Neil Humphreys: The name's Yishun, Yishun Town — Please don't dump on me

Whenever I read a strange Singapore story, I turn into a kindergarten teacher who fears that her weird kid is doing something odd in the classroom again.

“What have you done this time, Yishun?” I think to myself. “Because I’ve tried to defend you haven’t I, Yishun? There was the exotic pet hoarding. The business with the Devil’s Ring and that time you thought it’d be fun to stand naked on a bridge.

“Everyone makes fun of you, Yishun, but I have stood by you. And what have you done this time? You’ve taken a dump on your own void deck.”

And it’s true. I genuinely love Yishun. I cycle regularly across Yishun Dam and through the neighbourhoods. Indeed, some of my best friends are from Yishun.

So when a colleague mentioned a viral story about a void deck being used as a “private kitchen and storeroom”, I turned into that protective kindergarten teacher again. I had only one thought ... Please don’t let it be Yishun. Let the other kids have a turn. Let it be Punggol or Sengkang. They can be quite cheeky, especially during the elections.

But no, a May 22 Stomp article had photographic evidence of a void-deck cluttering for the ages at Block 718 Yishun Street 71, where a resident claimed the mess had “reached a point of significant concern”.

As understatements go, that’s like saying West Ham United’s form had “reached a point of significant concern”. 

If an earthquake had struck that cluttered void deck, no one would’ve noticed. 

The name’s Yishun. Yishun Town. 

According to the photographs and eyewitness accounts, the void deck of Block 718 was filled with commercial-grade equipment, like stainless steel prep tables, industrial-sized refrigerators and large fish tanks. Neighbours were not entirely sure if someone was using the void deck for storage or trying to build a James Bond villain’s hideout.

In every 007 movie, the baddie constructs an underground, overground or undersea lair for himself, filling it with all the items spotted at the void deck of Block 718. If Yishun residents ever see a botak fella stroking a cat, they really should move.

I’ve long argued that Singapore should be an exotic location for a Bond movie. The British spy could leap from the top of Marina Bay Sands, sleep with beautiful women at Raffles Hotel, and blow up jerrycans at Block 718.

Yes, there were also jerrycans, along with Styrofoam boxes and plastic crates at Block 718, suggesting that the Bond villain either intended an explosive finale or had an investment in a small fruit and vegetable business.

But Bond would fit right in here. He’s got a licence to kill. In Singapore, we need a licence for everything.

Or, perversely, we ignore all the rules and regulations of HDB living and set up a private warehouse at our void-deck. Apparently, Block 718 became such a visible eyesore that it attracted pests to the area, which is no way to talk about journalists and influencers.

In the end, Nee Soon Town Council intervened and the site was cleared (presumably by lowly paid local cleaners and/or foreign workers), which is a uniquely Singaporean outcome, but a bit of a damp squib for a Bond movie ending.

Apparently, the sequel will be called Complain Another Day, without a trace of irony.

The void deck is a magnificent place 

But our void-decks were not established to be dumping grounds for selfish residents. They were supposed to encourage communal, nation-building exercises, such as playing illegal games of football and making babies after dark.

They were also deployed as unofficial upcycling facilities, long before the process became fashionable.

Everyone knew the step-by-step procedure. If you had an old chair to clear, you took it to the void deck or lift lobby area and it vanished faster than Donald Trump’s hairline in a stiff breeze. 

I once left a small pool table, two pool cues, and a box of balls at the void deck of my old HDB block in Toa Payoh and my fellow residents upcycled the lot within minutes.

Strangely, I had taken the stuff down in stages, which meant someone took the table with no balls. And did someone else just take the pool cues? More worryingly, what did they intend to do with them?

But that was the quirky joy of heartland living, passing on pre-loved items, upcycling among neighbours, and lying awake at night, thinking about what the neighbour might be doing with your old pool cue.

We didn’t dump on each other, metaphorically speaking — or literally in the case of Block 718. It’s ridiculous to even spell this out, but the residents of Yishun shouldn’t tolerate a void deck filled with large stainless steel prep tables, industrial-sized refrigerators, and jerrycans. 

Not just because it’s unneighbourly and unhygienic, but also because it sounds like the work of a serial killer.

Yishun already has an unfair reputation for weirdness. It doesn’t need Hannibal Lecter preparing a barbeque.

So let’s restore the kampong spirit at Block 718 and remember what makes our void decks so special. Who fancies an illegal game of football?

Neil Humphreys is an award-winning writer and MONEY FM radio host, a successful author and a failed footballer.

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