‘Frugal and kind-hearted’: Singapore’s former coolies remembered in new book

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Mr Thio Boon Chin, 82, former coolie and retired taxi driver at Chin Kang Huay Kuan, on Dec 19, 2025.

Retired taxi driver Thio Boon Chin's experiences as a former coolie are among those chronicled in the book Kindred Waters: Stories Of The Jinjiang Coolie Community In Singapore.

ST PHOTO: ARIFFIN JAMAR

Follow topic:
  • An 82-year-old former coolie recalls his experiences at the Chuan Kiat Seng coolie quarters in Kampong Bugis in the new book.
  • As a teen, Mr Thio Boon Chin helped illiterate coolies to write letters home, noticing how they concealed their hardships to avoid worrying their families.
  • He worked as a sea coolie and in boatyards, then drove a taxi for 30 years before retiring about a decade ago.

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SINGAPORE – The Chuan Kiat Seng coolie quarters at 16 Nam Lock Street in Kampong Bugis were Mr Thio Boon Chin’s favourite haunt. As a schoolboy at Ai Tong School, he would shower and study there when most of the coolies were out at work.

The two-storey building accommodated 20 to 30 residents, most of whom worked in boat-building, sawmilling or construction, or as port labourers or cooks. They slept on wooden platforms, each with a red blanket and a wooden trunk for personal belongings. Each paid about $1.50 a month for the accommodation, but fees were waived if they were unemployed.

Mr Thio’s father Thio Soon Low, who journeyed to Singapore from Jinjiang county in south-east Fujian, China, at the age of 28 in 1938, lived in the dormitory. When his wife and two sons joined him in Singapore in 1957, the boatyard foreman rented a one-room flat in Kampong Bugis, which Mr Thio found too cramped.

Now 82, Mr Thio still has vivid memories of the coolies.

“They were frugal and kind-hearted,” he told The Straits Times. “Whoever was short of work and money could borrow cash from the rest to send back home.”

In his mid-teens, he helped the illiterate men by drafting and reading hundreds of letters to and from their families, without charge.

“I realised they only reported the good stuff, like how everything was going smoothly,” he said. “They endured the hardship alone and did not want their family to worry.”

One man who underwent major surgery after an accident kept the news from his family. He borrowed money from fellow coolies – a fraction of his usual remittance – and told his family that it was because odd jobs were harder to come by, Mr Thio recalled.

Over time, Mr Thio became adept at formal letter writing, always beginning with the traditional opening: “At the feet of my revered parents, I respectfully report...”

Replies from home sometimes brought news of deaths or other struggles.

“I watched them holding back tears when I conveyed the bad news,” said Mr Thio. “Even as a young teen, I realised that life is full of ups and downs.”

He also helped out at the boatyard, drilling holes in the boats, buying cigarettes or fetching coffee for the coolies. His father paid him $2 for the work. Skilled workers could earn about $10 a day, while general labourers made $5 to $6.

Mr Thio quit his studies at Xinmin Secondary School after Secondary 3, and spent more than a decade working in the boat-building sector as a general worker. He simply was not interested in studying, he said.

Mr Thio Boon Chin recalls helping out as a teen at the boatyard, drilling holes in the boats, buying cigarettes or fetching coffee for the coolies.

ST PHOTO: ARIFFIN JAMAR

In his 30s, when work dried up, he became a sea coolie for several months, earning about $40 to $50 a day when jobs were available.

At Singapore’s port then, labourers were divided into land coolies, lighter coolies and sea coolies. Sea coolies unloaded goods from ocean-going cargo ships onto smaller vessels moored alongside. These included tongkangs, twakows and sampans, which once crowded Singapore’s waters.

“It was hard work, and there was no guarantee you would get a job every day,” Mr Thio said. “Much depended on connections. I was lucky my uncle, a sea coolie, gave me and my brother some work.”

Each morning, they gathered in Boon Tat Street or Telok Ayer Street for breakfast before the contractor led them to the worksite. From Clifford Pier, a small motorboat ferried them to cargo ships anchored offshore.

Cargo was stacked high in a ship’s hold. A crane would lower a large net, and the coolies’ task was to move the cargo into it. Hand-held hooks were used to pull gunny sacks, while wooden crates were carried on their shoulders.

Mr Thio’s experiences are included in Kindred Waters: Stories Of The Jinjiang Coolie Community In Singapore, published by Singapore Chin Kang Huay Kuan. The clan association, now sited in Bukit Pasoh, was founded in 1918 to support migrants from Jinjiang county.

The 175-page English edition, launched on Dec 19, is translated from a 2019 Chinese volume chronicling the lives of Jinjiang coolies, forerunners of the clan association’s 1,200 members today.

Mr Thio later worked as a taxi driver for 30 years before retiring about a decade ago. A father of three and grandfather of five, he lives with his wife in a three-room flat in Beach Road.

“It was tough manual labour in the past,” he said. “The younger generation, like my children, is more fortunate now.”

Those interested in purchasing the English edition of Kindred Waters ($30) can contact the Singapore Chin Kang Huay Kuan secretariat on 6223-5913 or

chinkang@singnet.com.sg

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