Fresh from the farms in Singapore

A new generation of young people are ensuring farmsin Singapore stay vibrant, viable and relevant
Christa Yeo, Straits Times 21 Feb 10;

The next time you munch on a serving of kai lan, relish this thought: It might have been grown in Singapore soil and nurtured by one of Singapore's fourth generation of farmers.

Yes, farmers.

Singapore may be known for its office blocks, high-rise buildings and 24/7 urban vibe, but in the island's sleepy, semi-rural hinterland covering 700ha in the north-west, there are still 227 farms in existence.

In that area, vegetables are not the only things that are fresh.

While many of the farms face the prospect of a young generation who want to swop the outdoors life for an airconditioned office, there is a handful of young farmers under 30 - both men and women - who are carrying on family businesses.

The new breed are a tech-savvy bunch who are enthusiastic about a job based on old-style commodities such as vegetables, frogs, fish, poultry and dairy products - but given a modern twist.

These days, many of these farms are open to the public. School tours and walk-in customers provide a welcome stream of revenue.

One such young farmer is 26-year-old William Huang, who has worked at Kok Fah Technology Farm for nearly four years.

The farm, founded by his uncle, Mr Wong Kok Fah, supplies vegetables such as kai lan, cai xin, kang kong and spinach to NTUC FairPrice's Pasar label and other markets around Singapore.

Mr Huang, a civil and structural engineering diploma holder, is the fourth-generation family member to work on a farm and he has already made his mark, introducing an automated vegetable-packing machine.

He says: 'I used to wonder how my uncle and father were able to work every single day, but now that I'm following in their footsteps, I understand that it's their passion that is driving them, as well as a commitment to their families.'

But down on the farm, Mr Huang is the exception these days.

Take second-generation farmer William Ho, 43, who took over his father Ho Seng Choon's chicken farm in 1994, turning it into a game farm.

The father of two girls, aged 10 and seven, is unsure if it will remain a family business when they grow up.

He says: 'I cannot force my daughters to come and work on the farm. If they are interested, I don't mind passing it on to them but I wouldn't want to force them.'

Mr Ho adds: 'I'm afraid that the younger generation cannot endure hardship. This job is not glamorous and is dirty. '

Many older folk can empathise with his lament: 'Children these days don't know where their food comes from. They don't know the chicken they eat have feathers and are not originally from a supermarket.'

LifeStyle spoke to farmers from several of the farms in Mandai, Lim Chu Kang and Sungei Tengah, and found only a handful of fresh faces amid the generations who were happy to toil on the land.

Indeed, the lack of interest in farming among younger Singaporeans is evident in the small intake for Ngee Ann Polytechnic's Horticulture and Landscape Management diploma course.

The 13-year-old course, in partnership with National Parks Singapore, has a small but steady intake of about 50 to 60 students per year.

Mr Gregory Chow, senior lecturer and course manager, says: 'There are no official statistics but students who graduate from this course go on to pursue careers in nurseries, resorts and landscape industries.'

However, universities in Singapore do not offer a horticulture degree programme. Students who want to pursue their green interest further tend to go to universities in Australian cities such as in Queensland and Melbourne.

One such degree-holder from Queensland is 26-year-old Muhammad Haider. He is now 'farm chief', as owner Ivy Singh-Lim of Bollywood Veggies puts it. She is also the founder of Kranji Countryside Association, which represents farmers in the area.

Mrs Evelyn Eng-Lim, 63, who owns Green Circle Eco Farm in Lim Chu Kang, echoes Mr Ho's concerns about an uncertain future.

Her husband Lim Tian Soo, also 63, co-owns the farm and the couple have no children. She says: 'There is no farming culture here and in this electronic age, young people are so removed from nature.'

But she adds: 'I really welcome young people but they must be committed. They cannot expect to acquire a lot of knowledge in a short amount of time and they shouldn't expect to get rich.'

Mr Ho also says: 'Farmers are often required to go beyond the call of duty as nothing is predictable on a farm and we make a lot of sacrifices.

'Are they ready for that?'

Who says frogs are slimy?
Chelsea Wan, 26, Jurong Frog Farm
Straits Times 21 Feb 10;

Meet Singapore's Frog Princess, Chelsea Wan.

Clad in a T-shirt and shorts,she is a no-nonsense professional. She hands over a business card that describes her as a 'frogologist'' at Jurong Frog Farm, which supplies 25 per cent of the frogs that Singaporeans consume daily.

Any misconceptions about the next generation of frog farmers are dispelled when she opens her mouth, revealing a tongue with a trendy stud piercing.

The sociology major from the National University of Singapore says she earns 25 per cent less than her peers, but the laidback lifestyle and job satisfaction make up for that.

Yet, when she started working full-time three years ago at her father's farm, she found the stinky American bullfrogs too offputting to touch.

It was not a future she had envisaged when growing up. 'Even though I was running around with chickens and dogs, I never wanted to touch the frogs nor did I think of working on the farm,' she says.

Her father, 58-year-old Wan Bock Thiaw, set up the farm in 1981 in Jurong but moved to the 0.6ha patch in Lim Chu Kang Road in 1997.

He and his wife Quee Fong, 53, import frogs from Malaysia and Taiwan to slaughter for local restaurants and wet markets.

Her brother Jackson, 21, is awaiting admission into Nanyang Technological University to study applied physics and has not expressed interest in joining the family business.

They raise their own frogs too and sell eels, turtles and catfish to restaurants and zichar stalls and at the farm store, as well as hold educational tours.

The tours make use of her marketing skills. In fact, when she was at school, she wanted to be an events coordinator or marketer.

It was a project for university that opened her eyes to the possibility of working on her parents' frog farm after graduation.

She recalls: 'The project was to develop a business plan for an existing product. I suggested that we use a farm product called hashima because I'm familiar with it.'

Hashima is also known as snow jelly and is the oviduct fat of frogs.

It was once a royal treat for Chinese emperors. When cooked in liquid, the fat, which is tasteless, looks like cloudy globules. Most people eat it for its reputed beautifying properties and benefit to the lungs and kidneys.

The farm sells chilled bowls of hashima cooked with red dates and gingko nuts in rock sugar syrup.

'We have regular customers who drive up to buy the hashima because it is priced cheaper than elsewhere,' she says. A bowl is $3.50, compared to $8 at Crystal Jade Palace Restaurant in Ngee Ann City.

These days, she has got over finding frogs 'slimy and sticky'. But she handles the frogs only during guided tours.

The rest of the time, the farm's four foreign workers feed the frogs twice a day and take turns to slaughter an average of 8 tonnes or 32,000 frogs a month.

A routine day sees her guiding tours, bookkeeping, manning the retail counter where customers can buy products such as frog legs and essence of bullfrog with ginseng and cordyceps, and maintaining the company website and Facebook fan page.

Being on a farm does not make for an isolated social life: She has a 23-year-old South African boyfriend who lends a hand with repairs around the farm.

She says: 'I enjoy the autonomy that comes with it, but I have to take initiative to improve the farm. It takes a lot of discipline, motivation, perseverance and time to succeed.'

A passion for veggies
William Huang, 26, Kok Fah Technology Farm
Straits Times 21 Feb 10;

Farming may not be popular in urban Singapore, but at Kok Fah Technology Farm, fourth-generation farmer William Huang is gung-ho.

Tech-savvy Huang, a nephew of the owner of the vegetable farm, 49-year-old Wong Kok Fah, is introducing new ideas to improve efficiency.

The 26-year-old father of two does not need to toil under the sun as his great- grandfather, grandfather, father and uncles once did, saying 'they have already set the foundation for us so what we can do is to look into new directions and introduce new technology'.

He roped in younger brother Wei De, 23, after he graduated last year from independent education institution PSB Academy. Wei De has administrative duties such as writing up proposals and plans.

Mr Huang, who has worked nearly four years as a full-time employee on the farm in Lim Chu Kang, is more hands-on.

He drives around the five farms, which span about 10 football fields, supervising foreign workers, planning new developments with consultants and conducting tours for schoolchildren and other visitors.

The farm grows kai lan and other vegetables for FairPrice supermarkets. It also sells parsley, bok choy, lady's fingers, endive and aloe vera at a weekend market that has been held at the farm since 2004.

The civil and structural engineering diploma holder is experimenting with artificial light and its effect on crops and hopes to make Kok Fah Technology Farm a pesticide-free one soon.

He has already implemented an automated system to pack the vegetables for export efficiently and with minimal manual labour.

He says: 'If I had known that I would join the farm full-time, I would have taken courses related to agriculture.

'I still wouldn't rule out the possibility of furthering my studies, but I will do something related to farming.'

He joined the farm after national service because he found it a 'worthwhile career' and he had already been helping out and learning from his farming elders during school holidays.

Mr Wong was only too pleased to take his nephew on, saying in Mandarin: 'We were worried that there wouldn't be anyone to take over from us, but now that the brothers are here, we are relieved.'

He adds: 'Two youngsters are better than none. Even though we know they do things differently from us, we hope this is a good start in welcoming new blood.'

One significant difference between the generations lies in their work ethic.

Mr Wong, who is married with three children, aged 16, 12 and three, has worked tirelessly 365 days a year every year since setting up the farm with his three brothers in 1979.

'Even if the farm is closed to customers, we still need to check on the vegetables to make sure they have been watered and harvested accordingly,' he explains.

In contrast, Mr Huang, who has a two-year-old daughter and a one-year-old son, has cut down on his working hours because he does not want to miss out on his children's growing-up years.

'I used to wonder how my uncle and father were able to work every single day but now I understand that it's their passion that drives them, as well as a commitment to their families,' says Mr Huang, who lives in an HDB flat in Choa Chu Kang.

But what about the fifth generation?

He says: 'I wouldn't pressure my children to take over the farm when they are older, but if they are interested, why not?'

While Mr Wong does not see himself retiring yet, he is realistic, saying: 'This industry cannot be studied from books. So much of it comes from practical experience and not many young people want to lead this way of life.

'As elders like myself get older, I wouldn't mind passing the farm to the brothers. I will be at ease as long as there is someone to inherit the business.'

Goats beat statistics
Stephanie Hay, 25, Hay Dairies
Straits Times 21 Feb 10;

She has a degree in banking and finance and a master's in professional accounting, but these days she is not a bean-counter. She milks goats instead.

Meet Stephanie Hay, the new blood at Hays Dairies goat farm in Lim Chu Kang.

After graduating from Monash University in Melbourne, Australia, she returned home in November last year and began working full-time on the farm, the second generation to do so.

It was founded by her parents John Hay, 55, and Doreen, 50, in 1988.

The name Hay may sound Caucasian but it is an 'Anglicised' version of the Chinese pronunciation, Xia.

The 25-year-old goat farmer used to want to be a banker but 'as I grew up and looked at my friends who are working, they look so stressed. If I can do farming, then why would I want to be so stressed for? Farming is a better alternative'.

She adds: 'I did my master's to be practical, but I returned to the farm to work full-time because I have an interest in farming and I'm used to the way of life. I probably wouldn't last long in an office.'

Many young people would turn their noses up at her daily routine: feeding baby goats at 6am, milking the mother goats later and pasteurising and bottling the milk.

Her day ends early, at 6 or 7pm.

But she says, without a hint of a complaint: 'I can't go out drinking or clubbing with my friends because at the end of the day, I would already be very tired.'

Many parents would have wanted their offspring to land a cushy office job if they had her accounting qualifications, but her parents are happy with her choice. 'We welcomed her with open arms,' says Mrs Hay.

When LifeStyle visited the farm on the third day of Chinese New Year, business was brisk. A steady stream of customers, a mix of local and expatriate families, had driven there to buy plastic bottles of fresh milk packed in styrofoam cooler boxes.

Goat's milk, the only product from the farm, is sold there at $2 for 200ml and $7 for 800ml.

The milk comes in original or chocolate flavour. The farm sells directly to customers either from its premises or through home deliveries six days a week.

Feeding and milking times for the almost 1,000 goats were over but Ms Hay willingly changed back into her work uniform of white polo T-shirt, jeans and white rubber boots to have her photo taken with a baby goat.

Her experience of 'being on the farm since the first day she was born', as her mother put it, is evident in the way the young farmer lovingly cradled the baby goat when it began to fidget.

When asked if it would be more practical and less labour intensive to just hire more foreign workers to help with the feeding and milking, she says: 'We are dealing with live animals here and goats are like dogs, affectionate and playful, so we feel that foreign workers may not be able to give them the attention and affection they need.'

Her parents, who previously ran a pig farm called Yak Seng Hay in Punggol, also have the help of their elder son, Leon, 31, on the farm. He joined after national service and is married with two daughters, aged four and one.

The entire Hay family live in a one-storey house on the grounds. The five adults and two children occupy four spacious bedrooms.

Ms Hay's life on the farm may have shielded her from the uncertainties a banker may have to face these days, but her future with the farm is not cast in stone either.

'I'm learning how business is done and maybe one day, I will start my own too,' she says.

From spiders to farm
Muhammad Haidir, 24, Bollywood Veggies
Straits Times 21 Feb 10;

It was the case of an employee with a fake degree and an employer who stood up for him in court that led Mr Muhammad Haidir to become a farmer.

Reading about the 2007 case in The Straits Times, he was moved to write to Mrs Ivy Singh-Lim about becoming a farmer at her Bollywood Veggies farm in Kranji.

Mrs Singh-Lim, the past president of Netball Singapore, had fought for Shivalingam Chandrasekaran to stay in Singapore even after he was discovered to have gained employment at her farm with a fake botany degree from India.

She did so because she was impressed with his work as a farm supervisor for six years. After the verdict, she paid his fines but he was sentenced to jail for two weeks and then deported to India.

One man's mistake was another man's gain, as Mr Haidir became a temporary employee on the farm in 2008.

Mrs Singh-Lim is married to Mr Lim Ho Seng, former CEO of NTUC FairPrice supermarkets. They have a daughter from his previous marriage.

Mr Haidir, who is the eldest of three children, is no stranger to nurturing plants and the great outdoors. He already had a diploma in horticulture and landscape planning from Ngee Ann Polytechnic.

He went on to impress Mrs Singh-Lim so much that she loaned him money in 2008 to obtain a driving licence and take a one-year course to get a bachelor of science degree in Queensland, Australia. The normally four-year degree programme was shortened to one year from exemptions granted because of his relevant diploma.

Mrs Singh-Lim, who was not able to recall the loan amount but said it was five digits, says: 'I didn't worry that he was never going to repay the loans. I was already sure of his character and I know that he is an honest boy who puts in good work for me.'

The founder of the Kranji Countryside Association is known for not mincing her words and she has nothing but glowing compliments for Mr Haidir.

The 24-year-old, who called himself a 'nature boy' who grew up in the HDB heartlands catching spiders, returned from Australia with a bachelor of applied science with a major in plants and resumed working on the farm in September last year.

His daily duties include managing the farm's five foreign workers, overseeing the operations of the farm, leading tours and conducting activities such as treasure hunts.

The farm produces organic vegetables such as aloe vera, bitter gourd, capsicum, lady's fingers, tapioca and wintermelon.

Bollywood Veggies does not supply produce to external sources, but has positioned itself as an educational and entertainment farm.

It also has an onsite eatery Poison Ivy bistro and up to 90 per cent of what diners eat there is from the farm.

The farmboy with green fingers also works his magic on computers. He is able to repair them and troubleshoot problems for friends and he hopes to pioneer new innovations that marry agriculture with technology in the farming industry.