During my four years in Singapore, I volunteered for Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2), a NGO based in Singapore that dedicates to promoting welfare of migrant workers. As now I have left Singapore for US, I want their stories to be heard, and I hope that more workers can get their dignity deserved.

The picture is Chunming helping out with our outreach after he recovered from his burning.

The red patches near his mouth were oozing putrid yellow liquid. The pinkish wounds on his neck looked like raw meat. The black scabs amidst the sore skin on his hands seemed to be recovering.

I met his eyes, but he quickly looked away. I realized I was staring. Undeterred, I brightly greeted; “Hi, Chunming! I’m also from China. Nice to meet you.”

He did not reply.

Kenneth, the social worker from Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2) who came with me, chirped; “Hey Chunming, I’ve brought this friend for you! You two can have a little good talk.”

It was a clean white room with eight beds. The old folks living here had gone for their lunch — we were the only two left.

“We went to buy these for you,” I stuttered, stumbling over towards the desk to place two bags of snacks on it. “These are all my favorites. I’m sure you’ll like them.”

He was not looking at me.

I took a seat across from him, and tried to initiate some conversation. “Do you want to share your stories with me?” I asked.

He still did not reply.

It reminded me many other Chinese migrant workers like him. The first time I did public outreach for TWC2 in Geylang(the red light district where Chinese migrant workers usually reside), they dismissed me before I even speak. I felt frustrating: they are so apathetic towards the injustice suffered that their indifference has become a danger to them —- the SMRT(the public transport company in Singapore) drivers crossed the legal boundaries and went on strike; Bangladeshi workers stayed here illegally after their Workers’ Permit being cancelled by employers.

As I began to connect with Chunming, I learnt that he came to Singapore as a kitchen helper via an agent, who promised decent pay. Every month, he sent 80 per cent of his salary back home in Henan province. He was the sole breadwinner for his family that consists a young sister, an ill mother, and a paralyzed father. And now everything he had here was atomised by the gas fire, the explosion in that ramshackle kitchen where he once chopped, peeled and dreamed of a better future.

To ensure the standard of living of average Singaporeans, cheap foreign labour fill up jobs Singaporeans shun at depressing wages. Regulatory policies implemented remain reactive. However, they are just like the ancestors of Singaporeans, who came here with the hope of better life through hard work. These vulnerable workers need the empowerment of knowledge on rights and legal means of help, which would not be possible without more embracing attitudes and greater activism from the community. And only when people genuinely appreciate what they have done can real changes take place.

Upon leaving, I turned back to Chunming, “Be brave — I will be your friend.” After all, he was just 19 years old, same age as me. His doubtful eyes looked up, and I gave him a reassuring smile. I know for both of us, the journey ahead will not be easy, but I am grateful and upbeat because we are getting closer to where we want to be.