Discovering the hidden lives and contributions of those who serve us during our daily commutes.
When I was studying at Republic Polytechnic, I passed through Woodlands MRT station five times a week. It was a familiar spot for me, especially Tuan Tuan Puan Puan, a small stall offering $2.50 chicken rice that became my regular go-to. Affordable, tasty, and filling, it was the perfect choice for a broke student like me.
After a long day of classes and training, my friends and I would grab a snack or drink from Tuan Tuan and spend some time hanging out by the ‘Titanic’—named for the large pillars supporting the train tracks that resembled the RMS Titanic’s smokestacks—before catching the last train home.
But recently, when I returned to Woodlands, I was taken aback by how much the station had changed. The construction of the Thomson-East Coast Line had led to a major revamp, with about half the shops at the station replaced. The chicken rice had gone up in price—now $3.50! The stall was also no longer run by the same people I remembered, like the young Chinese guy who would make the chicken rice.
Reflecting on this, I realized that my interactions with these shop owners were limited to brief exchanges while buying meals. I didn’t know anything about them, and some shops had come and gone without me noticing. These are not just faces behind a counter; they play an essential role in our daily commutes. In fact, I wondered how much I had missed by not looking beyond the surface.
Although millions of people ride the MRT every day, most don’t know the stories behind the shops they frequent. This made me curious to explore further and understand what these shops truly add to our daily lives.
Lovely Lavender
I started my journey at Lavender MRT station, an area known for its residential buildings, hotels, and the Immigration and Checkpoints Authority (ICA) building. Passing by chain stores like Luckin Coffee and McDonald’s, I was drawn to a stall called Chef Ibu, which serves a variety of affordable local dishes like bee hoon, nasi lemak, and sambal goreng.
Behind the counter was Nora, a lively 50-year-old who greeted me warmly, despite having a face shield on. “What you want?” she asked in her loud, cheerful voice. Although I wasn’t buying anything, she was more than happy to talk about her work.
“I’m happy to work because I meet people,” Nora told me. She’s been working part-time here for five years, and she enjoys the social aspect of the job. Her ability to speak multiple languages allows her to connect with customers from different backgrounds, reflecting the diversity of the area.
Nora even mentioned that she’s considering a career switch, possibly into hospitality. “I can probably work in a hotel reception as a guest relationship manager,” she said, showing an openness to learning and growing in her career.
Red Hot Redhill
Next, I visited Redhill MRT station, where I discovered BakeryPoint, a small shop offering affordable pastries like sausage bread and chocolate buns. Mdm Leow, 66, has worked here for 12 years, right from the shop’s opening. Although she initially seemed stern, she warmed up as we chatted and even cracked a few jokes.
Sadly, she explained that business had been declining. The area’s foot traffic has diminished since a nearby field, once frequented by migrant workers, was replaced by a condominium. “Everything has gone up,” Mdm Leow said, referring to both the costs of running the shop and the declining number of customers.
Despite the challenges, she expressed loyalty to her employer, appreciating that he listens to her feedback. “If he wasn’t so nice, I would have retired last year,” she shared.
No Signboard Admiralty Newspaper Store
At Admiralty MRT station, I encountered Mr. Chew, 67, who runs a small store selling retro snacks like pancake biscuits, cotton candy, and Push Pops. Although the shop looks like a relic from the past, it has only been around for five years. Originally a newspaper store, Mr. Chew expanded his offerings to include snacks and drinks.
Despite facing difficulties, Mr. Chew is determined to keep the store open. “Many people want this area; it’s a good location,” he told me, indicating that he’s not ready to give up the spot just yet.
Chinese Garden Camaraderie
At Chinese Garden MRT station, I found a food shop run by Mr. Gao, 42, and his colleague Jing Li, 42. They serve a variety of Chinese dishes, including mala hotpot and noodles, catering mainly to migrant workers from China. The two of them share a sense of camaraderie, having both come to Singapore to work and support their families.
“We greet each other,” Mr. Gao said, speaking of the regular Chinese migrant workers who frequent the shop. Despite occasional language barriers, both workers connect with their customers through simple gestures and shared understanding.
Socialising in Serangoon
Over in Serangoon, I stumbled upon a small shop selling old snacks and toys, run by an elderly woman in her 70s. The store, inconspicuous and easy to miss, has been a staple in the area for years. The woman, who has worked here part-time for eight years, enjoys the social aspect of the job. She chats animatedly with her elderly customers, some of whom have become friends over time.
“We sell cheap things. And we’re serving a different audience,” she told me when asked about the presence of NEX, the nearby shopping mall. It’s clear that the shop serves as more than just a place to buy goods—it provides an opportunity for connection and socializing, especially for the elderly residents who live nearby.
That Special Something
Through these visits, I’ve come to realize what MRT station shops bring to their neighbourhoods: cost, character, and community.
Firstly, these shops provide affordable food and essentials that are accessible to everyday commuters. While inflation has raised prices everywhere, MRT station shops still offer lower prices compared to air-conditioned malls and food courts.
Secondly, it’s the character of these small, local shops that makes them stand out. Whether it’s BakeryPoint’s pastries or Mr. Chew’s retro snacks, these shops feel distinct and personal, offering something that chain stores cannot replicate.
But most importantly, these shops foster a sense of community. They provide daily points of connection for people, whether through the friendly banter of the shopkeeper or the chance to catch up with familiar faces during the daily commute. These shops are not just places of consumption; they are part of the local rhythm, offering comfort and consistency in our busy lives.
In a world where we’re often too busy to connect with others, MRT station shops are there to provide that brief but meaningful human interaction. Losing these small, unique businesses would mean losing a piece of our shared identity.
