My mom and eldest brother soaking on Pulau Sekodok (c. 1980s)
Orang Pulau loosely translated from Malay means People of the Islands; whose origins could be traced back to the different regions of the Nusantara. The Orang Pulau communities of Singapore are not homogenous, as they would comprise of ‘settled’ Orang Laut communities, Bugis, Boyanese, Javanese, Riau and other sub-ethnic Malayo-Austronesian groups who have since racially identified themselves as Malay through a process of amalgamation, and have since resided on the many islands that make up Singapore. One of such islands is Pulau Ubin, located northeast of the mainland.
The Ubin Orang Pulau could be found mostly on the eastern regions of Pulau Ubin, founding and/or residing in settlements which are mostly a stone’s throw away from the nearest coast or river. The main villages include Kampung Sungei Durian, Kampung Surau and Kampung Tanjong – all of which has been generally referred to as Kampung Melayu; whereas small enclaves of the Ubin Orang Pulau could also be seen residing in Kampung Bahru, Kampung Sungei Bamap (Mamam) and Ketuk Batu (Pekan Ubin).
Most children of the Ubin Orang Pulau would receive their primary education at the Sekolah Melayu Pulau Ubin (Pulau Ubin Malay School) in Kampung Surau. When the school was founded in the 1950s, there were a handful of villagers who were above the age of six – which was the standard age for Primary 1 – who took the opportunity to seek knowledge. Most students who could further their education would end up at Changkat Changi Secondary School (then at Jalan Tiga Ratus (Batu Sepuluh)) or the Sang Nila Utama Secondary School. The Sekolah Melayu Pulau Ubin closed down in 1980.
Class photo of the pupils at Sekolah Melayu Pulau Ubin. Photo by Halus Abd Rahman
The Ubin Orang Pulau would be engaged in several jobs on the island. Some would take on civil servant jobs such as the Singapore Police Force Volunteer Corp or as officers within the Public Works Department’s Mosquito Control Vector Unit. Some would be tapping rubber in the rubber tree plantations on the island, or would be mining at the granite quarries such as the one at Ketuk Batu – which literally means hitting rocks in Malay. However, especially during Singapore’s industrialisation from the 1970s, some Ubin Orang Pulau would work in factories on the mainland, with some of them having to travel across the mainland to maintain vessels docked at the Jurong Shipyard.
When the Ubin Orang Pulau are not working or schooling, they would often be found in the mangroves foraging for intertidal creatures or harvesting the fruits and leaves of the nipa palm or having a picnic on the rocky islet of Pulau Sekodok (Sekudu). They could also be seen in the forests foraging for mushrooms and firewood. They would also head out to sea to fish using bamboo stems as makeshift fishing rods, or casting several types of gillnets, or setting up bamboo bubu fishing traps by the coral reefs of Chek Jawa and Sungei Durian. While these activities are primarily seen as a form of sustenance for the Ubin Orang Pulau, these cultural traditions are now seen as a pastime that have since grown challenging in practising today.
For the Ubin Orang Pulau, living on Pulau Ubin meant living together with nature. Being on an island gave them the luxuries of reaping the benefits of the soil, sand, and sea. It reminds us that our cultural and natural heritage go together, as they strongly shape each other.
However, as modernisation and urbanisation render these traditional and indigenous skills and knowledge obsolete, the Ubin Orang Pulau face challenges in keeping their heritage alive. Policies and regulations that restrict their access or abilities to interact with their natural environment put the Ubin Orang Pulau at risk of not being able to pass down these skills to their next of kin, be it both on Pulau Ubin or on the mainland. These challenges are made more dire, as more and more of our elders pass away, burying together with them invaluable stories and histories that remind us that Pulau Ubin is more than just a recreational forested getaway island, but a home filled once thriving and beautiful community with a rich cultural heritage and identity.
For myself, as a descendant of an Ubin Orang Pulau, I cannot help but notice the disparage between what my mom was able to do back then versus what I am able to do now, as well as the many skills and traits that my late grandparents used to do masterfully, but I simply cannot do them now because we are not given the permission to do so. All of these changes in less than fifty years, within just one generation. Life has to change, yes, but I don’t believe that everything that makes up the core identity of who we are needs to be thrown away. Our culture is what shapes us: our beliefs, our values, our character.
I remind myself of the philosophy I hold dearly since embarking on my personal journey of tracing back my roots and heritage as a descendant of an Ubin Orang Pulau: remember your roots. For a tree that grows no matter how tall will come tumbling down if you don’t take care of it. While I have been on this journey for more than six years now, I am certain I have only learned a drop out of an entire ocean of knowledge out there. And as a fellow Malay Singaporean, there is so much I hope to contribute into the colourful tapestry that makes up our multicultural nation of islands. Maybe then, Singapore’s history wouldn’t be that boring?
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