The other day went by like any normal day but it was Racial Harmony Day. I didn't grow up during that violent period of our history when races had running street battles with one another, but still, years later, it would come back to haunt my mom and her neighbours.
If you visit Geylang, you'll notice that it consists mostly of 3-storey terrrace blocks. Shops below, living quarters above, winding staircases behind. I live nearby Lor 17 which had both terrace blocks and kampong houses (the wooden sort raised on concrete pillars quite typical in Geylang). Each of these kampong houses was also fronted by a curved cement staircase that led to a small courtyard. Altogether, it was all quite neat. In these few houses lived a couple of Malay families while the rest were Chinese.
I often went marketing with my siblings and mom to the butcher and veggie shop at the other end of the lorong. One day, on the way back, someone whispered to my mom that "the Malays are beating the Chinese!" This was a common cry during the earlier race riots.
We could see other people walking quickly away, concern on their faces. Ahead of us, a group had gathered... some holding big sticks. They were just outside the homes of the Malay families. My mom recognised a few of them. One Chinese uncle approached and told my mom to quickly bring the children home. He then added: "Don't worry, we will protect them." By that he meant his group of neighbours would stand guard outside the homes of the Malay families. No riots happened that day but I knew then that it was something many of my mom's generation guarded against.
In the past, my mom often told stories of pregnant women being hacked to death, of children being shown no mercy, of running battles between mobs, etc. Oftentimes I wondered if she got WWII events mixed up. But she lived through the riots, had to hide sometimes, so maybe the violence was either true or was worse. Because of the actions of my neighbours, I never felt the need to be on my guard whenever I walked along Lor 17. I knew then that that Malay uncle and aunty would look after me just like they were similarly looked after on that scary day.
That was the one and only racial riot incident I've experienced in my time. Although this incident turned out to be just a rumour, I think by then, racial incidents were on the decline or became a non-issue. With HDB housing, the interracial situation became better and we became even more tolerant racially as a result.
