The Straits Times Blogs - Tan Hui Yee

Saying goodbye in peace

2009-11-13T22:00:00Z

Tan Hui Yee looks at funerals held at void decks.

THE business of void deck funerals is a peculiar one, at least for those new to Singapore.
Malaysian-born Singaporean Frankie Chiuh, 50, remembers what it was like, witnessing his first such funeral beneath his apartment block 17 years ago.
“I felt uneasy as it was just below our homes. In Malaysia, you usually hold funerals in parlours, or - if you live in a house - in your compound.”
But like any other Singaporean, he has grown used to the idea that the free space beneath apartment blocks here can accommodate a whole range of activities, funeral rites being just one of them.
Familiarity though, does not take away the friction that can occur when neighbours compete to use void decks, or insist that one party has no right to it.
Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong most recently related how a Chinese family was adamant about holding a funeral at a void deck when a Malay family had already booked the place for a wedding.
Funeral director Ang Ziqian, 28, has his own story to tell. One particular void deck funeral attracted a visit from the police every two hours, because a family living nearby kept complaining it was too noisy.
Each time, the police went away after ascertaining that that was not so.
Later, the puzzle was solved: A child from the family had fallen ill after accidentally kicking over an oil lamp placed on the floor during the previous void deck funeral. This made the family very wary of such events.
But this is an extreme case, says Mr Ang, who runs Ang Chin Moh Casket, one of Singapore’s oldest funeral planning companies.
“Most of time, if neighbour A holds a wake, neighbour B, C, and D will attend the wake.”
Besides, he says, funeral directors work according to a set of unwritten rules.
The first is simple - all religious services at the wake end by 11pm.
Next, if they are unsure if the void deck has been booked for some other activity, they will choose another venue if they see that furniture has been placed there in preparation for a wedding.
If two wakes are held at the same location, funeral directors will stagger the time each procession leaves, to reduce congestion.
The problem arises mostly on weekends, when town councils are closed and the deceased’s family has no way of checking if void decks have been booked for any event.
Currently, the family simply goes ahead with the funeral and only pays for the use of the void deck on the next working day. This practice, though, leaves a lot to chance and opens the door to disputes.
Mr Ang suggests that town councils put void deck bookings online, so that residents can do the check themselves even if the town council is closed. To help residents who are not web savvy, it can also make known the telephone number of the estates officer in charge of each batch of flats.
Yet technology can only help so much. People have to play their part.
How disputes are resolved, he says, still boils down to the attitude of each resident involved.

Read the Saturday Special report here.

Taking the driver's seat in a condo

2009-07-31T22:01:00Z

Tan Hui Yee examines the conundrum of condo maintenance.

SUPPOSE you buy a luxury car one day, which comes with a one-year warranty and a paid chauffeur for that period.

There's not much to complain about, as you zip around town in the cool comfort of the passenger seat.

After one year, when you finally get the keys, you realise something is wrong. The brakes are not working, the acceleration is not so smooth.

You head back to the car distributor, but he says: 'Sorry, your warranty period is over.'

Condominium owners are faced with this conundrum when they move into their new home.

-- Photo: CDL

Under the Building Maintenance and Strata Management Act, the developer acts as the management council for the estate in its first year of existence. The developer has to run the estate, manage its fund - including paying maintenance fees for any unsold apartments - and keep proper accounts to hand over to the homeowners when that period is up.

The idea is that the homeowners need some time to settle in and get to know each other, before they can take over the running of the estate. They have the option of calling for a general meeting to elect a council earlier if at least 10 per cent of them request for it. Most choose to wait till the 12 months is up.

The problem here is that the developer's guarantee also lasts 12 months. Within this standard defects liability period (DLP), developers are obliged to fix - at their own cost - any defects that arise within the apartments, as well as other parts of the estate.

Any defect identified after that period risks being classified as a case of 'natural wear and tear'. The homeowners would have to dig into their own pockets to get it fixed.

Far East Organization - one of the largest developers in Singapore - states in response to queries from The Straits Times: 'Our legal obligation in respect of defects rectification ends upon the expiry of the DLP. Calls from purchasers after the expiry of the DLP, are reviewed on a goodwill basis.'

Established developers usually hand over to the condos' management corporations a set of warranties from specialist contractors that would last beyond one year. The rooftop waterproofing, for example, usually comes with a 10-year warranty from its contractor.

But getting other defects fixed depends on the owners' luck.

Honest developers own up to latent defects which surface a good two or three years down the road, and either rectify them or compensate the condo owners.

Bean-counting developers will go by the letter of the law and refuse to budge. They know - just as much as the owners - that if any party goes public about these defects, it could lower the reputation of the condo just as much the developers'.

Getting the defects fixed becomes a game of 'who blinks first'.

Which is why estate management professionals like Mr Chan Kok Hong, who runs CKH Strata Management, advocate condo owners take over the running of their estate as soon as possible.

At the very least, they say, homeowners should pay close attention to any kinks in the common areas of their estate in the first year, instead of concentrating solely on what's inside their apartments.

When it comes to owning condos, it is better to take the drivers' seat early - than live the next few years in regret.

Follow the streetwalkers

2009-05-15T22:32:00Z

Tan Hui Yee says successfully targeting retirees is easier said than done.

FIRST came the streetwalkers. Without fuss and fanfare they walked into Singapore’s heartlands, saw a 'business' opportunity and grabbed it, way before people realised there was money to be made from retirees.

These 'silver' consumers were perfect clients. They had just withdrawn money from their Central Provident Fund accounts and had time on their hands to spend it.

Then the banks got into the act and started targeting retirees with investment products, some of which seemed on paper to be too good to be true (a suspicion that turned out to be well founded).

Singapore's business community has a less than gleaming record when it comes to engaging older consumers. Most companies fail to grasp the value of the silver dollar and lack effective ways to tap into it.

Official efforts to raise awarenesss began with a very unwieldy sounding 'SICEX 2008 Conference' that brought together professionals, business leaders, policymakers and academics to look at ways of turning silver into gold.

That improved somewhat in January this year, when the government-backed Council For Third Age launched the '50+ Singapore Expo' with more varied consumer items to pull in the crowd.

These days, any company which has designs on the silver dollar has to the navigate a verbal minefield with regards to the proper terms of address.

Depending on where you stand - and how ageist you are - the terms 'uncle' and 'auntie' can be construed as either respectful or insulting, equated with dowdy and haggard.

Other words that raise a red flag are 'senior citizen', 'elderly' and simply 'old man'.

'Silver consumers' is out of the running because silver hair has been banished with hair dye.

And even the seemingly innocent term 'older' is frowned upon by some.

Retail consultant Marie-Louise Jacobsen states: "These customers are not older. They just have lived longer. This is exactly the point Singapore companies should get their heads around. The mind-set of a 50-plus is young."

Even, according to retail expert Lynda Wee, '50-plus' is wrong.

"Please don’t call them 50s, uncles, aunties or even silver-haired. No one aspires to be '50s'," she says.

It's a no-win situation. Salesmen are left with a paltry 'Sir' or 'Ma'am', which are almost unbefitting of our colourful, multi-ethnic and cosmopolitan environment.

While some question the use of labels, British marketing expert Dick Stroud contends that it's not just the labels which are the problem, but the type of labels used.

From the marketing perspective, it is useless to categorise someone as an older consumer without knowing about the consumer's habits and lifestyle choices.

Just saying someone is 60 does not tell us anything about what he likes to eat, how often he travels, what car he drives, which sports he plays, or his approach to life.

As the number of older people in the population swells, ageing should become less of a taboo and people will start to realise that the world need not end if others find out how old they are. Older consumers may also become less sensitive to the variety of labels heaped upon them and their lot.

In the meantime, one thing is for sure. An increasing number of people are living longer and are holding the bucks. In a capitalist economy, that is the final measure of power.

To avoid being left behind by the demographic tide, business owners need only shed their blinkers and follow the money. After all, it’s basic economics. Find out what the customer wants and then give it to him.

It can be simple and fuss-free. Just ask the streetwalkers.

The stigma of grey

2009-02-27T22:00:00Z

Tan Hui Yee muses on the negativity associated with being 'old'.

TO DYE to not to dye?

That question popped up one day, during the preparation for my Saturday Special Report on ageism, when retiree Lena Lim, 71, talked about how she felt excluded at parties when she no longer dyed her grey hair black.

Suddenly, she was deemed 'old' and no longer interesting.

It turned out later to be an emotive topic among colleagues. Dyeing, they said, was a no-brainer because 'grey hair ages you'. Would you go for a job interview with grey hair, they asked?

What was left unsaid: Would you want to be judged on how old you looked, and, because of the negative associations that being 'old' has, potentially lose out that job you are eyeing?

It is a hard question to answer, when society's ageist attitudes may force you to walk the line irregardless of your personal convictions.

Dr Robyn Stone, the executive director of the Institute for the Future of Ageing Services in the United States, thinks that 'our natural ageing process is really important'.

'Ageing builds character in individuals and societies. When you take that away, you don't have that opportunity in your society.'

Technology has made if possible for someone who is 60 to look 40, but it cannot mitigate the ageism that arises when everybody tries to look young. That lone grey haired women in the corner sticks out like a sore thumb because she suddenly doesn't look natural.

What would that kind of future look like, when everybody looks 'young'? Would the term 'young' still mean anything?

It is a paradox similar to one presented in the common line: Would we know what it is like to be happy if we have never experienced sadness?

Take out the grey, and we lose an important shade of Singapore. But the journey to erasing its stigma can be long and - in the case of Lena – sometimes lonely.

Read Hui Yee's Saturday Special Report on Ageism here.

The curious club

2008-12-06T08:37:00Z

Tan Hui Yee peeks into a secret meeting of Singapore's Freemason society.

IN THE dimly lit, wood-panelled bar lined with dark leather sofas on one end, a gathering of middle-aged men in tuxedos sip ginger ale and Coke as they chat about the day’s events.

Pictures of masonic tools like the square and compass hang on the wall. Diana Ross’ cover song “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” plays in the background.

But the relaxed mood turns sombre when the 1970s tunes are swapped for Bach’s “Air on the G String”. One by one, the men shuffle out of the bar and head to the Temple upstairs.

The Freemasons’ meeting has just begun.

The global fraternity of men, which started in medieval Europe when stone masons got together to protect their trade secrets, is today still clothed in an air of mystique that baffles most outsiders.

Most intriguing are their regular allegorical plays, conducted by tuxedo-clad, masonic-apron donning members to impart moral and ethical lessons on newcomers.

New and long-time members interviewed both say that curiosity played a large part in them joining the organisations.

Eighty-four year old Hatim Nakhoda, who heads the Islamic Fellowship Association, asked his good friend G.E. Bankuwala more than 50 years ago why he kept packing regalia to attend meetings in Coleman Street - where the Freemasons Hall is located.

He told Mr Nakhoda: “If you are a religious person, and you believe in Allah, and this will be good for you. All are good men, but Freemasonry will make you a better man.”

The multi-faith Freemasons do not make open calls for members, but extend personal invitations after judging them to be of good character.

Meanwhile, Freemason Shiva Banerjee, 74, says: “My initial willingness to join became more a final solution to curiosity.”

Once in, they found a world that extended beyond rituals, to include charity work and lectures on philosophy.

Haematologist Ronald Ng, 62, who became a Freemason in 1996, says: “There is a lot of the human touch. You gain a greater understanding of life.”

Read the full story on Singapore's Freemasons in The Straits Times today.