In the fight to save Singapore’s heritage businesses, who gets a voice?

SINGAPORE – Self-taught garland maker R. Jayaselvam knows a thing or two about impermanence, having run Anushia Flower Shop in Little India since he opened it in 1994.

The 61-year-old Singaporean works with fresh jasmine buds. Once they bloom by nightfall, they lose their appeal to customers and must be discarded.

Mr Jayaselvam, who primarily caters to Indian weddings, has also taught community classes in a bid to keep his trade alive. But that seems likely to remain a pipe dream; his students are usually casual hobbyists, not keen to follow in his footsteps professionally.

That tension between admiration and actual durability now sits at the heart of Singapore’s debate over heritage businesses. While these have gained more formal recognition than before, the real struggle is over who gets to decide what counts, who gets support, and whether recognition without structural help can save anything.

The past couple of years have not been kind to heritage institutions.

Recall the successive closures in Holland Village in 2024, from Thambi Magazine Store to party paraphernalia shop Khiam Teck, which remade the expatriate enclave almost beyond recognition. More recently, nasi padang stalwart Warong Nasi Pariaman shuttered permanently at the end of January after a 78-year run – a seeming casualty in the fight to retain Kampong Gelam’s identity.

Even Komala Vilas, one of Little India’s best-known vegetarian restaurants and now a designated heritage business, has been closed for renovations since January, with no clear word on when or whether it will reopen.

The Government has taken notice, forming an inter-agency task force in February 2025 to support heritage businesses, traditional activities and cultural life. The National Heritage Board’s (NHB) inaugural SG Heritage Business Scheme followed, with 42 recipients including Anushia Flower Shop announced in October after a search that began in March. 

But while state recognition is validating, according to the 13 businesses ST spoke with, it offers cold comfort when market forces may still have the final say. 

When identity affects heritage

To start, a shared definition of “heritage” is central to deciding which heritage businesses to support. But this can be complicated when heritage reflects a society’s collective values and identity, which are fluid and can change as communities evolve.

For instance, the Singapore Heritage Society, a non-profit dedicated to heritage conservation, understands heritage to be “living”.

Honorary secretary Han Ming Guang says: “Our society was built on immigrants, and for the next (few decades), it’ll continue to be built on new people and cultures coming in.” 

This, in turn, influences Singaporeans’ everyday interests and habits.

Chinese bookstore Maha Yu Yi, a designated heritage business, has seen the impact of an increasing awareness of China’s significance. 

Its manager, Ms Sung Yuen Ling, says its customers include Chinese Singaporean workers looking to brush up on their Mandarin to interact with counterparts from China, English-speaking parents hoping their children can be bilingual, and university students seeking to connect with classmates from China on the social media app Xiaohongshu.

Who gets to define heritage?

The issue is not simply whether heritage changes. It is also who gets to interpret that change and whose version of heritage becomes official.

As each generation develops its own identity, it also defines what is worth protecting, adds Dr Yeo Kang Shua, an architectural historian and associate professor at the Singapore University of Technology and Design.

He believes academics and the Government are responsible for building a shared identity and heritage across generations, and that there should be more transparency in how the state decides which businesses to support and whether those decision-makers represent the public.

Cultural economist Swati Sharma makes a similar point. Deciding what to preserve, she says, is not an “organic” process, but an “ongoing negotiation” between states, communities and individuals, so there will be groups that are “overlooked”.

“We make a conscious decision about what we want to carry forward from the past generation to the next generation. We’re deciding what’s worth remembering and what we want to forget,” adds Dr Sharma, who lectures at Nanyang Technological University’s School of Social Sciences. 

NHB’s scheme looks for heritage businesses that have been operating for at least 30 years, offer traditional trades, goods or services, demonstrate strong community impact and are committed to maintaining their heritage. 

Its purpose is “not to regulate or define who or what can be considered a heritage business”, says Ms Melissa Tan, director of heritage policy and research. 

It was designed to be relevant to the communities and businesses themselves. It hopes to represent not just diverse trades but the varying life stages of a business: Some remain single-family owned, while others have become international chains.

While it started in the central district, the work to uncover and support more such businesses around Singapore is ongoing.

Though it is essential for the survival of some businesses, this policy, by its very existence, inevitably shapes Singapore’s heritage through what it recognises or does not.

Such state intervention is not unique to Singapore, notes Dr Sharma.

Heritage reflects culture, which is often considered a “merit good” or beneficial for society. Many governments understand that supporting cultural identities can contribute to better social cohesion. 

But Dr Sharma says that the long-term benefits are not always commercially viable, so people tend to “underdemand and sometimes even undervalue” these goods. Left entirely to the free market, it can lead to underconsumption and the demise of traditional businesses.

Ultimately, when a heritage business is concerned with economic survival, the paying customer shapes the country’s heritage. 

Mr Han of the Singapore Heritage Society believes many do not fully grasp this. Whenever a heritage business closes, people blame the lack of government support for operational or rental costs. But the issue is more complex. 

On the one hand, successful businesses may shut because retiring owners do not trust an outsider with their decades-old family business. The second, and perhaps more common, reason is that they can no longer sustain themselves “either due to rental or consumers”.

If businesses do evolve, they must also weigh change against tradition to avoid alienating existing or new customers, a tricky balance that some do not achieve.

“Then we have to ask ourselves if it’s a service or business that’s still relevant in Singapore today. I don’t think we can constantly rely on the state to step in,” Mr Han says.

Mr Chester Matthias Tan, founder of the non-profit Heritage Business Foundation, points out another unfortunate reality: Many of these trades have become hobbies, no longer seen as necessary skills to survive. And if nobody depends on them, there is little motivation to save them. 

Awareness alone is not enough

Heritage may be widely valued in principle, but that appreciation does not always translate into spending, with recent surveys highlighting this disconnect.

NHB’s Heritage Awareness Survey 2024 found that 87 per cent agreed that these businesses are important in promoting an appreciation of Singapore’s history, heritage and culture. Yet, the Heritage Business Feasibility Study, which NHB commissioned in 2023, found that only 46 per cent of respondents regularly purchase from such businesses. The study also suggested that low consumer support could be due to limited awareness of heritage goods and services. 

To increase accessibility, NHB has created an online registry of the 42 recognised businesses, launched a marketing campaign, and will soon offer tailored consultancy support. 

“What’s key is reducing the barriers for practitioners who are willing and able to pass on their trade, and making it easier for Singaporeans to understand the need to take care of our intangible cultural heritage,” adds Ms Tan. 

But the reality seems less straightforward for businesses. Some bemoan the laborious application process to even be considered for the scheme.

Mr Haffidz Abdul Hamid, general manager of Haj-travel specialist Halijah Travels, quips that it felt like writing a thesis, even as he understood the need for rigour. While his niece helped with the paperwork that eventually secured his company a spot, he suspects other heritage business owners may not have the time to compile extensive documentation.

So when it comes to practical help, Mr Han suggests instead giving these businesses priority to bid for a space in certain areas or keeping the rent low “because they fit into the landscape”.

Protecting heritage via tourism?

Locating heritage businesses in areas associated with their history also increases appreciation for their trade, and retains the sense of “authenticity” needed to attract tourists, adds sociologist and Associate Professor Ho Kong Chong from the National University of Singapore. 

“You cannot dissociate heritage from tourism.” 

Take Chinese medical halls and designated heritage businesses Chop Wah On, a Chinatown mainstay for 110 years, and Thye Shan Medical Hall along New Bridge Road. 

Chop Wah On’s third-generation owner, Mr Tong Kok Wing, tells ST that it has a return customer from Germany who visits just for balms for his father. 

Thye Shan’s general manager Chan Mei Yi shares that the shop’s prime location means it often sees tourists stepping in. Many are interested in the “cultural aspect” of traditional Chinese medicine, which employees see as an opportunity to educate their customers.

Dr Sharma notes the rise in travellers looking for more “experiential and authentic” experiences, so supporting individual businesses benefits the broader economy too.

She recalls watching a video of a tourist who summarised their Singapore experience as “mostly malls and money”. Recognising heritage businesses could help change this common perception.

“We’re trying to add a bit of depth to the visitor experience, and make the city more appealing to tourists who value culture a bit more than just commercial experiences.” 

At the same time, this resurfaces the longstanding concern of whether tourism and heritage conservation can ever truly go hand in hand – and whether gentrification, with its erosion of local communities and character, is inevitable.

Urban planning plays an important role in managing the shifting identity of a place, as it directly shapes the business landscape by determining what can be built and how a space can be used, adds Dr Felicity Chan, founder of urban planning research consultancy Topo-phi.

“In Singapore, where the city is the state, the planning of the city is also the planning of the state. Whatever is happening to the city is also part of national identity.”

Changing identities, changing heritage?

This shift in shared identity has not been without friction, with shophouse sales in Kampong Gelam the latest point of contention. 

An increase in investor demand for the district’s more than 600 conserved shophouses has led to rising rents. Longstanding heritage tenants now face steeper competition from international chains, souvenir shops and massage parlours, according to reports.

While public angst may be valid, observers also stress that people should expect culture to evolve and that authenticity in expression may be the true touchstone of what resonates with a community.

“The onus is on each society to preserve, transmit and celebrate the culture that it wishes to see passed down. That could involve effort (from) artisans, government, parents, educators, media and more,” says Mr Tan of the Heritage Business Foundation. 

NHB’s Ms Tan adds that because many heritage businesses manage living heritage, such as culinary practices, they will naturally transform over time too. The Government does not “artificially” preserve businesses.

What is key is that heritage, regardless of how it evolves, remains a way for people to understand one another as Singapore “navigates the plurality of narratives” in a maturing society.

It already has a head start. Dr Sharma argues that Singapore’s authentic heritage is its “multicultural, multilingual character” – which shows up in everyday experiences from what people eat to how they talk. Ideally, the way people live aligns with what is officially recognised.

This is why exposure matters. Dr Yeo believes creating more opportunities to engage with heritage businesses regularly means more people have a stake in saving these businesses.

Mr Tan thinks adding the commercial aspect can be good too: A thriving heritage business may inspire others to learn the trade.

But some businesses are not holding out hope. Ms Fauzia Rani, the third-generation owner of Islamic and haj-related goods store VSS Varusai Mohamed & Sons, says neither her children nor nieces and nephews are interested in the family business.

Her father, who prepared her to succeed him, still runs it with her. But “I think eventually the business will close down”, she says. “That’s how I see it.” 

Her clear-eyed stance begs the question: In a country that never stops reinventing itself, is letting some heritage businesses die the more honest cultural outcome? 

There is no easy answer. But Dr Yeo offers a lens to view inevitable loss in a progress-driven society. “Sometimes we need to allow heritage to die in a very dignified way. The key is whether we have given the heritage a chance to live,” he says. 

“If we have and it still doesn’t survive, then I think it’s time to go. And when it’s time, the next question is whether we’ve documented it properly. If we do, then maybe the knowledge isn’t lost.”

As with all living things, the impermanence of heritage may be an inescapable reality. It forces a sobering assessment about what makes us who we are, what we will fight to save, and what we are in fact prepared to let go.