
Yes, you can go forest bathing in Singapore – this 49-year-old guide took us to the Botanic Gardens
Forest bathing is, simply, spending time in a forest or natural environment, and the slow, mindful immersion of all senses to connect with nature.
'You don't need a forest for forest bathing,' declared the 49-year-old Yap. 'You just need to be around greenery. You can even do this indoors with a plant around you.'
Yap is a certified guide by the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy, a global organisation for forest therapy training.
'To me, the 'forest' in forest bathing loosely refers to nature. Forest bathing is about finding connection with nature,' she said.
Originating in Japan during the early 1980s, the practice of forest bathing is rooted in ancient Shinto and Buddhist traditions, as well as modern scientific research. Studies have shown that it improves physical, mental and emotional health by reducing stress, lowering blood pressure and improving immune function.
I had arrived 15 minutes late from a difficult school drop-off for my kids. And as I sat in a circle of strangers, my mind was still darting between my to-do lists. When we began in a yoga-like fashion, eyes closed, breathing deeply, I struggled to even keep my eyes shut.
As Yap invited us to focus on each of our senses, my ears tuned in to the sporadic chirping of birds, my nose picked up the green scent of wet grass, my skin felt the soft drop of rain as it bounced off my skin.
As my mind gradually stilled, Yap invited us to go on a solitary short walk through the glistening garden. It was a path I had treaded many times – for picnics, to cafes, to playdates for my kids – but never so purposelessly.
I wandered amidst low hanging branches, bushes heavy with flowers and weeds growing rampant on the grass. By the time I returned, I wasn't half as frazzled as before.
Finally, to end the hour-long session, Yap invited us to bring a gift back from nature. It was a treasure hunt for fallen flora and foliage. I returned with a fern-like leaf for my daughter's bedroom.
That was it. My first forest bathing experience. No forest in sight.
BECOMING A FOREST BATHING GUIDE
'My job as a forest bathing guide is to open the door to nature for you and plant a seed that will one day grow,' Yap said. This 'door' refers to a deeper connection with nature.
'Many go to the park with intention, and are often running or walking very fast,' she said. Because of that, they don't slow down and fully immerse in nature.
Being a forest bathing guide is Yap's passion project; she earns her living as co-founder of Serious Media, a digital marketing agency with multinational clients. It is a fast-paced role, and by September 2021, three years after she co-founded the business, Yap was burnt out. 'I woke up and said, this is enough. I couldn't continue,' she recalled.
That was still during the pandemic, so Yap took a 10-day break in Singapore and tried three new things: baking, knife painting and forest bathing.
In fact, she arrived at the Healing Garden in the Singapore Botanic Gardens for her nature immersion with an upset stomach after lunch. 'It was raining and I was holding an umbrella. There were a lot of mosquitoes. I was bitten left, right, centre,' she laughed.
But as she eased into the session, all her physical discomfort fell away.
'I'll never forget that feeling of the wind blowing on my skin. I felt so alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was surprised by how bright the colours were,' she recalled.
When her guide invited her to 'befriend' a tree, it did not strike her as odd. She simply went up to a tree, touched it and leaned on it, and somehow, her stomach felt better, she said.
'After my session, I looked at the signage and realised this tree heals people with stomach issues when parts of it are consumed.'
It was such a magical experience that six weeks later, Yap signed up for a forest-bathing guide course with the United States-based Association of Nature and Forest Therapy. 'It turned out to be a healing process for me,' she said.
NATURE AS THERAPIST
With the pandemic still raging, sessions were conducted over six months via Zoom with participants heading outdoors. It was during one of those sessions that Yap broke down in front of some 30 international course mates.
Tasked to sit under a tree for self-reflection, Yap felt a connection to the tree and her thoughts began to wander to her beloved late grandmother, who died at the age of 78 due to respiratory problems. Yap was 40 then.
On the day she died, she had just been discharged from hospital, but died unexpectedly as the ambulance pulled up to her HDB block. Yap, who had been following the ambulance in her uncle's car, did not even get to say goodbye.
'My grandmother raised me for the first seven years of my life and was like a mother to me. I felt like my world collapsed. Her death also led me to question what this life is for,' Yap told CNA Women.
As these memories filled her mind, Yap started tearing, and soon, this became breathless sobs. 'It felt like a therapy session,' she said.
Three years later, after pandemic restrictions on travel were lifted, Yap made a trip to Yakushima Island in Japan in October 2023 to complete her forest bathing course. As a final ritual, she wandered into an ancient forest and spent four hours on her own.
'I came out (of the forest) with a heart of gratitude, and as I was sharing my experience (with my course mates), I broke down and cried. Something was released in me,' she said.
The experience changed the way Yap approaches life today.
'In Singapore today, everything is just fast, fast, fast. We think that it is the norm to go fast. It is not. We are not built to be like that.
''Fast' can mean efficiency and being ahead of the game, But it can also mean making hasty decisions. It can bring you stress,' Yap reflected.
'I used to be like that. I walked, talked, ate and did everything fast. I couldn't sit still. The biggest learning for me is to slow down,' she added. 'I now know how to take a pause and make mental space for myself. I will say, I'm not feeling okay today.
'Whenever I am faced with challenges or feel down, I spend time in nature. And even though I may not have solved the problem, I feel like the weight of the world has lifted off.'
IMMERSING IN NATURE IN SINGAPORE
Today, despite her busy full-time job, Yap makes time to lead others on this experience via her company A Good Rest.
'While forest bathing is still new in Singapore, I hope it will be like yoga one day, where almost everyone that you speak to would say, I have done it before or I'm actually doing it weekly,' she said.
In addition, Yap also hopes to organise a weekly reading club in nature.
View this post on Instagram
A post shared by A Good Rest (@a.good.rest)
'I want to be an advocate for rest,' she said. 'Rest is important; you don't need to feel guilty about rest.'
She hopes her children, aged 19 and 21, will benefit from this. 'They are born in an era where everything is fast, and everything they consume is digital. I don't think the word 'rest' is even in their headspace. I hope my children will learn what rest is,' she said.
'Rest does not only mean taking 10 days off for a holiday. In a world that is full of problems, noise and stress, sometimes all we need to do is take that one step out.
'Go to your park, or a quiet spot, sit under a tree and just be with yourself for a few minutes. That is the best way to enjoy nature,' she said.
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CNA
12 hours ago
- CNA
Yes, you can go forest bathing in Singapore – this 49-year-old guide took us to the Botanic Gardens
When she mentions forest bathing, Hazel Yap often gets asked: 'Huh? Where is the forest in Singapore?' Forest bathing is, simply, spending time in a forest or natural environment, and the slow, mindful immersion of all senses to connect with nature. 'You don't need a forest for forest bathing,' declared the 49-year-old Yap. 'You just need to be around greenery. You can even do this indoors with a plant around you.' Yap is a certified guide by the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy, a global organisation for forest therapy training. 'To me, the 'forest' in forest bathing loosely refers to nature. Forest bathing is about finding connection with nature,' she said. Originating in Japan during the early 1980s, the practice of forest bathing is rooted in ancient Shinto and Buddhist traditions, as well as modern scientific research. Studies have shown that it improves physical, mental and emotional health by reducing stress, lowering blood pressure and improving immune function. I had arrived 15 minutes late from a difficult school drop-off for my kids. And as I sat in a circle of strangers, my mind was still darting between my to-do lists. When we began in a yoga-like fashion, eyes closed, breathing deeply, I struggled to even keep my eyes shut. As Yap invited us to focus on each of our senses, my ears tuned in to the sporadic chirping of birds, my nose picked up the green scent of wet grass, my skin felt the soft drop of rain as it bounced off my skin. As my mind gradually stilled, Yap invited us to go on a solitary short walk through the glistening garden. It was a path I had treaded many times – for picnics, to cafes, to playdates for my kids – but never so purposelessly. I wandered amidst low hanging branches, bushes heavy with flowers and weeds growing rampant on the grass. By the time I returned, I wasn't half as frazzled as before. Finally, to end the hour-long session, Yap invited us to bring a gift back from nature. It was a treasure hunt for fallen flora and foliage. I returned with a fern-like leaf for my daughter's bedroom. That was it. My first forest bathing experience. No forest in sight. BECOMING A FOREST BATHING GUIDE 'My job as a forest bathing guide is to open the door to nature for you and plant a seed that will one day grow,' Yap said. This 'door' refers to a deeper connection with nature. 'Many go to the park with intention, and are often running or walking very fast,' she said. Because of that, they don't slow down and fully immerse in nature. Being a forest bathing guide is Yap's passion project; she earns her living as co-founder of Serious Media, a digital marketing agency with multinational clients. It is a fast-paced role, and by September 2021, three years after she co-founded the business, Yap was burnt out. 'I woke up and said, this is enough. I couldn't continue,' she recalled. That was still during the pandemic, so Yap took a 10-day break in Singapore and tried three new things: baking, knife painting and forest bathing. In fact, she arrived at the Healing Garden in the Singapore Botanic Gardens for her nature immersion with an upset stomach after lunch. 'It was raining and I was holding an umbrella. There were a lot of mosquitoes. I was bitten left, right, centre,' she laughed. But as she eased into the session, all her physical discomfort fell away. 'I'll never forget that feeling of the wind blowing on my skin. I felt so alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was surprised by how bright the colours were,' she recalled. When her guide invited her to 'befriend' a tree, it did not strike her as odd. She simply went up to a tree, touched it and leaned on it, and somehow, her stomach felt better, she said. 'After my session, I looked at the signage and realised this tree heals people with stomach issues when parts of it are consumed.' It was such a magical experience that six weeks later, Yap signed up for a forest-bathing guide course with the United States-based Association of Nature and Forest Therapy. 'It turned out to be a healing process for me,' she said. NATURE AS THERAPIST With the pandemic still raging, sessions were conducted over six months via Zoom with participants heading outdoors. It was during one of those sessions that Yap broke down in front of some 30 international course mates. Tasked to sit under a tree for self-reflection, Yap felt a connection to the tree and her thoughts began to wander to her beloved late grandmother, who died at the age of 78 due to respiratory problems. Yap was 40 then. On the day she died, she had just been discharged from hospital, but died unexpectedly as the ambulance pulled up to her HDB block. Yap, who had been following the ambulance in her uncle's car, did not even get to say goodbye. 'My grandmother raised me for the first seven years of my life and was like a mother to me. I felt like my world collapsed. Her death also led me to question what this life is for,' Yap told CNA Women. As these memories filled her mind, Yap started tearing, and soon, this became breathless sobs. 'It felt like a therapy session,' she said. Three years later, after pandemic restrictions on travel were lifted, Yap made a trip to Yakushima Island in Japan in October 2023 to complete her forest bathing course. As a final ritual, she wandered into an ancient forest and spent four hours on her own. 'I came out (of the forest) with a heart of gratitude, and as I was sharing my experience (with my course mates), I broke down and cried. Something was released in me,' she said. The experience changed the way Yap approaches life today. 'In Singapore today, everything is just fast, fast, fast. We think that it is the norm to go fast. It is not. We are not built to be like that. ''Fast' can mean efficiency and being ahead of the game, But it can also mean making hasty decisions. It can bring you stress,' Yap reflected. 'I used to be like that. I walked, talked, ate and did everything fast. I couldn't sit still. The biggest learning for me is to slow down,' she added. 'I now know how to take a pause and make mental space for myself. I will say, I'm not feeling okay today. 'Whenever I am faced with challenges or feel down, I spend time in nature. And even though I may not have solved the problem, I feel like the weight of the world has lifted off.' IMMERSING IN NATURE IN SINGAPORE Today, despite her busy full-time job, Yap makes time to lead others on this experience via her company A Good Rest. 'While forest bathing is still new in Singapore, I hope it will be like yoga one day, where almost everyone that you speak to would say, I have done it before or I'm actually doing it weekly,' she said. In addition, Yap also hopes to organise a weekly reading club in nature. View this post on Instagram A post shared by A Good Rest (@ 'I want to be an advocate for rest,' she said. 'Rest is important; you don't need to feel guilty about rest.' She hopes her children, aged 19 and 21, will benefit from this. 'They are born in an era where everything is fast, and everything they consume is digital. I don't think the word 'rest' is even in their headspace. I hope my children will learn what rest is,' she said. 'Rest does not only mean taking 10 days off for a holiday. In a world that is full of problems, noise and stress, sometimes all we need to do is take that one step out. 'Go to your park, or a quiet spot, sit under a tree and just be with yourself for a few minutes. That is the best way to enjoy nature,' she said.

Straits Times
14 hours ago
- Straits Times
How soya sauce could help treat cancer
Sign up now: Get ST's newsletters delivered to your inbox Kitkoji CEO Ken Koh (left) poses with Prof Jason Chan, the director of the Cancer Discovery Hub at the National Cancer Centre Singapore. SINGAPORE - The soya sauce in your food could one day play a part in cancer treatment, taking an unexpected path through skincare technology. The use of fungal metabolites – small molecules produced during metabolism – in the development of new cancer treatments is being studied as part of a collaboration between Kitkoji, a local company which produces fermented skincare, and the National Cancer Centre Singapore (NCCS). The two signed an agreement in May to expand their research, conducted through the Cancer Discovery Hub at NCCS. Kitkoji originated as a spin-off from Nanyang Sauce, a family-run soya sauce manufacturer. In 2022, studies on Nanyang Sauce's traditional fermented soya sauce revealed its anti-oxidant and anti-ageing properties, according to Mr Ken Koh, who is the owner of Nanyang Sauce and Kitkoji's chief executive officer. This is due to the presence of a type of mould known as koji, he told The Straits Times. Scientifically known as Aspergillus oryzae, koji plays a key role in the fermentation of soya beans for making soya sauce as well as in the making of alcoholic beverages such as sake. Top stories Swipe. Select. Stay informed. Singapore Asean needs 'bolder reforms' to attract investments in more fragmented global economy: PM Wong Singapore CPF members can make housing, retirement and health insurance plans with new digital platform Singapore CPF's central philosophy of self-reliance remains as pertinent as ever: SM Lee Singapore Credit reports among personal data of 190,000 breached, put for sale on Dark Web; IT vendor fined Asia Dalai Lama hopes to live beyond 130 years, much longer than predicted Singapore Tan Cheng Bock, Hazel Poa step down from PSP leadership; party launches 'renewal plan' Sport Liverpool will move on after Jota's tragic death, but he will never be forgotten Singapore Rock climbing fan suddenly could not jump, get up from squats The decision was made to develop a skincare range under the brand name Kitkoji, which combines the word koji with Kit, his daughter's name. Then in 2023, another breakthrough emerged when a customer from Australia reached out to say that using Kitkoji's products had made his skin cancer, or melanoma, spots disappear. Mr Koh was taken aback by the discovery which prompted him to approach NCCS to get all Kitkoji products tested. Though findings have not yet been published, laboratory tests showed promising results in the treatment of 25 cancers – including breast, lung, skin and gastrointestinal cancers – using a proprietary extract found in Kitkoji's products such as serums and masks. The tests had shown the effectiveness of the extract, known as Extract K, in killing cancer cells for certain blood cancers and solid tumours, as well as its efficacy in treating xenograft models – where human cancer cells are transplanted into animals to study drug responses, among other things. Tests had also helped identify potential active compounds responsible for anti-cancer effects. The research collaboration agreement with NCCS aims to validate these findings, and discover what makes Kitkoji products effective against cancer cells, said Mr Koh. Kitkoji said its research collaboration with NCCS will focus on exploring the cancer mycobiome to identify novel bioactive compounds – molecules which can promote good health – to develop innovative cancer treatments utilising fungal metabolites. The cancer mycobiome refers to the fungal community in and around a tumour, which plays a role in the development and progression of cancer. As part of their expanded partnership, Kitkoji and NCCS aim to identify lead compounds, or chemical compounds which could treat disease, within the extract. The year-long collaboration will include assessment of the dosage required in treating various cancers, among other tests. These are aimed at establishing proof of concept, and potentially setting the stage for eventual clinical trials. Assistant Professor Jason Chan, director of the Cancer Discovery Hub, said he hoped the partnership with Kitkoji would bring innovative new therapies to cancer patients. 'This extended collaboration reflects our shared vision to translate scientific discovery into tangible clinical outcomes,' he added. Other studies have also pointed to the potential uses of fungi in treating cancer. In November 2024, research by scientists from the University of Nottingham, published in the scientific journal FEBS Letters, found that cordycepin – a chemical produced by a parasitic fungus that infects caterpillars – can slow down the growth of cancer cells.


CNA
2 days ago
- CNA
'Nowhere else to go': Inside the welfare homes where women seek shelter, find hope
When Ms Sarah (not her real name) first arrived at a welfare home in Buangkok, she was 35 years old and had been admitted to the Institute for Mental Health (IMH) 48 times since her 20s. Struggling to manage her health, and with her sister lacking the means to care for her, Ms Sarah ended up sleeping rough, such as outdoors, where safety and hygiene were a constant worry. 'I was scared (I would get) molested, scared (I would get) raped,' she recalled. 'It was difficult to manage my personal hygiene. That time, in my desperate moment, I would bathe at a coffee shop, shoplift from a pharmacy – but that's not me.' Her first days in the welfare home, despite its promise of shelter and medical help, were marked by sadness and isolation. 'When I was admitted, at that moment, I felt like nobody (would) take care of me,' said Ms Sarah, in a choked voice. Now 42, Ms Sarah has lived in Thuja Home at Pelangi Village, an all-female welfare home run by social service agency 4S, for about seven years. There are 11 welfare homes across Singapore, managed by social service agencies under the supervision of the Ministry of Social and Family Development (MSF), and admission is subject to a 'social investigation' by MSF under the Destitute Persons Act. Thuja Home at Pelangi Village is the only women-only welfare home in Singapore, currently housing around 190 residents. Women are also the minority in mixed homes. At MWS Christalite Methodist Home, for instance, only about 15 per cent of residents are women. At Bukit Batok Home for the Aged, around 33 per cent – or 38 out of 115 residents – are female. Though small in number, women in these settings often face complex challenges, with many having endured years of neglect, trauma or illness. Seven women staying in welfare homes told CNA TODAY of how adjustment to a round-the-clock residential environment, living apart from their former communities, can be jarring. Residents at these homes cannot be named due to the sensitive circumstances of their admission and stay. Single mother Karen (not her real name), 60, never imagined that she would live in a welfare home after growing up in a 'very comfortable home'. 'When I entered here, I had no idea what a destitute home was,' said Ms Karen, who has lived in the MWS Christalite Methodist Home for around a year and remains in limited contact with her adult son. Yet, despite initial struggles, many of the women in welfare homes told CNA TODAY of the improvements in their health, the friendships they had built, and a sense of stability they had not known in years. Contrary to the common perception that residents have been abandoned in a place of last resort, Ms Sarah said: 'If I didn't stay here the last seven years, I would be a lot worse than I am now. 'People have that stigma that a welfare home is a very nasty place, or that you are alone. It's actually a very nice, cosy place for us to think better. Here, there's a lot of people who care for us.' WHY THEY GO IN A Methodist Welfare Services (MWS) spokesperson said that admission into welfare homes, for both men and women, is often driven by difficult circumstances 'beyond an individual's control'. Neglect and cruelty are common experiences among the elderly women they see, and many residents have been abandoned by family members due to age, disability and illness. More male residents tend to have estranged family relationships, arising from factors such as absentee parenting, repeated incarcerations, substance abuse, domestic violence or extramarital affairs. Female residents, on the other hand, need full-time residential care because of 'poorer support systems', said the spokesperson. 'In some cases, individuals have fallen into debt or been financially exploited by relatives or partners. Others are survivors of domestic violence or abuse – both physical and emotional – or have gone through divorce or separation without financial support.' Ms Kelly (not her real name), 61, has resided in Thuja Home at Pelangi Village for over two years, after a long period of housing instability, including rough sleeping in a staircase in Bedok and a stay in IMH. Twice divorced and estranged from her children and family, she has made peace with her solitude. 'I try not to think that (my family) will come to see me. I just have this dream that they are healthy, and that they are living in a good way,' she said. While she kept to herself in her first year at the home, she has since made a good friend who taught her how to appreciate new hobbies. 'I was so happy to have a place where I would have a cupboard and small table. I never thought there would be room for people like us, I thought everyone had a family only,' said Ms Kelly. For Madam Mary (not her real name), a single woman in her mid-70s, the path to staying in MWS Christalite Methodist Home followed years of collecting and selling cardboard from coffee shops and stores. Her only sibling living in Singapore, a younger brother, now resides in another welfare home. 'Sleeping outside is very dangerous, some people sleep outside and get cheated and end up pregnant. But living here is very good. Here, there's food, there's a place to stay,' she said in Mandarin. Ms Michelle Koh, assistant superintendent of Bukit Batok Home for the Aged, said female residents are typically admitted due to psychiatric conditions coupled with a lack of family support, or situations where family members are unable to cope with caregiving responsibilities. She noted that another key factor determining the admission of both male and female residents to the welfare home is their age profile, combined with the lack of alternative accommodation and the absence of family support. At Thuja Home at Pelangi Village, however, superintendent Melissa Maniam is seeing an uptick in younger women, in their 30s and 40s, entering the welfare home. 'This means that they are often more lucid, they know of their rights and freedoms. So they are unable to really understand why they are placed in a home,' said Ms Maniam. Dr Kelvin Tan Cheng Kian from the Singapore University of Social Sciences (SUSS) said this trend may continue as more Singaporeans remain single. Without alternative housing options, institutional care could become the fallback for those with no safety net. Despite the uptick, the female population in welfare homes remains significantly smaller than that of men, a trend that experts say reflects broader gender norms. Dr Tan, head of SUSS' Minor in Applied Ageing Studies, explained that women bearing the brunt of domestic responsibilities often foster closer family ties. 'Due to this disparity of family roles during their active lives, men are more distant from their children in the post-retirement or latter years, resulting in them ending up in institutional care,' said Dr Tan. Dr Tan Ern Ser, an adjunct principal research fellow and academic adviser at the social lab at the Institute of Policy Studies, also suggested that some women who may have 'good reasons' to leave for welfare homes resist doing so, as their identity and sense of security and dependency is centred on being part of a family unit, even a dysfunctional one. LIFE IN A WELFARE HOME Beyond essential services like meals and medical care, many welfare homes aim to provide meaningful engagement, from creative activities like karaoke to work schemes and outings. Contrary to some residents' fears that living in a welfare home might be like a 'jail', Mr Adrian Ng, a social worker at Bukit Batok Home for the Aged, said the welfare home makes an effort to ensure residents exercise independence. For example, residents can take part in a home earning scheme – light duties within the home that come with a small allowance. Some residents are also nominated for community outings under a buddy system, providing some freedom to travel and purchase things with the allowance they have earned. 'It gives residents a sense of purpose, and they get to contribute to the home. They gain some allowance and benefits like outings, so it keeps them going,' said Mr Ng. One such resident is Madam Liza (not her real name), 69, who has lived in Bukit Batok Home for the Aged for a decade. 'The first time I came here, I felt sad, because I didn't know the place, and my family also didn't know I stayed here. But now it's different.' Mdm Liza finds joy in her role as a receptionist at the front counter for four hours every day – a job that reminds her of her former occupation as a security officer. 'I stay here, I feel happy, because a lot of people can take care of me. I have a lot of friends, I can join the activities,' she said. Mr Alvin Chua, lecturer in the department of social work at National University of Singapore, said that the key challenge in institutional care is the loss of autonomy and the need to comply with rules. The nature of institutional care operations and the responsibility of the management to ensure safety among residents often leaves little to no room for individualisation, he said. Over at MWS Christalite Methodist Home, the welfare home has observed that many of its female residents grapple with loneliness, depression and a sense of hopelessness in coping with the past trauma, mental health conditions or familial estrangement that led to their admission. 'Structured routines and restricted movement outside the facility, though necessary for ensuring safety and optimising care plans, can further impact their mental well-being by limiting autonomy,' said the MWS spokesperson. To address this, the welfare home has designed programmes such as Colour Me Beautiful, which aims to increase female residents' social engagement and provide a safe space for them to reflect on their personal identity. In the six-week pilot programme, female residents participated in 'self-expression activities' like fashion styling, floral arrangement and skincare application paired with group discussions. 'Post-programme surveys reported improved mood, energy, and self-esteem among the participants,' said the spokesperson. One initially introverted resident, Madam Lucy (not her real name), frequently told staff she felt lonely after being admitted in late 2024. In one Colour Me Beautiful session about fashion styling, Mdm Lucy selected a green scarf and paired it with a pink necklace, then modelled her selections for the group. 'It's very enlightening, I like almost everything about the course. It makes me feel more normal,' she said. In CNA TODAY's conversations with women in welfare homes, many also spoke about friendships and fallouts – a reflection, social workers say, of how female residents often place great weight on emotional connection in the welfare home environment. Ms Maniam, the superintendent from all-female welfare home Thuja Home at Pelangi Village, said its residents value interpersonal relationships strongly. 'There'll be a constant theme between a few residents, where one will say, 'They don't like me', and because of that, she can't function and cannot even work,' said Ms Maniam. Agreeing, Mr Ng said: 'Female residents tend to want to get along well with their counterparts. They may have verbal quarrels, complaining, 'Oh this person says this', but they will try and get along.'. Many residents often require ongoing emotional support, particularly in managing interpersonal relationships – be it from their past or with peers in the home. 'Sometimes when we come to the office, (residents) are crying, sitting outside of the office and saying, 'Nobody wants me anymore'. My colleagues and I spend a lot of time talking to them, trying to calm them down. 'It's something we cannot brush away, because all these emotional (moments) are leading to a bigger picture, like their relationship with other people, social communication, behaviour and intervention plan,' said Ms Maniam. Ms Sherry Soon, executive director of Be Kind SG, a social service agency that aims to foster an inclusive society for persons with disabilities, including those with intellectual disabilities and autism spectrum disorder, has observed female residents exhibiting a 'greater need for an affectionate type of relationship' with volunteers. The charity conducts monthly visits to a welfare home, during which it engages residents with a programme that includes dance exercises, guest segments, colouring, singing and music. While she has witnessed friendships bloom in the welfare home environment, she has also seen interpersonal conflict between residents. However, she said that is to be expected, since life in a residential home is a 'microcosm of society'. 'There's a misconception that welfare homes are sad and depressing. Not to say there aren't challenges, but it is like a community, a place where people can find friendship,' said Ms Soon. HIDDEN, NOT HELPLESS While life inside a home may be full of activity, the women who stay in such environments – and welfare homes themselves – often remain outside of the public eye. Ms Soon from Be Kind SG said some volunteers were initially unaware such homes even existed. 'They are really a hidden community. We have had volunteers that live near the welfare home, who didn't know what the home was about,' said Ms Soon. While donations are important, Ms Soon said what makes a difference is companionship, for example through volunteering for events, to create 'beautiful memories' for individuals in welfare homes. Ms Koh from the Bukit Batok Home for the Aged said the public may not fully understand the complex circumstances that lead women to reside in welfare homes, and their enduring desire for dignity and connection. 'They are not simply recipients of care – they are individuals with histories, preferences, and the capacity to heal and grow when given the right support.' Similarly, the MWS spokesperson said the 'immense strength' of the residents in surviving abandonment, abuse, poverty or social stigma is often overlooked. 'These women are not helpless – they are often resourceful but worn down by systemic barriers and a lack of support. With trust, dignity, and opportunity, many can rebuild their lives,' said the MWS spokesperson. For some women in welfare homes, what rebuilding looks like is clear: to return to the community and regain independence. Ms Sarah, the resident of Thuja Home at Pelangi Village, is working towards living in a rental flat under the Joint Singles Scheme. 'I feel thankful, staying here, because I can learn how to be independent. A few years back, I didn't know anything about self-regulation. But I went to a course, and one of the officers taught me to (manage my emotions), how to float, not drown,' said Ms Sarah. Under a scheme at the home, she has found part-time employment as a cafe retail assistant, which suits her schedule of frequent medical appointments. 'I left (secondary school) because of medical reasons. I still wanted to study. But then, I had no choice. Now, staying here, I work hard and get some savings, and can continue from then,' said Ms Sarah. Though giving residents employment skills is important in helping residents execute plans for a new life, Mr Chua from NUS cautioned that many residents carry emotional burdens that are not easily resolved. 'They may seem better and be ready for discharge after the interventions. Yet, it is not uncommon to have these residents coming back into the system shortly after,' Mr Chua said. He pointed to the need for therapeutic support – such as counselling, art or play therapy – and structured aftercare to support a smooth transition. Ms Maniam from Thuja Home at Pelangi Village acknowledged that reintegration with one's family is 'very rare'. She has encountered only one or two successful such cases over the years. Reintegration can be 'especially complex' for female residents, said the MWS spokesperson, given the social, economic and cultural disadvantages and limited family support many residents have. Each year, the home has reintegrated around 5 per cent of residents into the community – only one-fifth of whom are female. 'Our aim is to improve their overall quality of life throughout their stay. However, for many residents, reintegration into the community is not a likely outcome – not due to a lack of will, but because of complex life circumstances and practical constraints,' said the spokesperson. Still, for some other female residents, fulfilment is not found in leaving, but in enjoying life within the four walls of the welfare home, where they have forged healthy routines, friendships, and a sense of security that may have eluded them elsewhere. One of them is Ms Sandy (not her real name), 57, who has stayed at Thuja Home at Pelangi Village for over nine years. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder, she said that staying at the welfare home has helped her feel 'very stable'. Adjusting to living with strangers was initially a struggle, she admitted, and even now and then there are quarrels in her dormitory, which sleeps eight residents. 'Sometimes we quarrel then patch back. We automatically patch back,' said Ms Sandy. But she is buoyed also by her friendships, including with Ms Kelly, whom she introduced to her favourite hobby, colouring.