Story contributed by Hani, Community Worker
Earlier this month, I was going door to door to invite youths to join a new sports programme. I stopped by a flat where two of the boys on my list lived. Their father, Jamal*, greeted me at the door and invited me to wait while one of his sons made his way back from school.
We started with small talk. He asked about the programme; I asked about his day. The conversation flowed easily. He shared that his family had returned to Singapore about seven or eight years ago after living in Indonesia for much of their lives. All three of his children are Singaporean, and like many parents I’ve met, Jamal has been focused on building a stable life for them here.
Jamal now works as a cleaner in one of Singapore’s research and development hubs. The timing and location suit him well as he’s able to be home in time for dinner, spend time with his kids, and get the rest he needs. “That is important to me,” he said.
As we chatted, he shared more about his life before the pandemic. For years, Jamal worked as an art installer, helping set up exhibitions across the region – some of which featured major Southeast Asian artists. He described the precision the job required, the teamwork it involved, and the satisfaction of watching a space come together. “Sometimes I’d bring my son to help,” he said with a smile. “He earned a bit of allowance, but more than that, I wanted him to learn what it means to do a job properly.”
As he spoke, something clicked. The way he described his work with such care and intention, felt deeply familiar. I’d once worked briefly at an art gallery more than a decade ago and remembered someone who spoke about his craft in just that way. We both paused, then laughed at the realisation. We had crossed paths all those years ago, now reunited in the most unexpected way. “Wah, small world!” he said, grinning.
Before I left, I asked if he might be open to lending his expertise for future community events which involved pop-ups, exhibitions, or anything that could use his vast knowledge and experience. He didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he said. “If it helps the community, I’m happy to share what I know.”
My conversation with Jamal reminded me that the work someone does now doesn’t tell the whole story of who they are, what they’ve done, or what they can do. Sometimes, it’s only through conversation that strengths surface. Jamal reminded me that work isn’t just about roles and routines. It’s about presence, effort, and the pride in showing up, whatever the task.
In a society that often assigns value based on titles or pay, people like Jamal remind us that all work holds dignity – and that every conversation is a chance to see someone more fully.
This Labour Day, let’s celebrate not just the jobs people do, but the people who do them with skill, pride, and heart.Let’s all take a moment to honour the workers in our lives. A word of thanks, a conversation, or simply noticing.
It all counts.
*Not his real name