Written by Jie Min, Community Worker
Nenek* is a familiar and beloved presence at our office whenever The Community Theatre holds its weekly rehearsals. She’s there not for the theatre, but for her granddaughter, Sam** – one of the main actors in this year’s production. While the other youth bustle about in preparation, Nenek waits quietly in her chair, eyes on her phone, taking a brief moment to rest before the journey home. She never watches the rehearsals. Never intrudes. But her presence anchors the space. And over time, she’s become Nenek to everyone.
A few hours before the big show, I got a message from Sam:
“Can u convince my Nenek to come? ?”
I smiled when I read it. I could tell this performance meant a lot. But having Nenek in the audience meant even more. After Sam faced difficult circumstances at home, it was Nenek who stepped in to care for her. Her presence would mean the world.
I found Nenek back at the office, in her usual chair. “I am so tired,” she sighed. She works on her feet all day at a fast food outlet, sometimes juggling two locations when they’re short-staffed. Her knees hurt, and she didn’t think she could manage two hours on floor mats. “I see Sam being ‘drama’ at home already!” she laughed.
I told her there would be chairs. That Sam really wanted her there. And after a little more rest and some gentle cajoling, she agreed. We walked slowly to the venue.
It was the evening of 21 June. Over 100 people gathered at a multi-purpose hall in Beo Crescent for The Community Theatre – a participatory platform where youths from lower-income communities share their stories and invite conversations on social issues. Among the audience were community members, volunteers, donors, and supporters.
Nenek took a seat in the front row.
The performance, “Module 101: Grow Up!”, followed the lives of young people navigating school, home, and the weight of adult responsibilities. It touched on caregiving, financial stress, and the quiet pressure to grow up before they’re ready – familiar terrain for many in the audience.
I wondered what Nenek was thinking. She’s seen Sam live through this. She’s lived it herself, stepping in to care for her grandchildren when things at home became too hard. For all her jokes about Sam’s “drama,” there she was watching, listening, and being fully present.
The show ended with a workshop. The audience was invited to write letters to the characters. A way to respond, reflect, or say the things we often keep inside.
I glanced over and saw Nenek writing.
To one child, she wrote:
“You are a good sister, responsible, helping your mother with the house chores.”
To another:
“You blame others… you need to change.”
To the parent:
“You are selfish. You said you were doing it for your family, but you are not.”
Her words were raw, honest, and deeply personal. In that moment, Nenek wasn’t just watching a show, she was in it. Responding to it. Participating in the conversation it was meant to spark.
That’s what makes community theatre powerful. It brings people together across generations and backgrounds to sit with stories that don’t have easy answers. It doesn’t try to solve, but instead opens a space where someone like Nenek, who never once watched a rehearsal, suddenly finds herself writing to characters she’s just met… and meaning every word.
Later, while Sam packed up backstage, Nenek waited, as she always does. But something had shifted. Her posture, her expression. She looked proud.
As they left together that night, I wondered what different, and deeper conversations they would now have on the way home.
Stories like Sam’s, and presences like Nenek’s, remind us that simply being present and being part of conversations for change can mean more than we realise. If you’ve been meaning to thank someone who’s been there for you, or sit beside someone going through a hard time, maybe today’s a good day.
And if you believe in the power of youth and community, we invite you to support our youth development programmes – as a friend, a donor, or someone who shows up.
*Malay for grandmother
**Not her real name