helping his family to become closer and more openly loving."

Several high-profile public education campaigns and newly set up people’s organisations have recently had the same stirring call – active ageing. These will hopefully help babyboomers stay healthy.

But what if you are already old and ill, losing slowly what many say is life’s greatest gift of all – your memory?

The horror and heartbreak of patients and caregivers coping with dementia came alive in a myriad ways as I researched this week’s Saturday Special Report.

An estimated 25,000 are living with the condition here.

For patients, the illness can be puzzling at first. With the erasing of recent memory one of the early signs, many stricken with the condition refuse to believe anything is wrong with them.

A 57-year-old unmarried publishing executive whose mother has been living with the affliction for more than a decade, remembered how he chanced upon her wandering around Tanglin Mall one afternoon shortly after she was diagnosed.

The former washerwoman had walked there all the way from their Redhill home. When he asked her that evening what she had done the whole day, she had no recollection at all of her little escapade. Instead, she was upset that her son was concocting what she thought were terrible stories.

As time goes by, the hurt and despair can morph into anger and even violence.

A devoted daughter I interviewed has endured sleepless nights, taunts, tantrums and threats of suicide as she nurses her 79-year-old mother who has Alzheimer’s. The suicide threats were especially painful – since her clinically depressed husband – ended his life.

Others have endured physical torture – like a housewife who gets beaten up every day by her dementia-ridden husband who has the delusion that his family is stealing his money.

In home after home, caregivers old and young, rich and poor spoke as one of how hard it is to see loved ones slowly waste away.

Yet, although we now live in a world where someone is diagnosed with dementia every seven seconds, relatively few speak out about the disease in Singapore.

And although experts agree that the caregiving responsibilities of this disease are possible the heaviest – with many requiring intensive nursing care, yet lingering on for years – there aren’t too many support systems for carers here.

So how can we as individuals help stem the scourge? First, we could open our wallets and give generously to a cause that seeks to help families with loved ones who languish as the living dead. (The Alzheimer’s Disease Association is collecting funds to open a new centre at Jurong.)

Some of us could also consider volunteering our time to help patients and their families.

Experts say we may soon face a shortage of support facilities such as daycare centres for patients, especially those that cater to patients with early dementia. These centres allow family members to go work or take a breather from their caregiving duties.

There are many dedicated volunteers who are soldiering quietly to help others cope by organising support groups or raising funds.

But one example of sterling service stands out.

When she was in her 80s, retired gynaecologist Oon Chiew Seng approached the Ministry of Health to offer her services to do something to help the aged sick.

The Ministry asked her to consider setting up a nursing home for dementia patients. Nearly a decade on, Dr Oon’s Apex Harmony Lodge remains the only nursing home here that was purpose-built for dementia patients.

And although she is now older than most of the patients at the nursing home, the sprightly snowy haired woman still visits them every day, playing mahjong or just lending them a friendly ear.

“They need someone to talk to – and I have the time,” she says. “This way, they are happy and alert and so am I.”

Read this week's edition of Saturday Special Report here. 

Their prayers have been answered with the Government unveiling details today of its mammoth package to make more mommies.

But will these measures work?

Several voices on the ground - especially female ones - are already grumbling that making babies is not just about money.

Some say they don’t want to give birth to children in the "pressure cooker" atmosphere of Singapore, where an obsession with grades and the drive to always excel has become the motto of many lives.

Others who are educated and ambitious career women say they do not want to sacrifice corporate success at the altar of motherhood.

As a working mum raising two children, I believe that both arguments don't hold much water.

Let’s talk about the stress. Yes, Singapore has an extremely competitive ethos, but how stressful you want your child’s life to be would depend largely on you.

For the first few years at least, parents have far more influence and control over their child’s destiny than an external environment can ever have.

My husband and I agreed early on that we would give our daughters the gift of the same childhood joys that we experienced growing up.

So even today, my 10-year-old spends a couple of hours at the playground every evening, returning home happy and sweaty.

She does her homework and studies for her exams, but barring mother tongue - because she studies a language I don't speak - she has absolutely no tuition.

And the only "enrichment class" she goes for - weekly piano lessons - came about because she insisted she wanted to join.

She is not top of her class - though her grades are fair. But she values her freedom (from tuition), and it’s making her more responsible.

Aware that she could so easily have been marched off to half a dozen fancy tutors and denied sleep in the ceaseless quest for academic success, she is making her own little efforts to maintain her grades.

Last week, before her semestral assessment exams, I gave her a practice worksheet to do.

When I returned from work that night, she handed me not one but two completed papers.

Her grades had slipped the previous term. She said she wanted to make up.

Despite her efforts, I know she does not have much hope of scoring enough to even be among the first 10.

The elite list will be chockful of girls whose evenings are crammed with tuition sessions. But she is happy the way she is - and so am I.

My younger daughter is 21 months - and not yet in pre-school. I have decided to wait at least another month before beginning her "formal education".

By some standards, she is already quite late: I know nine-month-olds who attend three different kinds of classes.  But as a mother, I can control how "stressful" I want my kids lives to be.

It’s harder to argue with the notion that having babies will harm a woman’s career. There will always be some collateral damage. Indeed, in Singapore like in most parts of the world, the upper rungs of the corporate and Government ladder are still dominated by men.

In cultures where productivity and merit are still largely weighed by how much time people spend at the office, some women may decide to curtail work time - and their ambitions.

And even as more companies open up to the prospect of flexi-time and weighing an employee’s worth by her productivity and drive rather than her investment of time, many working mothers may be disinclined to keep up with the frenetic race to the top.

Time, after all, is finite, and bringing up children would be a far bigger priority for them than chasing career dreams.

But most mothers I know do not see this as, well, sacrifice.

That’s because as their children grow, they realise anew every day that sharing love, moulding minds and making memories together are far more precious than anything money - or a career - can buy.