ANN/THE STRAITS TIMES – High above the gleaming malls of Singapore’s bustling shopping district, a pink-necked green pigeon catches sight of a tree – an acacia, its towering evergreen form rising from a dense canopy spanning the size of three football fields.
Just steps away, along the crowded sidewalks of Orchard Road, mynahs squabble over fallen crumbs while shoppers weave through the throng.
But within this untamed patch of greenery, bordered by Orchard Turn, Orchard Boulevard, and Orchard Link, the only sounds are the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional flutter of wings.
It is a curious space: a rare parcel of prime real estate, left untouched since the 1950s, in a country where liminal spaces are often pulverised by pragmatism.
It is not a park. Nor is it an active cemetery. There is no one fighting for it, no one using it and, apart from the occasional forum post asking “Why until now still no developments yet?”, hardly anyone pays attention to it.
Even the multimillion-dollar makeover intended to transform Orchard Road into a lush green corridor that connects Singapore’s historical green spaces passes over this secondary forest, for which the Urban Redevelopment Authority (URA) has other plans.
Perplexed but intrigued, I do a preliminary Google search, but do not get very far. A blog post here, a throwaway mention in a decade-old article there.
I even contact the Ngee Ann Kongsi, which used to own the plot of land, to ask if it could tell me anything about its history, but am told by a friendly but apologetic employee that there is not much to add.
“If you find out, please let us know too,” she says, putting an end to our brief phone call.
Still, I want to know how this forest came to be, why it remains untouched, what lies inside and what fate awaits it.
This is the story of my trip down that particular rabbit hole and how I end up in the lushest, most mosquito-ridden part of Orchard Road, squinting at a pink-necked green pigeon.
PAST LIVES
Before acacias sprouted up and creepers carpeted the ground, this section of Orchard Road was studded with tombstones.
A Teochew cemetery, Tai Shan Ting, sprawled over the expanse currently occupied by the forest, as well as Ngee Ann City, Wisma Atria, Orchard Cineleisure and Mandarin Gallery.
The about 28ha plot of land was acquired from the East India Company by Ngee Ann Kongsi in 1845, establishing Singapore’s first Teochew cemetery on the site. For the island’s Teochew community, this was a welcome – and long overdue – move.
“Many of the early Teochew immigrants who settled in Singapore were labourers who arrived alone to make a living. They lived in poverty and had little hope of returning to China to spend their final days,” said an associate professor in the Department of Chinese Studies at the National University of Singapore (NUS) Dr Lee Chee Hiang.
“For these immigrants, looking for a place for burial after dying in a foreign land became a pressing concern, as there were very few public cemeteries established by the colonial government of Singapore at that time.”
Many cemeteries then were owned by Christian or Muslim organisations, which made them inaccessible to Chinese immigrants who were not Christian, Catholic or Muslim.
But, by 1948, Tai Shan Ting had ceased to be used as a cemetery for many years, according to a Straits Budget report on a proposed scheme for building flats along its fringe.
By 1951, exhumation was under way. Over the next two years, more than 20,000 graves were exhumed, their remains interned at another Teochew cemetery in Sembawang.
Many remained unclaimed. Of 5,000 soon-to-be exhumed bodies, only 25 were claimed by relatives for reburial, wrote The Straits Times in September 1951.
It quoted an official of the Kongsi, who explained that because the graves were so old, tracing the descendants of the deceased became a challenge because even the relatives had died.
“During the late Ming and early Qing periods in China, many Teochew people involved in anti-Qing secret societies fled to Singapore to escape the Qing government persecution,” said Dr Lee.
“Unable to return home, they were buried in public cemeteries, but often did not dare to engrave their names or home towns on their gravestones. As a result, some graves at Tai Shan Ting remained anonymous, with no one able to identify or claim the remains.”
MAKING ROOM FOR THE LIVING
Ghosts lurking in the shadows, uncleared graves hidden in the vegetation. The forest’s macabre past has given rise to all sorts of rumours, traded by employees working nearby and urban explorers passing through.
Yet the spooky stories – whatever their veracity – have not deterred developers from trying to coax families into settling down in the former cemetery.
In 1952, the Kongsi’s plan was to turn Tai Shan Ting into a teeming residential estate, home to 20 bungalows, 84 shophouses and 423 flats. There was to be a hotel, a school, an amusement park, a cinema and an electrical substation.
Instead, the Kongsi ended up erecting Ngee Ann Building, a 10-storey development housing apartments and shops, on part of the land in 1957. It was later torn down for Ngee Ann City, which opened in 1993 to serve a commercial purpose.
The surrounding 50,000 or so sq m of land was acquired by URA in late 1979.
Over 20,000 square metres – where the forest now sits – remains undeveloped and is slated for residential use under the agency’s Master Plan.
But the URA told The Straits Times in a joint statement with the National Parks Board (NParks) that it has no immediate plans to develop the site.
Chief research officer at property search portal Mogul.sg Nicholas Mak estimates the land on which the forest sits is worth over a billion dollars, calling it a “big treasure chest of gold” that the Government can continue sitting on. Though it is not raking in dividends, its value will continue to appreciate.
“The land sale market is a bit subdued. The government is in no hurry to sell because this is the last piece of greenfield development land so close to Orchard Road.”
Plus, he adds, there is no pressure on the government to act on its plans for the area.
“Unlike HDB, which faces high demand for new flats, there is no pressure in this case to sell super prime land to developers because buyers aren’t exactly clamouring for super prime land near Orchard Road.”
OrangeTee Group’s chief researcher and strategist Christine Sun concured: “The government is now concentrating on public housing, so I don’t think this area is their priority. The luxury market is slow too.”
Nonetheless, when the forest is finally turned into homes, Mak believes that demand will sprout.
“I don’t think home buyers here are bothered by whether the land is a former cemetery or not,” he said. – Cherie Lok
