We built a nation on the premise that we could achieve more together than apart. Shared sacrifice and mutual consideration weren’t just nice ideals, but survival necessities in our small, dense island home.
Somewhere along the way, something shifted.
I notice it in my estate: raised voices, heavy footsteps and thundering subwoofers blaring through walls at all hours. Doors and gates slamming as if no one else lives here. Food dumped directly into communal chutes. Recycling bins filled with everything but recyclables. Litter left in corridors and void decks.
I notice it at bus stops where smokers light up beside the shelters they are meant to stand 5m from and casually dropping spent butts all around the bin, not in it. On footpaths where personal mobility device riders barrel past pedestrians, music blaring, swerving rather than slowing.
