Top image: RICE Media
Space in Singapore is a premium. It’s a reality we’re all too familiar with: tiny apartments, no room to breathe, and still, somehow, expensive. But when it comes to where we draw the line between practicality and ethics, some choices leave us feeling uneasy.
One of them? Using store rooms and HDB bomb shelters as living spaces for live-in migrant domestic helpers.
These spaces are there for storage, for emergencies. But in a country where living space is constantly shrinking and the need for assistance at home rises, they end up being repurposed for our over 286,300 helpers who spend their years looking after our homes.
But let’s pause for a moment—what does it really mean when a bomb shelter, built for protection in a crisis, becomes someone’s place of rest after a day of labour-intensive work? They’re designed to shelter, not sustain. What are we truly projecting to the world when such arrangements are proudly advertised as features?
It’s not just about square footage; it’s about what the space represents. These rooms, often windowless and suffocating, were never meant to be lived in.
Yet, for many employers, they’re a quick fix to the perennial problem of making limited space work while managing high housing costs and hiring help. And perhaps some might argue that having a room the size of a broom closet beats sleeping on a mattress in the kitchen.
The harder question is: have we ever stopped to ask domestic helpers what they want? Are these arrangements something they find acceptable, or do we assume we know best? Without their input, it’s easy to project our own discomfort—or dismiss it altogether.
There’s no easy solution. But it’s worth reflecting on: in solving one problem, are we unintentionally raising even bigger concerns?
Instead of quick fixes, the conversation needs to shift toward finding shared solutions—ones that recognise our space constraints and our growing need for household support without losing sight of the dignity every person deserves.
