COE premium for small cars tops S$100,000 again as prices rise across the board
For smaller cars in Category A, premiums closed at S$101,102 (US$79,000), up from S$98,124 in the last exercise.
Premiums for larger and more powerful cars in Category B rose to S$119,600 from S$116,670.
Open category COEs, which can be used for any vehicle type but end up being used mainly for large cars, rose to S$118,500 from S$116,889.
COEs for commercial vehicles, which include goods vehicles and buses, rose to S$66,689 from S$65,000 in the previous bidding exercise.
Motorcycle premiums closed at S$9,389, up from S$8,600 in the last exercise.
A total of 4,562 bids were received, with a quota of 3,070 COEs available.
In April, the Land Transport Authority announced that the COE quota for the May to July period will increase by more than 6 per cent compared to the previous quarter.
The total number of COEs will rise to 18,232, up from 17,133 in the last quarter, which already saw an 8 per cent increase.
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2 hours ago
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Japan heads to polls in key test for PM Shigeru Ishiba
TOKYO: Japanese voters could unleash political turmoil as they head to the polls on Sunday (Jul 20) in a tightly contested upper house election, with rising prices and immigration concerns threatening to weaken Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba's grip on power. Opinion polls suggest Ishiba's Liberal Democratic Party and coalition partner Komeito may fall short of the 50 seats needed to retain control of the 248-seat upper house of parliament in an election where half the seats are up for grabs. The polls show smaller opposition parties pushing for tax cuts and increased public spending are set to gain, among them the right-wing Sanseito, which vows to curb immigration, oppose foreign capital inflows and reverse gender equality moves. A poor showing by the coalition could shake investor confidence in the world's fourth-largest economy and disrupt critical trade talks with the United States, analysts said. Ishiba may have to choose between making way for a new LDP leader or scrambling to secure the backing of some opposition parties with policy compromises, said Rintaro Nishimura, an associate at the Asia Group in Japan. "Each scenario requires the LDP and Komeito to make certain concessions, and will be challenging, as any potential partner has leverage in the negotiations." After the election, Japan faces a deadline of Aug 1 to strike a trade deal with the United States or face punishing tariffs in its largest export market. Such import levies could squeeze the economy and further pressure the government to give financial relief to households already reeling from inflation, such as a doubling of rice prices since last year. With an eye on a jittery government bond market, the LDP has called for fiscal restraint, rejecting opposition calls for major tax cuts and welfare spending to soften the blow. Ishiba's administration lost its majority in the more powerful lower house in October. That was the LDP's worst showing in 15 years, roiling financial markets and leaving the prime minister vulnerable to no-confidence motions that could topple his administration and trigger a fresh general election. Ruled by the LDP for most of the post-war period, Japan has so far largely avoided the social division and fracturing of politics seen in other industrialised democracies.
CNA
4 hours ago
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After her business failed, she followed in her mum's footsteps and became a bus captain
Most young girls don't grow up dreaming of becoming a bus captain. That was certainly the case for 45-year-old Chow Pei Guan. Although Chow's mother herself pilots a bus, that career path never once crossed her mind. 'I always thought it's a man's job,' Chow, who is Malaysian, told me in Mandarin. When she was in her twenties, Chow had other ambitions. Starting out as a phone shop sales assistant in Ipoh, Malaysia, in 2001, she worked hard to set up her own shop two years later, offering mobile phones, accessories and repair services. One shop grew into four. However, in 2014, her business began to decline and got progressively worse in 2015 when Malaysia introduced its goods and services tax. ' Products became more expensive and profit margins were squeezed. I had to slowly shut down my shops one by one,' she said. In 2016, Chow lost her last shop. Then 36 years old, she was at a loss for what to do. That was when her mother, who has been working in Singapore as a bus captain for 28 years, suggested following in her footsteps – compared with running a small business, it was a stable job with decent benefits. Something clicked, and a year later, Chow came to Singapore to join local public transport operator Go-Ahead Singapore as a bus captain. AN EXTREME CAREER SWITCH Usually, when people talk about careers running in the family, they tend to refer to artisan trades, hawker stalls, or even fields like law and medicine. But you could say bus driving runs in Chow's family. Her father had retired when she was still growing up, so her mother Tay Kwe Huah became the sole breadwinner. Tay left Malaysia in 1997 to become a bus captain in Singapore. 'Female bus captains were very rare then, more so than today. So I was very surprised,' said Chow. 'It's such a big vehicle, and buses were operated manually then, not auto like today, so it was much harder to drive. I thought my mum was very capable.' Chow was in secondary school then and came to visit her mother during the school holidays. She recalls spending entire days on her mother's bus, number 62, riding from Hougang to Geylang and back to Hougang to spend time with her mum. That was some 28 years ago, but the experience remains etched in her memory. She remembers the buildings, ticket inspectors checking tickets, and having lunch with her mother at the bus interchange. Her mother joined Go-Ahead Singapore nearly eight years ago. So when her mother suggested bus driving as a career after her business failed, Chow was struck by a sense of familiarity. 'If I hang on to the attitude that 'I am a boss, I won't do such jobs', I'd forever be stuck and won't be able to change jobs,' she reflected 'Driving a bus is a service job, like my previous role running a mobile phone shop. It is not that different.' Persuaded by the job stability she has seen her mother enjoy, she came to Singapore in 2017 and applied for the job. Chow was the only woman in a batch of six during her training. She was unfamiliar with Singapore roads and driving large vehicles but she pushed through and in 2017, became a bus captain. The first bus she piloted was bus 381, a feeder service in Punggol. 'I was so nervous on my first day. I had to remember my route, learn how to operate the fare box, and meet so many people. I was so shy that I did not say 'hi' to anyone that day,' she laughed. But after three or four trips, Chow felt more at ease. And after driving feeder buses for a year, she confidently tackled longer routes. A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A BUS CAPTAIN Chow has memorised some 30 different routes that traverse the island. She drives a different route each day to cover colleagues on leave. Starting her day at 5.30am, Chow works seven- to eight-hour shifts, although on some days, it can run up to 10 to 12 hours. Depending on how short or long the bus route is, she may make two to 10 trips a day, taking 40- to 60-minute breaks after each trip. After being a bus captain for eight years, sometimes, passengers still look surprised to see her behind the wheel. 'Some aunties will say, 'Wah, it's a very big bus. Can you do it?'' she laughed. 'I will tell them not to worry. I am well trained and will take them to their destination safely.' The idea that bus-driving is a man's role is outdated, she added. 'Just as there are now stay-at-home-dads, there are also many female bus drivers. We can do it as well as men,' she said. In fact, since last year, Chow has become a mentor, coaching one or two new bus captains and helping existing bus captains learn new routes each month – this usually takes up a week or two. When she is not mentoring, she drives a bus daily. One thing she loves about her job is exploring different parts of Singapore each day. Her favourite bus service is 518, an almost three-hour ride from Pasir Ris to Orchard Road and Marina Bay Sands – it passes gorgeous city light-ups during the festive season, said Chow who takes this route twice a month. She also discovers famous local eateries such as Beach Road Prawn Mee and Bedok Interchange Hawker Centre during her daily drives, as well as from passenger recommendations. She also sees all manner of commuters during her daily rounds – kind passengers who shield others from the rain with their umbrellas, belligerent aunties who cut queues, and students who try to smuggle and eat all types of food on board, including piping hot cup noodles. These quirks add colour to her day. 'There is a child whose school is just across the road from his house. Instead of crossing the road, he will take my bus one full round just to get to the other side of the road to go to school. That's how much he loves to take the bus,' she laughed. Over time, many passengers have become friends, and some even cook dessert like bubur cha cha for her. As a bus captain, she also helps the vulnerable in the community, such as seniors and children who fall asleep, miss their stop or get lost. 'For lost seniors, we usually contact our operation control centre who will call the police and assist them when they get to the interchange. 'In the case of lost children, some will cry, so I'll pacify them first. Once we get to the interchange, I will ask them to wait for me, and take them back to their stop on the return trip,' she said. FINDING LOVE AT THE DEPOT One thing Chow did not expect was to find love at the bus depot. It was at the operation control centre that she got to know her husband. They hit it off and the couple began to meet at the canteen, texting each other, and going out for meals. Quickly, a romance blossomed. 'Whenever I encountered obstacles at work, he would comfort me and help me think of solutions. I like how mature he is,' she said. In 2021, after dating for three years, they got married, and at the age of 41, Chow gave birth to her beloved son. Her mum lives with them now. Today, she embraces her role as bus captain, wife and mother. Just as Chow rode in her mother's bus as a teenager, her husband also took their young son for a leisurely ride on her bus last year. 'Now, whenever he sees a Go-Ahead Singapore bus, he will say it's Mama's bus,' Chow laughed. It is a simple and happy life, Chow said. 'I always believe if you have the right attitude, you can turn your life around at any age. 'After going one big round, I think maybe my fate is somehow tied to bus driving,' she added. 'If I'd known this, I would have switched to being a bus captain a few years earlier.'
CNA
6 hours ago
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‘We were gutsy, a little foolish': Co-founder Lyn Lee on how Awfully Chocolate became a cult cake brand early in the game
Local F&B entrepreneurs would unanimously agree that two decades is a lifetime to remain in business. Soaring labour and ingredient costs aside, surely the eye-watering rents would be enough to drive an honest proprietor to rack and ruin — not to mention the occasional black swan event such as financial crises and a full-blown pandemic. Despite rolling with those punches to establish Awfully Chocolate as an enduring, 27-year-old local brand, its co-founder Lyn Lee is adamant about not downplaying the towering odds stacked against her and her counterparts. She has even declined interviews on the hot-button issue of rising rents. 'I don't want to be used to say, 'See, Awfully Chocolate can survive because they did this and that. You didn't pivot.' I will not be drawn into that,' she said. A tendency to couch her words in careful disclaimers hints at Lee's former career in law. But on one point, she's unequivocal: 'In any one of those cases of a business shutting down reported in the news, it was 100 per cent because of the rent,' she added emphatically. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Awfully Chocolate Singapore (@awfullychocolatesg) Yet, amid growing calls for government intervention to rein in rent hikes and safeguard local businesses, Lee stops short of echoing those demands and leans instead toward forging stronger support networks among fellow tenants. 'If we all started looking at how we could band together and support one another, that should be an improvement. Otherwise, the market may correct itself.' While the laws of capitalism may stand in the way of rent control, she does however, argue that a vibrant F&B sector doesn't develop by happenstance. 'Everyone says, Singapore is so boring and everything is the same. But if you don't have different markers for how to have different types of businesses, it will be very dull.' CHASING THE PERFECT CHOCOLATE CAKE Fitting into a ubiquitous mould was far from Lee and her co-founders' minds when they launched Awfully Chocolate in 1998, in the upheaval of the Asian Financial Crisis. There, in a quiet nook of pre-gentrified Katong, the friends opened a flagship store offering just one item: A simple chocolate cake they'd spent months refining. Focusing single-mindedly on just one product — with no fallback plan and zero market research to hitch their wagon to — was nothing short of audacious. Family and friends dismissed the venture as a non-starter and gave it two months to survive. 'To them, we were making very weird decisions,' she recalled. ''How can you open in Katong, where it's all about laksa and Peranakan food? Who's going to go there to buy a whole cake?'' But Lee and her co-founders, then in their 20s, weren't swayed. In her words, they were 'contrarian' — more inclined to go against the grain than follow it. 'My partners were 'Katong-ites'. They said we had to be where the best food is, and that if you could make it in Katong, you could make it anywhere else,' recounted Lee. While none of them possessed F&B experience, the huddle of dreamers had long flirted with the idea of embarking on 'some cool adventure.' Lee, a former lawyer who worked at leading law firm Allen & Gledhill, had left the profession to work in a media company. She convinced her young and restless crew to join her in her pursuit for the 'perfect chocolate cake.' It took months of folding batter into submission, and plying loved ones with chocolate cake, before they sank funds into leasing their Katong store. Its stark, pared down aesthetic had less to do with design intent than with the reality of a skint budget. They could scarcely afford a refrigerator, let alone a display counter. 'Our friend who helped to design the logo asked, 'Why do you need a display counter when you're only selling one cake? It would look so silly to display 12 dark brown circles',' she recalled. Defying convention, she said, helped them to stand out in a space saturated with Ultraman cakes dripping in chromatic excess. 'I believe the early articles called us the cake shop that doesn't look like a cake shop. It was quite cutting-edge.' Their first big break came from a feature in lifestyle magazine 8 Days, after being discovered by playwright Michael Chiang, who was formerly the editorial director of Mediacorp Publishing. 'When he chose to feature this funky little cake shop, it drew attention, because back then they wrote about music and entertainment, not food,' shared Lee. The publicity pole-vaulted the business into the public consciousness, and the phone didn't stop ringing after that. 'We could only bake around 50 cakes a day, so we would sell out and go home,' she recalled. Awfully Chocolate became a cult chocolate cake brand early in the game — thanks, in no small part, to a quality some would have written off as foolhardiness. 'We were gutsy, a little foolish, but we believed there might be enough room for us to do trial and error,' said Lee. She now tries to pass on some of that scrappy, self-starting spirit to her team, whom she encourages to produce their publicity videos in-house. 'I'm always pushing the younger generation to not worry that they may not have a formal qualification in something that the job scope requires,' shared the 52-year-old. A RECIPE FOR RESILIENCE Growing a hole-in-the-wall setup into an international brand — with franchises once spanning Taiwan, China, and Hong Kong — has, however necessitated no small measure of agility. Rather than framing her entrepreneurial journey as a dichotomy of missteps and masterstrokes, Lee views it as a series of moves, 'one step at a time.' When Awfully Chocolate first ventured into urban malls, the co-founders realised that shoppers weren't inclined to lug an entire cake from store to store. In response, they began opening cafes that offered cake by the slice, along with a medley of bite-sized indulgences including chocolate truffles and ice cream. Over time, they uncovered new revenue streams — from corporate gifting to, more recently, a product line curated for hotels. That's not to say they haven't made big swings, either. At the end of 2024, they launched their own roastery in China, where they've been experimenting with innovations such as tea brewed from caffeine-free cacao husks. The latter is served at The Awfully Chocolate Experience Cafe that opened in Wisma Atria that same year. 'We've had exchanges with leading agricultural scientists from Wilmar International, and learnt how to use some of their healthy plant-based innovations,' shared Lee. Years of investing heavily in research and development for their B2B arm have paid off. 'We have this whole in-house setup where corporates can give us a vague idea of what they want and our R&D, design and marketing teams will just bring it to life,' she said. These capabilities, she noted, have to an extent girded them against the vagaries of an increasingly volatile rental market. Other external pressures brought to bear upon the business include the COVID-19 pandemic that hit like a sledgehammer to their China operations. 'From over 60 stores, we were whittled down to just a handful in two cities,' she revealed, adding that conditions in the mainland remain challenging amid a sluggish economy. While the pandemic took its toll on business in Singapore, Lee says they pulled through by biting the bullet and forgoing their salaries, for the most part, during those trying months. 'One of my business partners who did a lot of work restructuring companies during the Asian Financial Crisis shared that those that made it had teams that came together and believed that they would come out stronger if they made the sacrifices,' she related. 'When everyone starts thinking about themselves, that's when you see the whole thing fall apart.' Working with her friends for close to three decades, she insists, has been a blast, with no major conflict to grouse of. 'I'm very much a frontline person — I always think like a customer. Some of my partners, on the other hand, aren't that way,' she laughed. 'But that's the wonderful diversity and synergy between different personalities.' While the close-knit group may wax facetious about the 'cliche' of building a business on Lee's love of chocolate, it's proven to be a richly layered endeavour. For one, delving into the nuances of the Singaporean palate has deepened her appreciation for her country itself. Locals, she observes, tend to favour dark chocolate that's neither overly rich nor cloying, with a warm, toasty finish. 'I almost liken this to how amazing Singapore's food is. Like how there must be wok hei (smokiness),' enthused Lee. She volunteered that she eats chocolate cake for breakfast — a habit her kids 'find weird.' 'I love that we have our own Singaporean identity when it comes to chocolate preference, and I hope that we can share that more with the world.'
