SINGAPORE CITY (SINGAPORE) – Several ordinary residents who work as taxi drivers or office staff could be of royal blood, the descendants of a 19th-century king who ceded control of the island to the British.
But very few of them are really aware of their royal lineage. Tengu (prince) Shawal is acclaimed by some members of his family as the ‘head of the house of Singapore’.
The 51-year-old says that many sound incredulous and ask “They still exist?” when he tells them he is one of the descendants of Sultan Hussein Shah, who entered into a treaty with Britain that led to colonial rule and the founding of modern Singapore.
He is one among the several residents in the city state who bear the honorific title of Tengku, showing their links to the Sultan.
Until the beginning of this century, some of the royal descendants lived in a crowded, dilapidated palace. However, they were evicted when the government acquired the building and turned it into a museum.
As part of colonial-era treaty to provide for the Sultan’s family, as many as 79 descendants, of whom 14 were residing in the palace, were given payouts. Many of the others were living overseas.
The names of legal beneficiaries have not been made public.
According to the government, all but one of the payments have been made.
Shawal displayed government correspondence, which identifies him as a beneficiary. He regularly visits the palace-turned-museum, the nearby mosque and cemetery in the Malay heritage enclave called Kampong Glam.
Despite the slash in income and his logistics job facing risk because of the pandemic, Shawal still finds time to keep the regal heritage alive by dressing up in traditional royal attire and taking part in celebratory events.
But other royal descendants are wary about living in the past or too busy with the hardships of daily life.
“We are not a dynasty. It is not important whether you are a descendant of the royal family or not,” said Tengku Indra, a 67-year-old consultant who once lived in the palace as a child.
“What is crucial is you must earn your life through meritocracy instead of enjoying an ascribed status based on ancestral position.”
Indra was termed the great-great-great-great grandson of Sultan Hussein in an article by government-affiliated heritage society Friends of the Museums Singapore in 2019.
His son, Tengku Azan, a 40-year-old businessman, has a two-year-old daughter who would be one of the youngest descendants.
He believes that future generations will not take an interest in their royal status or the Sultan’s history. “The past inadvertently takes a back seat and remains uncherished,” he said.
There are royal descendants who are struggling to make ends meet like Tengku Faizal, 43, who left the palace in 1999. He took up the job of a cleaner in a condominium and would often be teased as the prince who handles garbage.
Though he now drives a taxi, yet he finds it difficult to make ends meet and has been provided with financial help to cover his daughter’s childcare fees. His wife works part-time in a McDonald’s outlet.
“We are not smart, we are not rich,” Faizal said. “We got title only.”
Meanwhile, in neighbouring Malaysia, which is a constitutional monarchy, the Sultans play an active role in public life and honorific titles are common compared to Singapore.
Although Shawal is very keen on flaunting his royal lineage, he is reluctant to pass it on to the next generation. That is why he did not give the title to his daughter at birth.
Princess Puteri, 27, who works for a biotech company, has reclaimed her royal title of Tengku. But she says explaining her lineage is an uphill task in a state which has mostly forgotten this piece of history.
“Some part of me feels sad because I need to explain who I am. But the moment when they look at Prince Harry they know he is the prince,” she said.