Written by Amelia, member of the community
Growing up, I was always aware that I was the “costly child.” My school fees and medical expenses were a constant concern for my parents. My younger brothers were born in Singapore, so they had access to fully subsidised education. My schooling, however, came at a price – one that my family struggled to afford.
In Malaysia, school-related costs were manageable. If I recall correctly, my school fees amounted to only about $100 a year. But in Singapore, the difference is stark. I saw it firsthand when my brothers started primary school. Their school fees were fully covered – textbooks and uniforms were provided for free – and they even received subsidies for meals and public transport. Being from a lower-income family, we could apply for bursaries under their names, but my education remained a financial strain on my parents.
My school fees ranged between $600 to $800 – a strain on our family’s finances even with Dad’s income as a private hire driver. He appealed for a subsidy, and after some time, we received approval to pay the Permanent Resident rate – about $300 less. While this made a big difference, we still had to be mindful. We learned, as a family, to manage our finances. Eating out was rare; budgeting became second nature. We reminded ourselves that with careful planning, we could make do with what we had.
As I was the one handling administrative matters at home – filling out forms and managing documents – I became acutely aware of what we had and what we lacked. And yet, my parents never made me feel like a burden. Still, I knew that every dollar spent on my education was a sacrifice.
That awareness shaped the way I approached my education. I felt pressure to excel, to make every cent spent on me worthwhile But the truth was, I struggled. I felt I lacked the academic foundation expected in Singapore, and no matter how much I tried, I fell behind. The guilt of not performing well still lingers, especially when I think about how hard my parents worked to ensure I could continue my studies.
Even after I completed secondary school, we were left with unpaid outstanding fees. To ease the financial burden, I made small sacrifices wherever I could. I often skipped recess, saving my pocket money so it could go toward groceries instead. I tried not to fall sick, remembering the one time I had to visit the hospital resulted in a whopping $70 bill – that was a lot of money for us. Outings with friends or spending on personal wants were never a priority; deprivations made not out of obligation, but necessity.
When we received financial assistance from Beyond in the form of food supplies, free personal tutoring and subsidised medical fees, we prioritised rent, utilities, and essentials – in that order. Every dollar was earmarked for a purpose.
Right through challenging times, my parents’ support never wavered, and I have carried that with me. Looking back, I realise that those years weren’t just about struggling through financial hardship; they were about learning resilience, about making do with what we had, and about moving forward despite the weight both my family and I carried.
No child should feel like a burden for wanting to learn.
This Good Friday, as we pause to reflect on compassion and sacrifice borne of love, Amelia’s story reminds us of the strength and care that can carry families through difficult times. Stand with us in building a more inclusive Singapore – where every child has the chance to thrive.