This post was originally published on murderiseverywhere.substack.com.
Singapore turned 61 years old on Sunday. There were flags everywhere, fireworks, parties…
But I was feeling more sleepy than patriotic. No, it’s wasn’t (just) because I’m that old. We’ve been learning German and Husband had the idea of playing us a German audiobook like a bedtime story (if we can learn in our sleep, why not?)
Unfortunately my German is just good enough to try to understand but not quite good enough to get anything understood which ended up with my brain churning around… and instead of joining patriotic neighbours cheering at celebrations, my National Day ended up mostly watching the celebrations in bed.
And thinking: I am older than my country.
Not older than Singapore the island, settlement, port or people who’ve been living and passing through here of course. But older than this independent Republic of Singapore.
And that’s something I have in common with a lot of people here because our nation is aging. What happens when a whole population starts aging?
There are signs everywhere of how we’re trying to deal with it: concessions on buses and MRT trains. Discounts on health checks and subsidised vaccinations, discount grocery days and discount meals…
This is my PAssion Silver ‘discount’ card.
For example an MRT trip from Changi Airport to Raffles Place (just under 20 km) that would normally cost about $2.27 costs me $1.07 during peak hours.
And now that I’m 65 years old, I’m also getting preventive healthcare reminders—at my age, influenza and pneumococcal vaccinations are strongly recommended and heavily subsidised.
There are also unofficial benefits. Like getting offered seats on buses and having energetic young people swoop in to help me return used bowls and trays. And then last Friday at the chicken rice stall, the boss lady ordered the young server to add a free braised egg to Aunty’s (ie my) takeaway order ‘because we must support each other’.
Was that because of National Day or do I need to think about dressing better or… still, I accepted the egg. I like soy braised eggs and I loved the sweet gesture.
I’m not sure how I feel about this waiver form I got from the yoga studio:
Not to be signed by me but by my ‘next of kin’ or ‘caregiver’. What?
I was surprised how much this irritated me. Okay, if I understand that if I keel over halfway through a Vinyasa class it would be useful to know who to contact. But couldn’t you have asked everyone for an emergency contact instead of demanding a senior waiver?
But I like the teachers there and it’s walking distance from home so… I decided I’m mature enough to accept this. Even though the person who signed on as my ‘caregiver’ is older than I am.
But what happens when the whole population is growing older? Singapore might be 61 years old but the median age of Singapore residents is 43.2 years now. Back when I was growing up, say up till 1990, the median age of residents was under 30 years. Growing older personally is part of a much larger demographic change.
Turning 65 also meant I had to have a medical examination before renewing my driving licence; just eye tests, agility and cognisance . It was quite fun, actually, because the doctor conducting this assessment was an old friend around my age—and he had my books displayed in his clinic!
And yes, I passed.
61 years ago, Singapore was concerned with survival. The first nine member PAP government cabinet was in their 30’s and early 40’s—Lee Kuan Yew was only 35 years old when he became our first Prime Minister. By 2011, before several senior ministers stepped down, the average age of the Singapore Cabinet was 59. The young people who stepped up to birth a nation based on equality, regardless of race, language or religion, evolved into its elder statesmen.
I think that’s something worth mentioning on our National Day. Not because we’ve perfectly fulfilled the challenge but because we’re still trying.
Happy Birthday, Singapore!