A Singaporean office worker often found himself surrounded by colleagues from Malaysia, many of whom were either permanent residents or had converted to citizenship. On most days, he kept to himself, quietly finishing his tasks and minding his own business. But over time, he began to notice a pattern that stirred something uncomfortable inside him.
“Haha we skipped National Service and buy HDB”
During lunch breaks or casual chats, some of these colleagues would proudly talk about the advantages they enjoyed after moving to Singapore — buying an HDB flat, securing stable jobs, enjoying the safety and convenience that Singapore was known for. They spoke openly about how life here was “shiok,” comparing it with the cost of living and space back in Malaysia. A few even joked light-heartedly about how they “skipped” national service altogether.
He never said anything out loud, but inside, it stung a little. As someone who grew up here, went through the education system, served two years of National Service, and continued with reservist duties every year, he sometimes felt like his sacrifices were invisible. Hearing people celebrate the same benefits he earned through duty and obligation — without experiencing any of it themselves — made him feel conflicted.
What made it worse was when some colleagues revealed how they structured their lives for maximum benefits. Some kept their spouse as a Malaysian citizen so they could retain properties on both sides of the border. They talked about it casually, with a sense of achievement, as though it were a clever life hack.
He wasn’t angry at them personally, but the situation triggered something deeper — a quiet frustration about fairness, responsibility and identity. He knew it wasn’t really about them; it was about the system, the circumstances, and the emotional weight of feeling taken for granted.
Still, he reminded himself that everyone came from different backgrounds and made choices that worked for their families. Over time, he learned to process those feelings more calmly, recognising that while their paths were different, his own contributions still mattered — even if no one talked about them over lunch.