I'm now 79 years old, and my journey began in Mumbai, formerly known as Bombay. I've been living in Singapore for 55 years, and during my time here, I've experienced a life filled with change, resilience, and love.

My marital journey was a unique one. I entered into an arranged marriage with my husband, and this was my second marriage. My first husband passed away in India, and I remarried four years after his death when I was 28 years old. My husband and I shared the same Indian Muslim heritage.

My husband was 18 years old when he arrived in Singapore during WW2, so all my stories of WWII came from him. He was just 18 years old when he arrived in Singapore, far away from his homeland. He came to work as an accountant for a prominent trading company called Motiwala, which was of Indian origin. His father had been working for them back in India. The company asked if his son was interested in working here, so that’s how he ended up in Singapore. 

Different types of rice rations

Illustrated by Julia Tay

Upon his arrival, he found accommodation at 101 Geylang, where he started a new chapter of his life. During the war, food was scarce. My husband said he often ate porridge, which often amounted to little more than water with bits of rice. The rice itself was in a sorry state, mostly broken and, at times, tinged with a reddish hue. It's likely that the rice had been stored in less than ideal conditions, causing it to change colour. Sometimes there were stones and worms in the rice, occasionally it was even mossy. He had to dry the rice to make it palatable.