Neil Humphreys: Stand up for pregnant women on the MRT... and the nation!
A pregnant commuter went viral this week after being left to stand on her MRT ride from Tiong Bahru to Jurong East. She was not offered a seat, which left her disappointed.
It also left me disappointed.
She should not have been offered a seat. She should’ve been carried on the shoulders of her fellow commuters as they serenaded her with quick bursts of Majulah Singapura and Justin Bieber’s “Baby … Baby … Baby ... Ooh!”.
She’s carrying a life for Singapore. For the nation. For us. Honestly, a pregnant woman in Singapore is beginning to feel like that tapir in Punggol. There is evidence of its existence, but I’ve never seen one.
If our fertility rates decline any further, the obstetricians at KK hospital are going to look like oil tanker captains in the Strait of Hormuz, all dressed up with nowhere to go.
Apparently, there’s a random panda couple in the Sichuan mountains who’ve put their bamboo savings on procreating quicker than Singaporeans.
So a pregnant woman on the MRT should be championed, revered and rewarded with a seat, a portable fan and a NDP goodie bag if necessary; whatever it takes to ensure our housing estates don’t end up looking like Michael Jackson’s Thriller video.
Sacrifice, sacrifice for Singapore
But straightforward issues do not always get straightforward responses. Of course, there were comments about this story, some positive, some negative and some referring to the national service sacrifice that men have made on behalf of the nation, because there is no Singaporean topic that cannot be connected back to the national service sacrifice that men have made on behalf of the nation.
Because we don’t give up seats for national servicemen, do we? In fact, we tend to lose our minds when we see national servicemen occupying seats on the MRT, which is absurd, obviously. Of course, NS men can take a breather after running around the jungle on our behalf. Just as a pregnant woman can take a seat for improving our dire population figures on our behalf.
According to the woman, she only gets offered a seat once in every five train or bus rides, which are poor odds. Even I’m offered seats on a semi-regular basis, on account of my hair colour, which now looks like I’m being targeted by flatulent pigeons.
Understandably, the woman wondered if such behaviour reflected poorly on our society, or maybe the lack of empathy is borne out of ignorance, rather than indifference. We’re glued to the screens, aren’t we?
Honestly, I’m not sure if her chances of a seat would’ve improved, if she’d lifted her maternity dress to reveal “love child” painted around her protruding belly button as she sang, “hit me baby, one more time”.
And this insular or selfish or oblivious mindset – delete as appropriate – is hardly unique to Singapore. A quick Google search led me to a 2018 BBC article and Kate Hitchens. The British woman was forced to stand on a packed, bumpy train ride, whilst breastfeeding. No one offered her a seat.
If she successfully breastfed her child whilst standing on a packed, bumpy train, she should’ve been offered a job with Cirque du Soleil.
(Oh, and speaking of public safety, try and avoid online searches for “pregnant women” and “bumpy rides”. The rabbit hole was regrettable.)
To offer or not to offer?
But in Singapore’s face-saving culture, there is always the risk of causing offence. I’m still blushing at a memory from 30 years ago, when I asked a former colleague when the baby was due, only to be told “six months ago”.
In the early trimesters, there’s an element of guesswork involved and no one wants to come across as patronising, presumptuous or even rude. It’s not as if everyone else on the MRT is carrying a portable CT scanner and a tube of ultrasound gel.
We can’t sit on our prized piece of MRT plastic and say, “Look, lady, I’m willing to give you my seat, but I’m gonna need a recent gynaecologist report.”
But this particular woman was 32 weeks pregnant – about eight months along – which is beyond all reasonable doubt. By that stage, a meteorologist isn’t required to tell you that it’s raining.
When in doubt...
Just look up, step up and do the right thing. Being pregnant isn’t a disability, but it’s bloody exhausting. My wife compared the experience to being a one-woman band, with a full-size drum kit strapped around her stomach, chest and back for nine months. I asked why she couldn’t play the drums like Ringo Starr.
She didn’t laugh. Because being heavily pregnant is no laughing matter. But it is an increasingly rare gift for the Little Red Dot, one we need more than ever as we face our creeping, existential fertility crisis. Not all superheroes wear capes. But they do wear maternity clothes.
Offer them a seat and stand up for Singapore.
Neil Humphreys is an award-winning writer and MONEY FM radio host, a successful author and a failed footballer.
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