6. My Sons and Hardship as a Single Mother

MingCherng Chiang
Aug 6, 2024
8 min read

Jesu and I were married in 1986, nearly three years after the divorce with my ex-husband was made absolute. Jesu treated my three children as his own, but he loved my youngest son the most.

I did not want to give western names to my children because I felt that we should be proud of our Chinese heritage. Because the life expectancy rate was low, many people who were superstitious gave their children names of animals, such as Ah Kow (dog), Ah Ngau (cow) and Ah Ju (pig) to prevent the evil spirits from thinking they were human and taking their lives in their childhood. Not wanting to give my children western names nor names of animals, I did some research on Chinese history. I acquired books on Chinese history, customs and cultures, which I kept in the library in my first matrimonial home, a three-room apartment at Blk 112, Lorong 1 Toa Payoh. I named my firstborn Shun, after the second legendary king of China. Yao was the first legendary king, but I felt that the name sounded harsh. Some people told me that I should not give my children names of great people, lest they might not be able to carry the weight of the names. I wanted my children to be great and so, I ignored their advice.

Shun son was born on 3 June 1968. I had a difficult pregnancy for Shun. Every day, I had morning sickness that would last until the night. They gave me Thalidomide to stop the vomiting, but I had seen pictures of the effects of Thalidomide on newborn babies, and I stopped taking the pills immediately. So, I continued to throw up every day. I would rather throw up than to have my child be deformed. There were early signs of a possible miscarriage, and I dared not move much for fear of having one. Despite my difficult pregnancy, Shun’s birth was very smooth. He was 4 lbs when he was born, when the average weight of babies at that time was 5 lbs. My mother in-law was upset by this and scolded me for not taking enough food.

I loved Shun so much that I wanted another baby immediately.

My second-born came 11 months after and was born on 9 May 1969. I named him Yü, after the third legendary king and the founder of Xia, the first dynasty of China. I was so happy with the two of them. Everywhere I went, I would carry both of them in my two arms and they would be happily communicating with each other in their own way. They did not start talking until they were over 2 years old. Also, although Shun was older, he was underweight and the two of them grew up looking alike. They were so close to each other; they were like identical twins.

My husband bought a house at Faber Crescent and we moved to the new house on 1 April 1970. We had agreed that I would pay all the household expenses and he would only pay the housing loan instalments because he had a higher salary and would be able to pay off the loan within 10 years. When the title deeds came back, I asked why my name was not included. He replied that since I was his wife, it was not necessary to include my name as he would give everything to me.

Our maid came with us from our Toa Payoh home. She refused to use the first-floor maid’s room and wanted to move into a room on the second floor, nearer to our room. I refused to allow her to have her room upstairs and insisted that she used the maid’s room. It was then that she revealed she was having a close relationship with my husband since the day I went to hospital to give birth to my first-born. She admitted this in front of my husband, who did not deny it. He told her that if she wanted to leave, she should do so and not to cause further trouble. I told her to leave immediately. From then, my marital relationship tumbled.

After the maid left, my husband’s behaviour towards me changed. He would invariably pick a fight with me after dinner and would storm out of the house in a rage. Some neighbours told me that they noticed he would drive to the nearby park after storming out of the house, and pick up a young lady before driving off.

My third son was born on 26 December 1974. I named him Cherng, after Emperor Qin Shi Huang Di, whose personal name was Cherng. I had my third son in an effort to mend the relationship. However, it didn’t work. My husband was not interested in any of his children. He was seldom at home, and I was left to look after them single-handedly. I love my children very much and didn’t want them to have the same childhood I had.

My husband moved out to live on his own in 1981. He said he was going to sell the house to buy a HDB flat. Because my name was not in the title deeds, I had to buy the house from him. It was hard for me because we had not divorced yet and he was not giving the family any financial support.

As a little pre-school child, I remember my mom taking me on bus rides to different places. She would bring me to a bus stop and sometimes we would sit there waiting for the bus, sometimes we would be chasing after the bus. This was the time before OMO (one-man operated) buses, when buses had a driver and a bus conductor. The bus conductor would wait for you to be seated, then ask you where you were going, retrieve from his stash the relevant coloured ticket that indicated the fare, and punch the relevant hole in the ticket indicating the boarding stop.

As I travelled with my mom by bus in those few years before she had a car, I realized that invariably, my mom would board the wrong bus. After finding a seat, we would be approached by the bus conductor and my mom would smile sweetly at him and tell him where we wanted to go. And the bus conductor would give this look of helplessness and surrender. He would look around like trying to find a way to get off the bus himself.

It seems my mom would board any bus she saw, regardless of the bus number and the direction it was headed. Then she would rely on the bus conductor to give her instructions on the correct bus to take. Her smile and having me in tow was a big factor in encouraging the bus conductor’s cooperation.

After the first few times, I found it quite exciting knowing that we would be boarding the wrong bus and be taken for a ride… or was it the bus conductor that was being taken for a ride… or both?

That adventure didn’t last long because my mom finally got a car. There weren’t many cars in Singapore yet and some roads weren’t well lit or well-travelled. My mom would explore the different roads and would ask me if I would like to go down “dark, dark roads.” I would be so excited. We would travel around the island exploring different roads, looking at houses. One evening, on a “dark and stormy night,” we were enjoying ourselves travelling down a “dark, dark road.” The rain was beating down hard on the windscreen and visibility was very poor. Suddenly, we saw a dark figure dash across the street in front of us. Because of the rain and the darkness of the night, we didn’t see the figure until it was in front of us. The figure was wearing all black and had long black hair flying madly in the wind. My mom gasped in shock at the sudden sight. We weren’t going fast and by the time we got back our wits, the figure had already reached the road divider and was waiting for the traffic on the other side to clear. As we approached the figure, my mom quickly wound down her window (which was tedious because she had to drive and crank the window at the same time while the rain started coming into the car) and shouted into the rain, “Eh, Pontianak!” (Pontianak refers to a female vampire or ghost)…

…and happily drove off having identified the creature. Somewhere within us should have felt sympathy for the person all drenched in the rain, but instead, on that stormy night, our wild imaginations and sense of adventure were set ablaze seeing a dark figure fly across the road in front of us on a dark road.

I still find excitement going down dark roads and exploring places, and look forward to doing it with Pauline. Occasionally, we would drive down a wrong road and have to go round and round trying to get back to the right one, but that is all about the adventure.

Mdm Lau Kan How is more than a stepmother to us—she is a guiding light, a source of unwavering love, and a true mother in every sense. From the very beginning, she embraced us as her own, making us feel special through countless small and significant acts of care. Her love was never conditional, always inclusive, and she made every effort to ensure we were a part of her life in the most meaningful ways.

One of the most remarkable aspects of her love was how she navigated the complexities of our blended family. She included us in her life and shared the responsibility of caring for our father. Over the years, she showed us what it truly means to be a family—how to stand by each other, support one another, and care for those we love. Her strength and devotion to my father, especially during his years of illness, were nothing short of extraordinary.

Together with my father, Mdm Lau shared a life rich in travel and ministry. Their journeys took them to Israel and beyond, where they served in the church and spread their faith. Despite the challenges they faced - such as my father’s health issues - she never discouraged him from pursuing his passions. They even visited us three times on the mission field, twice in Umanakaina, where my father survived a near-fatal car accident. Their resilience and commitment to each other were a testament to their deep love.

One of the most cherished memories we hold is their visit to the Daga people at Agaun for Joshua's baptism on December 3, 1994. It was a trip that meant much to us, a moment of deep spiritual connection and family unity that we will hold dear.

In the years that followed, Mdm Lau cared for my father with a level of devotion that can only be described as selfless. Though we were unable to assist as much as we wished, she loved him until the very end and grieved deeply after his passing. Her love and dedication to him remain an inspiration to us all.

Today, she continues to live a life of purpose, even on her own, still being a blessing to many others. Our visits with her are filled with tender moments, where we confide in each other, share laughter, and reminisce about the days gone by. Mdm Lau Kan How is a beacon of strength and love in our lives, and her legacy will be cherished by us and the generations to come. She has taught us much about family, love, and devotion, and we are grateful for the time we have shared with her.