I Grew Up in a Hawker Stall — and It Breaks My Heart How Things Have Changed

When I was little, my parents ran a small hawker stall. During school holidays , before the sun even rose, I’d be there helping them  wiping tables, washing bowls, passing them ingredients while the wok hissed and smoked. The air was always filled with the smell of garlic, soy sauce, and sweat.

Back then, customers would walk up, order their food, and then go find a seat. We’d cook and bring the food to their table with a smile. If they asked for more chilli or extra utensils, I’d run to grab it  no complaints. When they were done, they’d wave at us, and my parents would go over to collect payment, return the change, and even clear the dishes.

People were kinder then. They’d smile, say thank you, and tell me I was a “good girl.” Some would slip a one-dollar coin into my palm and pat my head before leaving. Those small moments meant everything  the work was hard, but it felt full of heart. 

Now… things are different. Customers queue for their food, pay before eating, and carry everything themselves. When they finish, they return their trays  or at least they’re expected to. Tray return stations are full of leftovers and birds picking at scraps. Everything feels a little colder, a little more transactional.

And yet, food prices have gone up so much not because hawkers are getting richer, but because everything else has gotten harder. Gas, rent, ingredients, cleaning services, even plastic spoons, all cost more now. My parents used to joke that hawkers work 15 hours a day just to earn what office people make sitting under aircon.

So when I hear people complain, “Last time hawkers used to bring food to tables, give free chillies, even clear our dishes,” I just keep quiet. Because that “last time” was me  running around in slippers, hands full of bowls, trying not to spill soup.

I understand both sides. Customers today also have their struggles, things are expensive for everyone. Families with young kids need extra bowls, spoons, a bit of help. They’re not being demanding; they just need some kindness.

Maybe that’s what’s missing, kindness. On both sides. Hawkers are tired. Customers are tired. Everyone’s trying to survive. But I still believe hawker centres can be more than just places to eat. They used to be about warmth, laughter, and shared humanity.

I hope we can bring a bit of that feeling back.