SINGAPORE: In Singapore, where real estate is precious and space is tighter than your grab driver’s parking spot on a Saturday night, families are turning to creative solutions. Unfortunately, not all of them are kind.
The “maid room” — a term now synonymous with bomb shelters and utility rooms in many Build-to-Order (BTO) flats and condos. Once built for emergencies, these small, windowless boxes are increasingly being rebranded as living quarters for foreign domestic workers (FDWs). But are we disguising practicality as progress? Or simply camouflaging discomfort?
RICE Media hit the streets to find out, and what they uncovered was a complex mix of justification, concern, and quiet suffering.
When being pragmatic becomes problematic
“I think this is very inhumane to let the maid sit in the bomb shelter. I don’t think it will have proper ventilation,” said one woman who was interviewed. And she’s not alone in thinking that a room built to withstand explosions might not be the coziest space to catch some shut-eye.
But not everyone sees it that way.
“I think using the bomb shelter or laundry room as a maid’s room is okay because some people just do not have an extra room to be able to help give to the helper,” said one resident, pointing out the harsh reality of space constraints in Singaporean homes.
One employer admitted: “I have a live-in helper with me. She stays in the utility room by herself… to be pragmatic, is there an alternative?”
That seems to be the prevailing sentiment — pragmatism over perfection.
Space-saving or soul-crushing?
To understand how livable these spaces truly are, RICE Media spoke to the helpers themselves. And let’s just say, “cozy” isn’t exactly the word they’d use.
“My employer said, ‘You cannot touch the room, you cannot go inside because you cannot stay inside the bomb shelter for so long,’” shared one domestic worker, visibly concerned.
Another helper said bluntly, “It’s not okay to sleep in the bomb shelter. I want my room to be very comfortable for rest, so that I can do my work properly the next day,” and summed it up with: “We respect you, and you can also respect us.”
The recurring theme? Rest is not a luxury; it’s a requirement for good work. Yet many helpers report cramped quarters, lack of privacy, and even safety issues.
Store rooms, not storm rooms
Some employers take a more conscientious approach, as the earlier one explained how when he had two helpers and only one utility room, he offered the larger bedroom, but surprisingly, both helpers wanted the smaller one, likely out of shyness.
“I think minimally, employers must provide a wall fan… and the door has to be opened. If privacy is an issue, maybe you can have a small curtain or cloth covering,” he said.
And others go further.
“If you have the money to hire a helper, you should be able to provide the helper with the right amenities and the right place to stay,” said another woman, who shared she had friends who turned their spare storeroom into a bedroom by clearing it out for their helpers.
It’s also a sentiment echoed by the interviewed resident, who described horror stories of helpers sleeping in bomb shelters stacked with boxes, which are uncomfortable and dangerously unsafe.
“In newer estates like Sengkang, these rooms are two by one meters at most.
That’s the biggest it gets. Other places just get smaller and smaller.”
A place to sleep or a place to rest?
One domestic helper pointed out the stress of having no personal space at all: “I have a friend who sleeps in the living room… her employer is still in the living room, so she cannot sleep early. So she always sleeps late.”
Another stressed the importance of simple dignity: “Privacy is very important…”
A good night’s sleep should not be a workplace perk — it should be a basic right. “We’re not asking for a big room. We’re asking for it to be comfortable enough so we can rest after work,” she added.
Humanity over hierarchy
Despite the grim stories, not all employers treat their helpers as invisible labour.
“I told my helper that as long as she finishes her job, she can do whatever she wants,” the employer shared. “We can’t help them reunite with their family often. But if you let them have access to the internet, they might feel happier… so treat them like a normal human being, treat them like a fellow colleague or a younger brother or sister.”
The earlier resident who was interviewed also urged the community to shed its bias.
“Sometimes when I hang out with my friends, I see a bunch of helpers during the weekends. And there are comments — ‘Oh, it’s them again,’ or ‘They’re making a ruckus.’ Just let them live. They’re coming here to help our economy. They have no ill intent at all. Try to integrate them into our community,” he advised.
The uncomfortable truth
The growing rebranding of bomb shelters as ‘maid rooms’ might look like an architectural convenience. But at its core lies a tough question: are we offering our helpers a place to live, or merely a place to stay?
Many Singaporeans would never consider placing a family member in a bomb shelter. Yet for some, it’s deemed acceptable for the person who cooks their meals, cares for their children, and supports their elderly parents.
If foreign domestic helpers are expected to treat their employers’ families like their own, shouldn’t they be treated like part of the household too?
As the woman who was interviewed above put it: “I’ll tell people who ask helpers to sleep in the bomb shelter — why not they try for themselves first? If they can survive, then it’s okay.”
Check out the RICE Media‘s episode Singapore, Unfiltered video below to witness the full street interview while exploring their perspectives even more in depth:
