As we walked down a quiet row of shop units in the Bukit Merah HDB estate, the morning peace was interrupted by the sound of heavy boxes being dragged across the floor. Alone in his shop, Uncle Chieng was already hard at work, loading up his bike with ice cream, dry ice, and ingredients for the day ahead. From his grunts of struggle to the beads of sweat dripping down his face, it became clear that his craft—selling ice cream along the streets of Orchard—is no easy feat. What stood out, however, was the decades of passion and hard work that fueled his routine.
At 77, Uncle Chieng still seemed quite strong—I’d even say that he’s more active than some of my couch-potato friends. But with age catching up to him, he shared that he feels the strain on his body. “Here got pain,” he said, pointing to his back.
In fact, watching him work kept us on our toes. At times, he struggled, even knocking several styrofoam boxes onto the ground. But to him, it was no big deal. Brushing the incident aside, he mentioned that he’s lived through far tougher days, back when life as a street hawker was much harder than it is now.
Curious to know more, I waited for a break to ask about his life as an ice cream uncle and why the trade seems to be on a steady decline. To my surprise, he invited us to follow him around for the rest of the day and experience the job firsthand—an offer we happily accepted.
In the early years of Singapore, street hawking was rampant, with vendors selling everything from bak kut teh to ice cream along dirty and crowded streets. But everything changed with the arrival of hawker centres in the 70s, offering vendors easy access to modern conveniences, such as clean running water. However, Uncle Chieng says that while many relocated, the flourishing ice cream trade stayed on the streets as they didn’t fit the new hawker centre layouts.
He shared that it was not until 1994 that the government decided to legitimise street hawkers through a one-time licensing exercise, which gave them a non-transferable lifetime permit to operate. While such regulations led to cleaner stalls and fewer cases of food poisoning, they were designed to reduce and, ultimately, phase out street hawking. “They came and chased us out,” he said.
The only other licensing exercise came in the early 2000s, giving aspiring hawkers, including his son, a temporary license to operate. At first, it seemed like a win-win solution, preserving the industry while controlling numbers. However, that was just one side of the story, as the scheme only allowed hawkers to sell within their neighbourhoods, making it less profitable in quieter areas.
As one of the few remaining ice cream uncles with an original street hawking license, Uncle Chieng can set up his ice cream cart anywhere. That’s why he moved from his initial vending spot in Queenstown to the bustling intersection outside Takashimaya 32 years ago.
At this point, his phone alarm interrupted the conversation, prompting a pause. He still had to make his way to Orchard, a 20 to 30-minute ride under the hot sun from the shop.
After reaching Takashimaya, we watched as Uncle Chieng assembled his stall, fixing large umbrella stands and several pieces of metal into place.
Only when everything was finally set up did his day truly begin. From there, he spends hours on his feet, attending to an endless stream of customers.
According to Uncle Chieng, one of the most gruelling parts of the job is the unforgiving weather. The heat and humidity make the physically demanding task even more exhausting.
During a quick tea break to rehydrate, he mentioned that on especially hot days, he’d feel particularly “sleepy” and sluggish by the late afternoon. And while rainy days bring cooler weather, they could also mean less foot traffic and fewer sales.
It’s all hard work, but the warm smile he offers to every passer-by and patron shows just how much he loves the job.
Beyond the physical strain, Uncle Chieng also had to deal with a lot of competition over the years, despite being the first on the block. At the peak of the trade, around 20 different ice cream hawkers set up nearby, many selling the same products.
To stand out, he made an effort to befriend his customers. Pointing to his scrapbook-like wall-of-fame, he proudly shared the strong customer base he’s built over the years, including tourists and VIPs from all over the globe. “This one is the Prime Minister of Thailand, and this one is a Hong Kong actor,” he pointed out.
However, things have changed over the years. With the introduction of stricter regulations and enforcement, the once-crowded street of ice cream hawkers slowly dwindled, as unlicensed sellers were forced to leave. And with more elderly hawkers retiring today, the scene is a stark contrast from the past. “Before there were plenty, now left five (ice cream hawkers),” he said.
With rising costs and several F&B closures making the news recently, I was also curious to know if Uncle Chieng was feeling the pinch. While he acknowledged that stock and fuel costs have risen over the years, he told us that he still manages to get by, earning just enough to keep the business sustainable. Despite the rising costs, he stressed that his ice cream prices have remained mostly unchanged, only increasing by a few cents to keep them affordable at $1.50.
As Singapore’s legacy ice cream uncles continue to age, it’s no wonder that many are choosing to retire rather than take on the heavy demands of the job. Coupled with their non-transferable licenses and lack of new licensing exercises, the future of the trade looks uncertain. “It’s sad. It’s all going away,” Uncle Chieng said, a faint frown crossing his face. “It’s a waste of the culture.”
But with a passion to keep the heritage alive, he has no plans to retire anytime soon. “Do until cannot anymore. At home I do nothing anyway,” he said, adding that he’s already used to the routine and believes staying active is far better than sitting at home.
Honestly, given the way things are going, I wouldn’t be surprised if Singapore’s ice cream hawker trade fades out in the next few years. The lack of government support for older hawkers, combined with several regulatory roadblocks, makes it difficult—if not impossible—for them to pass the baton on to the next generation of young, aspiring hawkers. “Last time it was so easy to sell ice cream, now even getting a license is impossible. Cannot pass the tradition anymore.” Uncle Chieng remarked.
While the job may not be the most appealing to many, Uncle Chieng believes that revamping and loosening regulations would help to preserve this important part of Singapore’s heritage. He suggested that even opening up a small number of new street hawking licenses could make a difference.
That said, Uncle Chieng and his son, Alvin, haven’t been waiting around for change. Instead, they’ve been hard at work, kick-starting several efforts to keep the heritage alive.
An example is their expansion into ice cream cart catering. In 2003, they opened Creme of Dreams Pte Ltd to carry on Uncle Chieng’s legacy. After it was bought over by an investor in 2011, the duo launched Uncle Chieng Pte Ltd in 2016. The new venture not only focused on catering but also supplied other ice cream uncles in Singapore.
Currently, Alvin primarily manages the catering arm, with Uncle Chieng joining the team on-site when possible. Alvin shared that the venture has been beneficial, with events such as weddings and corporate functions generating additional funds to sustain the business. It’s also served as a platform to introduce their ice cream carts to new audiences and raise awareness of the dying trade.
They’ve also grown their presence on social media, engaging with fans on their Facebook page and sharing behind-the-scenes content.
I’d like to stay optimistic about the future of our ice cream uncles. The fight to keep the heritage alive is certainly a tough one, but watching Uncle Chieng and his team adapt and push forward gives me reason to believe that not all is lost.
For more interesting stories, check out our future of wet markets feature, where we looked into the slow disappearance of Singapore’s traditional wet markets. Otherwise, read our F&B work feature to find out about how Singapore’s F&B workers have been affected by the recent spate of restaurant closings.
Uncle Chieng Traditional & Wafer Ice Cream Stall
Address: 391 Orchard Road, outside Takashimaya Shopping Centre, Singapore 238801
Opening hours: Daily 1pm to 10pm
Tel: 8881 3133
Website
Uncle Chieng Traditional & Wafer Ice Cream Stall is not a halal-certified eatery but uses no pork or lard.
Uncle Chieng Pte Ltd
Address: 161 Bukit Merah Central, Singapore 150161
Opening hours: Daily 8:30am to 1pm
Tel: 8881 3133
Website
Uncle Chieng Pte Ltd is not a halal-certified eatery but uses no pork or lard.
Photos taken by Jordan Ong.
This was an independent visit by Eatbook.sg.