Singapore: Safety in the "Safest" Country

Hannah Chen

SINGAPORE—Walking back to my residential neighborhood, I felt the heat scorching my skin, along with the humidity accompanying it. It was around 7:15 pm, right when the sun said it’s goodbyes, and the darkness shadowed over Singapore. Still, 10 minutes away from my apartment complex, groceries hung heavily on my elbows while Dinah Washington sang into my ears through my earphones. A couple of people skittered by me, becoming fuzzy images in my brain, and I continued straight on the same sidewalk, not bothered by my surroundings. Except, maybe, for the gecko that passed by once, igniting a yelp. 

Singapore is the sixth safest country in the world and the safest in Asia. 

Many families enjoy raising their children here, tourists like to see the infamous–though extremely pricy–hotel and Merlion, students find school academically challenging, and it seems like the government really cares about its citizens, making sure to put their people first. After being controlled by the British and splitting up with Malaysia, Singapore has now grown a name for itself, constantly developing, building, creating. 

However, while the country has been working to become a place soon everyone may know about, Singapore has created a layer of “fantasy” when, truly, we should be focusing on reality. Underneath the joyous atmosphere, peaceful nights, and clean streets, there are harsh laws and harmful consequences that enforce the magic and appeal of Singapore–these all hinder our sense of freedom and speech. 

In Singapore, you can’t protest. You can’t bring gum into the country. You can’t graffiti. You can’t eat on the subway. You are prohibited from having gay sex. These are all illegal. 

Illegal.

So, how safe are we, really? If we can’t protest, chew gum, or profess our artistic abilities by doing graffiti on an empty wall, what can we do? With the Singaporean government limiting our abilities to speak freely as human beings, how can we disagree with the inhumane acts occurring behind the controlled scenes around this country? We simply can’t. To be afraid of voicing our opinion is something we shouldn’t feel day-to-day. As someone who is from several parts of the world (New York, Taiwan, Korea), the beauty of your voice is always so apparent–to tell someone what’s right versus wrong, immoral versus moral, good versus bad. And if we can’t collectively use our tales to oppose the higher powers in Singapore, then we aren’t being protected. I, for one, don’t feel safe. Not here. 

I do, though, understand the functionality of these bans and laws and bills–Singapore only wants the best for their country, one that has managed to develop significantly in the past 60 years. They want to prevent harm and danger to their citizens as much as possible. By keeping away litter, gum, graffiti, protest, and criminals, the government is overlaying their power, enforcing order. As seen in countries such as America and Hong Kong, protests can be seen as a threat, dangerously provoking the boundaries between the law and our rights. 

But the consequences of crossing the line on each of these laws are far too inhumane. We shouldn’t cane an 18-year-old for vandalism. Instead, issues should be dealt with pore properly: not by physical harm, but with the support of family members as well as the more humane consequences of jail time and fines. And by having a law and rule and punishment for every wrong thing a person could ever do, where is the freedom? How can someone do anything without feeling the fear of the government watching over their shoulders every minute?

That evening, I felt safe. No one could touch me without being fiercely punished. I thought it was great, the feeling of not needing to care about the person walking behind me or listening to music during the dark. By taping us by the lips, forcing a silence amongst what we believe in, we are undoubtedly powerless. And when powerless, we are in danger.