Reviving Haji Lane: A Collective Effort to Prioritize People Over Profits
A black sedan maneuvers into Haji Lane, not out of necessity but because it can. Startled pedestrians quickly step aside, while a sheet of A4 paper on the car’s windshield declares, “This is why they need to close Haji Lane to vehicles.”
While this narrow road is dubbed “Singapore’s Narrowest Street,” its vibrant character can easily distract visitors from its actual dimensions. On a Sunday evening—or any evening, for that matter—navigating Haji Lane can be a challenge. Not only are there crowds to contend with, but the unexpected presence of vehicles turning onto the street can disrupt the flow. This tightly-packed, four-meter stretch, often cluttered with makeshift chairs, tables, and the occasional clothes rack left by distracted shop owners, has become a coveted shortcut for daring motorists.
Since 2013, Singapore’s Urban Redevelopment Authority has created weekend car-free zones by temporarily closing certain roads. However, these closures were suspended during the pandemic, and despite the easing of restrictions, some roads remain open to vehicles, including Haji Lane, where both locals and tourists stroll along the narrow path. Visitors frequently pause to capture photos of the colorful murals and street art, inadvertently stepping into someone else’s frame.
The absence of road closures has taken a toll on businesses along Haji Lane.
The Curious Car Incident
As I reflect on these observations while walking the narrow five-foot way of Haji Lane, I meet Mr. Aden, Director of Rumi the Poets Cup, a café that highlights the local arts scene. Recently, Rumi posted on Instagram, rallying support to reinstate road closures, emphasizing the street’s significance in Singapore’s historic Kampong Glam.
“I also saw the car that just drove through here,” Aden remarks. “Someone must have taken it upon themselves to show that keeping the road open benefits no one.”
Aden’s passion for Haji Lane’s history and culture is palpable. It’s fitting that he established his café on the street where he spent much of his formative years. He nostalgically recalls the “hipster movement” associated with Haji Lane and names shisha cafes that once occupied the same shophouses.
“We’ve lost the street’s character because businesses are closing down. Haji Lane isn’t just about the physical space; it’s about the people and the businesses that embody its essence,” he states, alluding to the community spirit that thrives along this road.
He recounts a recent moment when vendors collaborated to clear their wares for an emergency vehicle. “Everyone helped each other out. This is the kampung spirit we cherish in Haji Lane,” he says.
Aden speaks with conviction and charisma, positioning his café as a vocal advocate for the return of road closures. Other businesses share this unified voice, echoing the importance of community. Ashin, manager of the tarot-themed bar 3 of Cups, highlights how the businesses along Haji Lane support each other.
“For our community, we rely on one another. For example, What the Pug depends on my customers and Rumi’s customers,” Ashin explains. “Haji Lane has a natural flow; customers move from one spot to another. They might grab macarons from What the Pug after dining here.”
Haji Lane has earned a reputation both locally and internationally for offering diverse activities in a compact space. The relationship among business owners has evolved from mere commerce to one of interdependence and community.
During our interview, employees and shop owners greet each other, exemplifying the camaraderie that permeates the area. Aden pauses to chat with fellow shopkeepers, showcasing the tight-knit nature of the Haji Lane community. Vendors even celebrate national holidays together.
“We all come together. Competing doesn’t mean we can’t be unified. During Hari Raya, we set up a long table, and all the vendors share a meal together,” Aden reminisces fondly.
The Financial Struggles
Yet, fostering the vibrant culture of Haji Lane does not pay the bills. The stark reality for shop owners is that the costs associated with occupying historic shophouses can be overwhelming.
Rent for a shophouse can range from S$8,000 to S$54,000 a month, depending on size and location along Haji Lane. While Aden didn’t disclose specific figures, Rumi occupies a two-storey shophouse, which likely incurs substantial rental costs.
The café’s limited interior space is evident when I enter for a drink. Though cozy corners are great for gatherings, they pose challenges for business operations, especially when customers linger. Rumi’s maximum capacity of 16 can become problematic, especially when considering pandemic restrictions.
“If the road remains open, Rumi’s profits could drop by about 40%,” Aden estimates. “Bars along the street might face losses of around 50%.”
In contrast, a car-free environment allows Rumi to accommodate 36 customers, serving around 6,000 unique visitors monthly. In comparison, it now sees only 3,600 monthly customers without outdoor seating.
Aden explains that what Rumi now earns in a week without al fresco space is what it previously made in three days with outdoor seating.
I express my gratitude to Aden for his time. Despite the challenges, his commitment to Rumi’s mission of promoting the local arts scene shines through, whether or not the street is car-free.
The Culture of Haji Lane
After my interviews, I linger a little longer at Haji Lane. Each time a vehicle appears, pedestrians respond with a mix of annoyance and caution, squeezing into tight spaces to let it pass.
Even infrequent vehicles evoke disdain from pedestrians, who perceive them as unwelcome intrusions in a space meant solely for people.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aden, Ashin, and other local business owners chatting at What The Pug, a new addition to Haji Lane. Their familiarity reflects the collective effort to cultivate and sustain the culture of one of the world’s coolest streets.
The push for a car-free Haji Lane transcends mere business strategy; it represents a commitment to preserving community ties.
Aden summarizes the sentiment: “Profits are important, but we want to do more than focus on the bottom line. We strive to give back by organizing events like chess and poetry nights. We want to be more than just a business.”
