A few months ago, I blogged about my Singapore trip to Haw Par Villa’s Hell Museum and the Ten Courts of Hell. One of the highlights of that trip was learning about our dying cultural heritage: the traditional Chinese grave. This prompted me to research Chinese tombstones, and my uncle was able to provide a photo of my maternal grandfather’s tombstone, which no longer exists. His grave was exhumed in 2013, and his remains were placed alongside my grandmother’s at Toa Payoh Kong Meng San Phor Kark See Monastery. I’ll explain why we needed to exhume him shortly.

Burial was traditionally the preferred way of handling the dead, and very few people chose cremation for various reasons. Some believe that when the deceased return to visit, they may smell of smoke or feel “too dry.” Would you believe this? My father once appeared in my dream asking me to buy him a drink because he felt too hot—he was cremated in 2007. Others worry about being scattered at sea, fearing they might become a “water ghost” or feel cold even in spirit form. There are many such beliefs, though we may never truly know. In 1963, the Vatican lifted its ban on cremation for Catholics, which allowed Catholic Singaporeans to choose cremation.
Singapore is a small island with limited land. From the 1960s to the 1990s, the dead had to make way for the living as many areas were redeveloped into new towns and housing estates. For example, Bishan—where my mother and sister still live—was once home to Kwong Wai Siew Peck San Theng, a century-old cemetery that mainly served the Cantonese and Hakka communities. In total, 75,234 graves were exhumed to make way for the construction of Bishan New Town in 1983.
Following this period of redevelopment, the authorities began encouraging cremation over burial and built crematoria to manage the demand. Today, there are over 60 columbaria in Singapore. Only Choa Chu Kang Cemetery remains open for burials, and even then, plots are leased for just 15 years. In 1998, the New Burial Policy came into effect, meaning burial is no longer permanent. After 15 years, all remains are exhumed and either reburied or cremated. For Muslim burials, if remains are claimed before exhumation, eight individuals are re-interred in one grave; if unclaimed, up to 16 may share a grave. At Choa Chu Kang Cemetery, there are designated sections for fresh burials and re-interments, with graves for new burials constructed at ground level.
My grandfather passed away in 1989, before this policy was introduced. However, my uncles later decided to exhume him so that his ashes could be placed beside my grandmother’s. This makes it easier for younger generations to visit both ancestors in one place during the Qingming Festival (Tomb-Sweeping Day).

My grandfather’s grave occupied a smaller footprint compared to those built before the 1980s. From that period onward, space allocations became standardised at Choa Chu Kang Cemetery. Previously, grave sizes varied depending on a family’s wealth—the larger and more elaborate the grave, the wealthier the family was perceived to be.
The realm of the dead is believed to mirror the realm of the living, which is why traditional Chinese graves resemble traditional Chinese houses in their architecture. The tumulus (mu dui), the grass-covered mound, corresponds to the back chamber of a house. Its horseshoe shape, flanked by ridges, protects the grave from strong winds while also allowing the spirit a clear view of its descendants.

The altar and headstone (mu pai) correspond to the main hall, which typically houses ancestral tablets. My grandfather’s headstone bears both his name and my grandmother’s, even though she had not yet passed away at the time—something I still don’t fully understand.

The side columns represent the wings of the house, while the grave court (mu ting) corresponds to the central courtyard.

Depending on one’s means, additional features could be included. In my grandfather’s case, there was a stone lion on each side (a common feature for male graves) and four inscribed couplets. Decorative carvings of landscapes were also added. On the right side stood the Earth Deity (Hou Tu), accompanied by two joss stick holders—one for my grandfather and one for Hou Tu.
Sometimes, visitors leave a small stone on the tombstone to indicate that they have paid their respects.
The photo I’ve included was taken during my visit to Haw Par Villa, where the traditional Chinese grave was displayed as a sample exhibit. The lady shown in the image is not a real person; she was created digitally using a composite of archival photographs.


Singapore is my favourite place, been many times….I lived at Seletar in the late 60 to early seventies as husband was in the RAF there.I cannot believe how Singapore has moved on since then….it is the most modern and incredible place ever while still keeping all it traditions and amazing old temples. The people are lovely very friendly, always happy, no crime to speak of, spotlessly clean everywhere…..it is Nirvana