I was a product of WWII. When I was just five years old, Japan invaded Singapore. This upheaval brought tremendous challenges to our family. My father lost his job with the British Post Office, and he had 12 mouths to feed, including my grandparents, parents, six brothers, and two sisters.

The General Post Office Headquarters

(known as the British Post Office in Father Teo's account) was located at Fullerton.

1928

Credit: Singpost

​The Japanese in Pahang, Malaya, were seeking someone who could speak Mandarin and Chinese dialects to facilitate trade with the local community. This person would be responsible for acquiring essential supplies like rice and sugar. My father managed to land this job but it required him to relocate. While my grandparents continued to stay at our house on Bartley Road in the Paya Lebar area of Singapore, the rest of us embarked on a journey to Pahang.

​We were given a house to stay in Pahang, right next to the Japanese office, which also doubled as the local police station. Every day we would hear people moan and cry because the Japanese would be torturing them. 

​My mother was a devout Catholic whose weapon was the rosary. Every night we would pray. My father would return from the Japanese office at 6pm sharp. We would all kneel down and say the rosary in Teochew. If you didn’t say the rosary, you wouldn’t get dinner!

​My father became quite popular with the Japanese because he was good at trading. However some people became jealous and falsely accused him of working with the Communists. He was arrested and tortured for one week.  My mother prayed continuously for him and one day, her eyes started twitching non-stop. She felt that something wasn’t right and wanted to return to Singapore immediately. Simultaneously, a telegram arrived for my father, claiming that my grandfather in Singapore was gravely ill. My father begged the Japanese officers to allow him to visit his father one last time. After considering the request for two days, they granted him permission, but with a strict condition to return within 24 hours.

​The journey from Pahang to Singapore by railway took one full day. My father left immediately in the morning and my mother’s premonition led to the rest of us leaving that very same night. Another Catholic family who often prayed with us helped us to escape by buying railway tickets and bringing the entire family to the station. 

​My father arrived in Singapore only to discover that my grandfather was perfectly healthy! And my grandfather wasn’t the one who sent the telegram. In fact, we never found out who sent that mysterious telegram which saved us. Sadly after the war, we found out from the Catholic family that the people who falsely accused my father were executed along with their whole family, in retaliation for misleading the Japanese.

Watery porridge with tapioca and sweet potatoes

Illustrated by Julia Tay

 There was very little food in Singapore at the start of the war - that’s why we left for Pahang. We used to grow potatoes and tapioca behind our house. We had trees which grew coconut, jambu, rambutan and papaya. I would take a changko (a small shovel) and dig out a bunch of tapioca - that would feed our whole family. We would cook our tapioca until it was watery then mix it with a bit of rice. That was our meal! There was no market to buy food, we had no fish and no meat. We were kept alive because of whatever we grew in our garden. 

We spent a year in Pahang before fleeing back to Singapore. Compared to Pahang, Singapore had very little food. We resumed surviving on whatever we could grow in our garden. 

​My father had a marble batu giling (a traditional grinder consisting of a flat slab and a roller). We would get hand-ground tapioca flour from my auntie and make dough with it. After flattening the dough with the batu giling, we would cut it into small pieces, resembling noodles, and my mother would boil them.

​Sometimes, my mother would buy tiny dried prawns from the black market, and we would use them to season food. These small prawns were not easy to obtain, and you needed connections to purchase them. In addition to chickens and ducks, we raised guinea pigs. I was in charge of taking care of the guinea pigs. I would collect a big basket of grass and throw them into the cage where the guinea pigs were running about. 

Guinea pig soup

Illustrated by Julia Tay

​I was also in charge of killing the guinea pigs when the time came to eat them. No one else wanted to do it, my sisters would run away. The guinea pig’s nose is very fragile and sensitive. I would prepare everything beforehand and say sorry to the guinea pig. Then I would take a hammer and go “pop!” on its nose. When I was certain that it was dead, I would dip the entire guinea pig into a pot of pre-prepared hot water and all its hair would come out cleanly. I would then use a knife to cut out its intestines, wash it nicely and my mother would make soup with it. 

Fried blood

Illustrated by Julia Tay

I was also in charge of killing the ducks and chickens for my mum to cook. Like the guinea pig, I would apologise to it first. Then I would quickly bend its neck and cut it cleanly with a knife. I would collect the blood in a bowl - and we would make a dish out of the blood! After a while, the blood would congeal on its own and it would be a texture similar to tofu. We would cut it into small pieces and fry it with vegetables, seasoned with hae bee (tiny dried shrimp), dark soya sauce(richer in flavour compared to soya sauce), dao chiu (soy sauce) or kang he (ikan bilis aka tiny fishes, usually dried). 

Sometimes when we would have steamed tapioca sprinkled with ground coconut or a bit of brown sugar. Each person would have a piece. Sometimes we ate rice with tapioca! It was our staple. 

Worms fried in soya sauce

Illustrated by Julia Tay

When we had no food at all in the house, I would use a changkol (a shovel) to dig the ground and get some worms. My mother would put them into a bowl and wash them nicely. We would fry the worms with soy sauce and other seasonings. It became a delicacy! These worms were small, I knew where to find them because I would dig for them to feed to the guinea pigs when we didn’t have enough grass. On days when it was raining, we couldn’t go outside to harvest our crops so we would just eat the worms we already had in the house. 

Pineapple soup with dried prawns

Illustrated by Julia Tay

​When we had pineapple, my mother would make pineapple soup. You cut the pineapple into small pieces, add dried prawns and other seasonings and it becomes a tasty soup! Sometimes we would also add tang chai (salted preserved vegetables) if we had it. 

​For me, there was never a dull moment. When I wasn’t beside my mother in the kitchen watching her cook, I would be playing with the neighbours’ kids.