The real Iron Lady

The real Iron Lady

SINGAPORE - The one-room rental flat she lives in may be a cluttered mess of cardboard and used items, but Madam Ng Moey Chye knows exactly where the navy-coloured samfoo top and its matching red headpiece is kept.

The outfit is a trademark of samsui women, who came from China to Singapore in search of a better life, and who worked as construction labourers.

Says the 81-year-old grey-haired woman, gesturing at the striking red cloth, which is held in place by tiny silver pins: "My hands are too weak these days, so I can't fold the headdress from scratch any more."

Still, the pride she has when it comes to samsui trade is evident throughout the interview.

The term "samsui women" typically refers to women who hail from Samsui city in Guangdong province, China, who came to Singapore in the early 20th century, in search of work in construction sites.

According to the Singapore Sam Sui Association, only two samsui women are still alive in Singapore. One of them is Madam Ng, who lives in Redhill Close. The other, who lives in the same block as her, declined to be interviewed.

Madam Ng explains that she was born in Singapore, but her parents were from China.

"My dad was a farmer, and my mum, a samsui woman. Together, they had more than 10 children," she says. Madam Ng, who speaks fluent Cantonese and a smattering of Mandarin and Malay, was given away and adopted as the youngest of three children in her family.

She has not gone to school, but began working at the age of 14, as a babysitter.

When she turned 18, she joined the samsui trade, in which she made $3 to $4 a day.

"In those days, that was really good money," says Madam Ng, who lived with her adoptive family at Pagoda Street in Chinatown.

"I wasn't as big and strong as some of the other women, so my main role at the construction sites was to load the baskets with bricks, cement and other materials, which the women later carried on their shoulders with the help of poles."

Samsui women like her toiled under the sun for long hours, often working from 8am to 8pm.

"They would give you a token sum once you work past 8pm, but it wasn't much," she recalls.

"The samsui women would gather at Chinatown, waiting for job offers.

"We were contract workers, paid a daily rate, so we never took work for granted."

Her memory fails her often in this interview, but she recalls working at the Bukit Timah area, building houses for the well-heeled.

Eventually, she quit to work in a food wholesale centre, where she loaded potatoes and onions onto lorries for distribution.

The money was better, she states plainly.

While samsui women are believed to have taken vows never to marry, she clarifies that not all take that path.

"I've seen some of my friends marry, and while some of them led a good life, some of them also had a difficult time, so I don't have regrets about not getting married," she says.

None of her adoptive siblings are left and she does not keep in touch with their children, which means Madam Ng has no family.

During weekends, she travels to a friend's home in Boon Lay to play mahjong.

Finances are tight. She withdraws $500 from her Central Provident Fund account every two to three months and confesses she does not know how much there is left.

Her Member of Parliament, Mr Sam Tan, who oversees the Radin Mas constituency where Madam Ng lives, says that the sprightly woman had been asked to sign up for public assistance thrice in the past, but had declined the offer.

People of her generation are fiercely independent, an attribute that speaks well of their resilience, he remarks.

Mr Tan says he has since managed to convince Madam Ng to apply for assistance, since she likely meets the scheme's criteria. This means she will receive about $450 for expenses every month and pay highly subsidised medical fees.

Madam Ng also gathers scrap cardboard, which she sells for a few dollars a week.

Every Saturday, she receives a bag of supplies from charity group Apex Club, which distributes items like vegetables, bread and toilet paper to needy elderly folks.

But festive occasions are spent alone, at home.

"I don't get visitors nor do I go visiting during Chinese New Year.

"The most social it gets is going to the void deck and chatting with some neighbours.

"I have to do that to prevent my mind from going down, you know!" she says with a chuckle.

Find out how our reporter got the interview at tnp.sg

benitaay@sph.com.sg


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