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What's next for sellers at the Sungei Road Thieves' Market
For decades, sellers at the Sungei Road Thieves' Market have managed to stay in business. Their lives will change drastically in July, when the market shuts to make way for residential developments. We ask about their future plans.
One man's trash is another man's treasure. The longevity of the Sungei Road Thieves' Market – where only second-hand goods are sold – has proved this saying true. Singaporeans love a bargain. Operating since the 1930s it is Singapore's oldest flea market and during the '50s and '60s boasted more than 200 stalls.
Rumour has it, some of items for sale were stolen or had fallen odd the back of a truck, giving the market its name. It is the country's last free hawking zone. Sellers do not pay rent for a metre-by-metre stall, allotted on a first-come first-served basis.
Every afternoon, Pasar Lane, Larut Road and Pitt Street are closed so business can begin. As many as 200 sellers crowd along the roads, displaying their wares on colourful mats. They call out to passers-by, who are on the lookout for cheap bargains.
By 7pm, the market closes for the day. Sellers, their stalls and the remaining wares are disappear without a trace. With the market's impending closure in July, the disruption to business will soon be permanent.
Authorities have said that the area will be used for “ground preparation works to facilitate future residential development use”.
Business uprooted
“It's such a waste. The market is part of tradition and history,” says Mr Chua Ngak Theng, who has set up shop for more than 20 years now.
A typical day starts at 9am, when the 62-year-old trawls housing estates and pays a nominal fee for old goods. He strategically prefers to collect low value items such as clothes, small bags and electrical parts.
“Some people sell things for more than $100 dollars, like handphone or antiques. I sell cheaper goods. If every item is sold for a few dollars, it becomes much easier to get rid of stock,” Mr Chua explains. He earns around $30 a day, and a little more on weekends from the trade.
Formerly a worker in a noodle factory, Mr Chua will continue collecting old goods after the market closes in July. He plans to sell them to second-hand shops.
“I love the freedom of being my own boss. It will be very hard to fit into an office environment,” he quips.
Chasing a new venture
Long-time seller, 72, sees the market's closure as a fresh start. Mr Lim will stop selling second-hand items altogether.
He will start running a small shop at Chinatown Market in July, with the support of his daughter and son-in-law. Rent is $570 a month, excluding utilities.
“I haven't decided on what to sell, but I have many ideas including newspapers and bicycles. I will also collect laundry and send it to be professionally washed,” says Mr Lim.
To prepare for the new beginning, he is sourcing for suppliers and has printed name cards.
Mr Lim is no stranger to change. When the regulations on stall size at Sungei Road kicked in, he had to get used to operating from a metre-by-metre space.
“Even on the weekends, there aren't many customers because our stall space is too small. In the past, business was better. Every day, we could make $40 to $50. Now, we make less,” says Mr Lim.
Still, the retired forklift driver does his best. He sets up tables to display goods better, and regularly reaches out to friends for used items like luggage bags.
Currently, Mr Lim's customers are mostly foreigners and migrant workers, hoping to purchase essentials at lower price.
From July, he recognises that his customers will change. Chinatown Market draws a largely Singaporean crowd. “It's scary so I'm starting slow, with the support of my family and friends. I'm planning to take it a month at a time,” says Mr Lim.
Uncertainty looms
Other sellers like Mr Lee Chng Leng, 65, are more uncertain. For one, it was a long wait for an office job that pushed him into the Sungei Road trade in 1996.
“The business model is simple. If you're hardworking, you will have food to eat. If you're lazy and skip work for two or three days, you won't have food to eat,” Mr Lee said.
“I make $20 to $30 a day. As long as I am hardworking, I won't need to depend on the government. I can make a simple living for myself,” he added, speaking in Mandarin.
Like Mr Chua, he sources for items in the morning as a rag-and-bone man, before selling them at the market.
Over the years, fellow sellers have become familiar friends. “During meal times and breaks, we watch each other's stalls,” Mr Lee said. “I also have regular customers who feel that my prices are reasonable.”
A branded fountain pen, for instance, fetches more than $100 in shops. Mr Lee sells a second-hand variety at $20 – a fraction of the price.
On the market's closure, he reflects: “Time passes so quickly. I wish that time would slow down and things would be like how they were 10 years ago. But, time waits for no man.
“So I will go out and look for a job. It doesn't matter what the job is. As long as someone is willing to hire me, and I am up to the task, I would do it. You can't be lazy in Singapore,” Mr Lee concludes.