The void deck, the empty ground floor level of the public housing that 85% of Singapore lives in, is unique part of life here.
A space like this is where I learned to ride a bicycle, to skate, to give play to my imagination. It’s where weddings and funerals happen.
It’s a space to gather, to seek shelter, to pass through, to rest.
In being a void of living, it allows space for life.
My Mum lives in Tampines, a suburb of Singapore that not too long ago, was a forested home to villages, farms and sand quarries. Residents were resettled to make way for the construction of the a satellite township that today houses around a quarter of a million people (there are around 5.7 million people in this tiny country).
Tampines New Town was the winner of the United Nations’ World Habitat Award in 1992.
Tampines is named after a tree.