Belongings & Treasures

Though Tan Piah Eng breathed his last at the Bedok Laut kampong house at 614‑3 Bedok Road, he left behind a remarkable collection of personal belongings — everyday objects that have become treasured family heirlooms. His son, Tan Kim Suan, safeguarded these items for decades, preserving not only their physical presence but the stories and memories they carried.

With Kim Suan’s passing in June 2023, these belongings have now passed to the next generation - his grandsons - who continue the family’s long tradition of stewardship. Several significant pieces have also been donated to the National Library Board and the National Archives of Singapore for long‑term preservation, ensuring that Tan Piah Eng’s life and legacy remain part of the nation’s shared memory.

Here, we highlight some of the most poignant objects: items that speak not only to a man’s life, but to the world he lived in, the values he held, and the history that shaped Singapore.

Betel-nut Cracker, 1930s

For a Peranakan family in 1930s, betel chewing was regarded as an everyday gesture of warmth, refinement, and hospitality. We believe Tan Piah Eng had a tepak sirih set - polished brass or silver, arranged with betel leaf, areca nut, and lime – somewhere in his residence at the Bukit Timah Rubber Estate, ready for visiting relatives or neighbours. For the older women in the household, chewing betel with the red tint on their lips would be a familiar sign of age, status, and tradition. This betel-nut cracker that once belonged to Tan had an animal-shaped iron body with two long prongs (typical of early 20^th- century crackers) was used to split the hard areca but before it was wrapped into a quid. It was a working tool and meant to be held in the hand and used daily.

Metal Trunk, 1930s

This metal trunk, imported through Dutch trading houses and likely reused in Tan Piah Eng’s residence, was originally a commercial storage chest, it was lined with 1933 newspapers and colourful European trade labels, then repurposed as a family repository likely in the bedroom.

Within its embossed metal walls, we imagine heirlooms wrapped in sarong cloth, embroidered kebaya, photographs, jewellery and other items of value. More than a utilitarian object, its worn surfaces bear witness to the intimate rituals of inheritance, memory, and identity that shaped the Peranakan family life that was Tan’s.

Remington Typewriter, 1930s

This Remington portable typewriter represents the rise of modern clerical work in colonial Singapore. Manufactured in the early 1930s, it features the company’s signature glass‑topped keys, two‑colour ribbon, and a compact metal body designed for mobility — traits that made Remington one of the most trusted brands in the Straits Settlements.

Used for decades on the Bukit Timah Rubber Estates, the machine typed daily correspondence, administrative reports, and personal appeals, including a surviving 1952 letter written by the estate’s long‑serving manager. Its worn keys and patina reflect a lifetime of service in an era when typewriters were essential tools of plantation management, education, and English‑language communication.

More than a writing instrument, this Remington is a witness to the rhythms of working life in early‑ to mid‑20th‑century Singapore - a bridge between manual labour on the estates and the growing world of modern office administration.

Junghans Wall Clock, 1930s

In the front hall of Tan Piah Eng’s home, a Junghans Westminster clock hung on the wall, its polished brass pendulum catching the afternoon light as its steady tick‑tock threaded through the rooms. Likely purchased in the late 1920s or early 1930s, when German clocks were imported through the High Street shops that supplied Singapore’s rising middle class, it was a symbol of modernity and aspiration. At every quarter hour, the Westminster chime unfurled, and everyone in the household paused almost unconsciously to count the notes as they rang out.

For the family, it was far more than a timekeeper. It became a quiet witness to birthdays, quarrels, weddings, telegrams, and the slow, steady march of the decade toward uncertainty. In his later years, Tan Piah Eng moved the clock to the Bedok kampong house, where its familiar melody continued to sound through the wooden rooms. It was there, with the Westminster chime marking the passing minutes, that he peacefully left this world - the clock keeping time as it always had.

Today, still chiming in the 2020s (with the case replaced in the 1970s due to termite infestation yet keeping closely to the original silhouette) in his son Kim Suan’s home, the clock remains a living thread of continuity. Its melody reminds us that while time moves forward, certain sounds - and the memories they hold, endure.

Singapore Turf Club Membership Envelope, c. 1948–1952

This membership envelope from the Singapore Turf Club once held the annual badge issued to Tan Piah Eng, (member No. 2634) granting him admission to all race meetings for the calendar year. The handwritten name and membership number reflect the Club’s mid‑century administrative style, when each badge served as both proof of subscription and a symbol of social belonging.

During the late 1940s and early 1950s, the Turf Club was a prominent social institution in postwar Singapore, drawing planters, merchants, civil servants, and community leaders to its race days. The printed notice on the envelope outlines the Club’s rules: the badge was non‑transferable, required for entry to the Grandstand, and replaceable only upon payment of a $10 fee — a significant sum at the time.

For Tan Piah Eng, it is a small surviving trace of his participation in the island’s social life, and a reminder of the networks, leisure culture, and aspirations that shaped mid‑20th‑century Singapore.

Post Office Savings Bank Passbook, 1950

This passbook was issued to Tan Piah Eng in May 1950 by the Post Office Savings Bank (POSB), then administered from Kuala Lumpur under the Savings Bank Ordinance of 1948. Printed in English, Tamil, Jawi Malay, and Chinese, it reflects the multilingual, multiethnic character of everyday financial life in postwar Singapore.

The POSB was created to encourage thrift among ordinary residents, offering a safe, government‑backed place to save small amounts. Deposits were recorded by hand at neighbourhood post offices - in Tan’s case, branches at Geylang Road, Kampong Glam, and Newton -  with larger deposits requiring formal acknowledgments from the Central Accounts Office in Kuala Lumpur.

For families rebuilding their lives after the war, the POSB represented stability and trust. This passbook, with its careful entries and well‑worn pages, is a quiet record of Tan Piah Eng’s financial prudence amidst daily life in mid‑20th‑century Singapore.

This passbook has since been donated to and now owned by the National Library Board.

Holland–Indonesia Shipping Agency Perpetual Calendar, c. 1951

This brass and enamel perpetual calendar was produced as a promotional gift by the Holland–Indonesia Shipping Agency, a maritime firm active in Southeast Asian trade during the postwar decades. Designed to function for a 28‑year cycle, its first usable year is 1952, indicating that it was almost certainly distributed towards the end of 1951 as a New Year corporate gift.

Finished in deep blue enamel and decorated with the twelve zodiac symbols, the calendar reflects the mid‑century style of practical yet ornamental desk accessories commonly issued by shipping, insurance, and trading companies across the region. By rotating the inner disc, users could align any month with its corresponding year to determine the correct day of the week - a valuable tool in an era before digital planners.

Such calendars were often found on office desks in Singapore, Malaya, and Indonesia, where they served both as functional stationery and as subtle advertisements for the maritime networks that connected Southeast Asia to global trade routes. For families like Tan Piah Eng’s, it would have been a small but dependable companion for everyday life.