SINGAPORE: The quiet paths of Lim Chu Kang Muslim Cemetery were thrown into the public spotlight this week after the Land Transport Authority (LTA) announced that several auto-rickshaws — locally referred to as “tuk-tuks” — had been seized for investigation. The vehicles, unregistered and lacking license plates, had been used by cemetery workers to ferry tools and materials across the vast, winding grounds.
The seizures followed public complaints, with concerns raised over road safety, but beneath the surface of this enforcement action lies a deeper ethical question: what happens when survival, accessibility, and tradition collide with regulation?
The long, lonely roads of Lim Chu Kang
Lim Chu Kang cemetery is one of Singapore’s largest remaining burial grounds, covering over 300 hectares. Divided into sections for various religious groups, the Muslim cemetery alone covers over 26 hectares, with burial plots, tombstone yards, and maintenance sheds spread far apart along sun-beaten gravel roads.
A 60-year-old groundskeeper who has worked in the cemetery since his teens. “I can’t walk far — my leg gives way.”
Many of these workers, some past retirement age, are self-employed or contract labourers hired by families to maintain graves, lay grass, or install tombstones. They do not have employer-provided vehicles and cannot afford trucks or vans. Several said they resorted to tuk-tuks — often solar-powered and imported from China — as a last resort to stay mobile and keep earning a livelihood.
A question of use, not abuse
Unlike road-bound private hire vehicles or scooters used for leisure, these tuk-tuks seldom leave the cemetery.
An owner of one of the tuk-tuks said he paid S$3,800 for his, which runs on solar energy and can last for days on a backup battery. For many workers, the investment is significant — more of a necessity than a convenience.
The LTA has a clear mandate: All motor vehicles used on public roads or lands must be approved and registered to ensure safety and compliance. This ensures accountability and technical roadworthiness, especially in shared public spaces.
However, in places like Lim Chu Kang, the distinction between public and private terrain is blurred. While technically public land, cemeteries are closed, quiet zones with little to no vehicular traffic beyond hearses, family visitors, and workers.
Should the same regulatory expectations that apply to expressways be applied to remote cemetery paths used exclusively by older workers to transport stones and gardening tools?
Unlike salaried gravediggers employed by mosques or the National Environment Authority (NEA), many of these workers operate independently. They are not unionised or represented, and their earnings depend on maintaining the trust of grieving families and returning customers.
The seized vehicles are now impounded, and several workers say they are unsure how they will carry out their duties. Others are waiting, hoping for leniency or clarity.
