Today, Hokkiens and Teochews in Singapore are almost indistinct, mainly because everyone speaks English or Mandarin.
But in 1854, dialect groups were "badges" of identity and easily divided the respective groups, enough for them to take sides against the other:
[In Singapore. Children have been having psychiatric problems since time immemorial. It was just that nobody cared!]
This year, 2020, is the 50th year of the Child Guidance Clinic, in Singapore.
It started in 1970 with the first formal and separate set up of a Child Guidance Clinic.
Though from the newspaper reports, it seemed like it had been in the plans for some time.
As early as September 1954, there was talk of a Child Guidance Clinic to be opened "late next year" (i.e. 1955). This was sort of a follow-up story to the news from a year before (1953) on the same topic.
But Singapore had more important things to worry about then (the 1950s), like getting self-government from the British, and presumably the Brits were occupied with either trying to help Singapore be self-governing (or prevent it?).
Also, communists insurgents.
So in 1966, there was still talk about how Singapore could really use a Child Guidance Clinic. Because one had not been set up.
“Living at the junction of Canton Street and Circular Road in 1949 at the age of nine, I always looked forward to the first three and middle three days of the lunar month because that was when the tide of the Singapore River was at its highest between 10 am and 12 noon. That was the time you would find me joining the many boys playing in the flooded streets and swimming in the Singapore River. We would be in our short pants – no swimming trunks as we could not afford them – and bare-bodied. A distinct feature of our swimming style was that our heads were always above water because of the stench from the animal and human wastes and the rubbish.
One of our favourite antics was to catch a ride to the Elgin Bridge on the heavily loaded tongkangs that plied the river by climbing onto the rubber tyres on its sides. At the Elgin Bridge, the braver of the boys would dive while the less brave would jump down when the “all-clear” shouts was given. We would then return by clinging to another tongkang moving in the opposite direction. Those were carefree, sweet and innocent days!”
“At the time when Tuan Raffles came, there were under one hundred small houses and huts at the mouth of the river… about thirty families of Orang Laut also lived in boats a little way up the Singapore River at the wide part. About half the Orang Laut lived ashore and half in boats […] There were a few Malays who lived nearby, their huts facing the sea.”
