Hidden colours of Singapore: A journey beyond the skyline

rab Street thrives as a bustling hub of shops and eateries, where the scents and sights of Malay and Muslim culture come alive. Photos: Collected

Singapore is synonymous with glitz and luxury, often attracting the urban elite. Impressive, sleek edifices and modern malls define her skyline. Yet beyond the glamour lie small enclaves that weave stories of friendship, collaboration, and coexistence through warmth and vibrant colour. They are as inviting as the greenery is soothing, evoking a quiet yet profound spirit of harmony.

I was not there to celebrate landmarks; my interest lay elsewhere. Over the years, I have become more a relaxed flâneur than a landmark-hopper, wandering aimlessly—yet eagerly—in the hope of stumbling upon the unexpected. 

I observe the often apathetic, sometimes hurried movement of people, sample local cuisine, speak with residents, and explore neighbourhoods steeped in culture and history, tucked away in relative obscurity.

This disposition led me to two radiant microcosms hidden beneath the city's gleaming surface—worlds within a world, no less significant. Were I an artist, they could easily have been my muses.

Arab Street hosts an array of businesses and eateries whose aromas evoke Muslim culture. Today, the influence of the Malay Archipelago is more pronounced than that of the Arab world. The street remains a thriving commercial hub, home to merchants of many kinds.

Sultan Mosque, once modest, now rises with golden domes, drawing thousands of worshippers.

It owes its name to the settlement of Arab traders in the nineteenth century, when Sir Stamford Raffles designated the area for the Arab community. It soon evolved into a bustling centre of commerce shared by diverse ethnicities. Located in Kampong Glam—also known as Kampong Gelam—it lies just a stone's throw from Bugis MRT station.

My first stop was a small shop run by an affable Indonesian woman. After a hot plate of home-style nasi goreng and a brief exchange, I set off down the street, curious and energised.

The first eye-catchers were the colourful façades of the shophouses, many housing silk, carpet, lamp, spice, and fragrance merchants. Their pastel tones not only lent charm to the two-storey Peranakan shophouses—standing in refreshing contrast to the surrounding high-rises—but also reflected Singapore's variegated soul. The Peranakan community traces its roots to unions between Chinese immigrants and local Malay women.

The pastel hues reminded me of Cinque Terre in Italy. If those were flowers scattered across the laps of lush green mountains, these felt like the flowers of verdant Singapore

The pastel hues reminded me of Cinque Terre in Italy. If those were flowers scattered across lush green mountains, these felt like blossoms of verdant Singapore.

From the street below, the open windows appeared as inviting portals to a glorious past. I found myself wishing for a Harry Potter broomstick to whisk me back through time. My acrophobia, however, quickly intervened, confining me to a leisurely stroll.

The street's true charm revealed itself about halfway along. A tall granite arch, adorned with Omani carvings, stood as a gateway to Muscat Street, an offshoot named after Oman's capital. 

It symbolises the longstanding cooperation and friendship between Singapore and Oman, forged through maritime trade. An arch stands at each end, proudly bearing witness to this bond—perhaps the very essence of the place.

The first soundscape accompanying these striking visuals was the soothing call to prayer drifting through the air—an apt reminder of the Muslim traditions that shape this neighbourhood and of the quiet acceptance that surrounds them.

Redeveloped through a joint venture, the street now features large murals along its buildings. Bursting with colour, these visual raconteurs tell compelling stories, linking the city's rich past to its confident present.

One mural depicted the everyday life of a Muslim merchant family selling goods from their shophouse, while their young son playfully hurled a paper aeroplane through an upstairs window. The image made me wonder whether he was sending a plane-load of messages, inviting passers-by into his stories.

Beside it stood a depiction of Pustaka, a publishing house once run by Haji Muhammad Said, a prominent figure in the Malay printing industry. Did those books quietly foreshadow these murals, telling their stories decades later? Below it was an image of two tombstone makers at work. 

To the right, a metal fabrication shop and Jamal the jeweller appeared, absorbed in their craft. The portrayal of ordinary lives was so vivid and natural that everything felt tangible and alive. I found myself imagining being part of that world, trying to grasp its struggles, aspirations, and rhythms.

Another striking mural offered a thoughtful juxtaposition of two periods in Kampong Gelam's history—the 1920s–30s and 2023—capturing the area's evolution. A small river from the earlier era disappears on one side, while on the other, a bridge and towering buildings rise in its place.

The area's most salient landmark, Sultan Mosque, or Masjid Sultan, was once a modest house with a sloped clay-tiled roof—a stark contrast to today's grand white mosque, crowned with golden domes and minarets and drawing thousands of worshippers. Non-praying visitors are welcome up to a designated point, a gesture of harmony extended to all. Inside the prayer hall, vast chandeliers and ceiling fans illuminate the space while quietly conveying a message of peaceful coexistence.

Singapore's cultural confluence extends beyond this district. On the East Coast lies the charming Katong neighbourhood, celebrated for its street art and Peranakan heritage. Pastel-coloured terraced houses, with elevated main levels designed to protect against the sea, line the streets. Back alleys feature delightful murals, while intricately carved doors and windows offer visual pleasure at every turn.

Sultan Mosque, once modest, now rises with golden domes, drawing thousands of worshippers.

I encountered several charming murals while visiting the famed local confectionery, Chin Mee Chin. The kopitiam is renowned for its kaya toast, served amid a backdrop of Peranakan floral motifs and vibrant street art.

Here, artists have poured their hearts into sprightly colours, projecting a profound sense of pride. East Coast Road, lined with potted shrubs and quaint shops, makes for a soothing stroll. The murals, approved by the authorities, pay tribute to the area's coastal identity. Life here unfolds at a leisurely pace, often pausing over a cup of coffee and a plate of kaya toast.

Back on Muscat Street, I sought a tete-à-tete with a local to put a face to these impressions. Teh tarik in hand, I struck up a candid conversation with Nikki, a friendly young woman seated outside the popular Tarik Cafe. Beside her was her mother-in-law, Hariya. 

Nikki, a Singaporean married to a Yemeni man, spoke warmly of the city's halal food scene, hip restaurants, and trendy shops run by Malay and Chinese entrepreneurs. Her young son, Ibrahim, flashed a toothless smile, while her husband worked nearby, embodying the convivial spirit of the street.

I sipped my Padi Quencher—a refreshing blend of coconut flesh and wheatgrass—a fusion of disparate elements much like the city itself, where cultures blend to create richness. With every sip, I felt I was absorbing the essence of a multifaceted stage, animated by street art and enlivened by human connections.

The murals and floral motifs stand as emphatic artistic statements, perfectly complementing Singapore's garden-wrapped charm. Her walls are the pages of an open book, where artists narrate stories, project identity, and celebrate the city's vibrant tapestry of culture and community.