OCT 31 1999

Let the 'Forgotten Class' bring in their foreign brides

MY VIEW
By SUSAN LONG

HE WAS a bankrupt. She was a Batam bride. He left school at 13, used to be a gangster and was mired in bad debts. Mr Richard Teo, then 38, was in no mood for romance.

But the 23-year-old seamstress-turned-Batam boutique owner looked beyond all that.

Madam Tan Puan Kim did not grill him over his finances, begrudge their age difference or mind his gruff manner.

They courted briefly over karaoke, found they could belt out love ballads in sync and registered their marriage in 1994.

She gave him four children, a three-year-old daughter and triplets aged two. Mr Teo, now 43, has since given up drinking to help with bottle feeds and diaper changes.

Together, they have built up THIS Fashion clothing empire which rang in a $35 million turnover last year.

They seem a happier fit than many couples here. Yet, in 1993, Mr Teo seemed destined to be the one in five men who would never say "I do" in his lifetime -- until he looked beyond Singapore's shores. ENOUGH said about the one in four women graduates who will never marry.

As fertility trends droop further, happy family advertisements and tax incentives to get them hitched -- as well as their excuses -- are getting shopworn.

It is time instead to explore fresh avenues to arrest the fertility rate, which is likely to fall below 1.5 this year.

Sixteen years since then-Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew stirred up the Great Marriage Debate, romancing graduate women has proven to be a lost cause.

Sure, the Social Development Unit formed in 1984 walks some 10 couples down the aisle each week.

But that barely makes a dent in the surging single numbers. At last count in 1998, there were 77,800 unmarried men and 74,700 single women aged 35 and over.

Even if Singapore succeeds in marrying off its graduate women, many are likely to pocket the Housing Board subsidy, adopt the popularised DINK (Double Income, No Kids) family model -- and practise choice childlessness.

Also, as educated singles tie the knot later in life (brides at 26.8 and grooms at 29.8), fertility will still decline, given reduced chances of child-bearing in older women.

Crudely put, married graduate women contribute naught to the fertility rate if they do not exercise their wombs.

Even if the Government tugs at a few maternal heartstrings successfully, statistics show that graduate mothers produce one, at most two, babies. Even if one gets lucky, they barely replace themselves. NOW, at the other end of the untapped spectrum are the single men.

Statistics reveal that the bulk (37.3 per cent) have secondary and below education. Let's call them The Forgotten Class.

For them, the call to marry and procreate is a case of preaching to the converted.

Their problem is few Singaporean women would have them so they have to look elsewhere for mates.

As Mr Teo says: "Foreign girls don't calculate so much. Can look after them, can already."

Already, a record high of almost 30 per cent of marriages registered here in 1996 were cross-national -- involving a foreign bride or groom, though not necessarily of a different race. The figure was double that of 1986.

Men led the trend with preferred brides being Malaysians (48.5 per cent), China (18.9 per cent) and Indonesia (14.8 per cent).

However, crossing borders to walk down the primrose path is not a happily-ever-after deal for many Singapore men.

The biggest heartache is that many of their foreign brides-to-be do not qualify for Permanent Resident status here.

Chances are: the women held the wrong type of work pass here, their Singaporean husband-to-be's income falls short of the prescribed mark, or they fail other conditions in academic qualifications or salary.

Some families, as a result, get parted at the Causeway and lobbying for spousal PR status continues to be a common feature at Meet-the-people sessions.

Surely, the rules can be relaxed to allow Singapore men able to prove they can hold home and hearth together to live here with their foreign brides, thus increasing the incidence of babies.

The clinically dispassionate would argue that this is after all akin to importing foreign talent (wombs in this case) to produce naturalised Singapore babies.

Sure, eugenicists championing the theory that bright begets bright will assert that The Forgotten Class should refrain from procreation and diluting Singapore's elite society.

But most sociologists say that the high rate of cross-marrying, which is reminiscent of pre-independent Singapore in the 50s, brings glad tidings for Singapore's stock.

Social Darwinians would say it adds depth and diversity to the nation's small pond and widens its genetic pool. THE question is: is no babies a worse consequence than arguably genetically less-endowed babies?

Most will agree that encouraging single men to mate -- with foreigners if need be -- will go a long way towards meeting the 50,000 yearly baby quota necessary to sustain Singapore's economy, defence and manpower needs.

The success of Singapore, an immigrant society spawned largely from China's impoverished peasant stock, rather than its imperial scholar class, is eloquent testimony.

In Singapore's Cabinet, for example, the incidence of ministers who hark from blue-collar backgrounds is higher than those in-bred in the moneyed class.

Mr Wong Kan Seng's parents were noodle street hawkers. Mr Abdullah Tarmugi's father once hawked gado gado. Mr Mah Bow Tan's father died when he was three and his mother worked as a domestic maid.

However, one possible downside is that Singapore men will be viewed increasingly as walking Green Cards and broken cross-national marriages could tax the social system here.

But why not put our widely lauded Asian value system to the test?

Have faith in Singapore men -- that their judgment of what constitutes a good wife and mother will also pass muster as a good-enough citizen.

Let them play gatekeeper and vet their own brides, rather than have some bureaucrat attempt to shield them from domestic discord.

After all, who will be teaching them local languages and customs, inducting them into Singapore society and abiding by them -- for better or for worse?


Article obtained from Straits Times Interactive
Copyright © 1999 Singapore Press Holdings Ltd. All rights reserved.

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