Row upon row of ornate bamboo cages dangle from 40ft poles on a patch of green, tucked away behind a supermarket and a school. Their occupants, plump zebra doves coo gently to each other, while their elderly owners chat animatedly in the shade of a nearby shelter. Welcome to Kebun Baru Birdsinging Club, the largest bird singing arena in Singapore, now a popular weekend stop-off for tourists and locals searching for an Instagram-worthy slice of traditional Singapore.
For the uninitiated, birdsinging is a popular hobby, prevalent across much of South East Asia, where various species of songbird are bred and trained for the beauty of their calls. Many will be entered into competitions with prizes awarded to those birds who songs are the most melodious, powerful or longest lasting.
Cages containing Zebra Doves hang from the top of tall poles at Kebun Baru Birdclub in Singapore. The cages are hoisted high into the air to mimic the doves natural tree top roosts, while the presence of other birds is meant to encourage the younger birds to sing better.
While such competitions are currently on hold in Singapore due to Covid 19, they would normally take place once a month at Kebun Baru and see up to 200-300 individuals bring their birds to compete - in places like Indonesia and Thailand, the number of competitors can run into the thousands.
Last week saw me finally head to Ang Mo Kio to visit the famous songbird hub to chat to some of the protagonists and get a feel for what it was all about. The idea was to learn more about this hobby and explore possible story ideas that I could try and sell (and I still hope to) to interested publications. I learnt a lot and it was definitely interesting, but I did also find myself coming away with more questions – not least about the ethics of keeping birds caged, even birds bred specifically for the purpose.
First things first, it’s important to say that everyone we met down at the Club, which numbers its members in the thousands, was incredibly generous with their time and incredibly welcoming. From the effusive septuagenarian cage maker whose small workshop-cum-shop is festooned with ornate cages and alive with the flutter of wing and coos of doves, to the 20-year veteran who confessed that songbirds helped him give up gambling on the horses. They all seemed delighted to share their undoubted passion and expertise for their hobby.
Through these guides, I got to hear about the tips and tricks of training and the different characteristics of the four main species that feature at the club: the aforementioned zebra doves, the red-whiskered bulbuls with their punkish-looking black crests, the petite oriental white-eyes and the beautiful blue and orange white-rumped shamas.
What’s more, it was equally clear that they adored the birds they reared and trained and aimed to give them the very best care and attention, all with the hope that they would grow up to be champion singers. More than once someone I spoke to would get almost misty-eyed when describing their emotions when hearing a truly great songbird in full voice.
Yet despite their undoubted passion and despite being surrounded by the bird’s rich tuneful ballads, I also felt slightly uneasy about the whole thing. The bamboo cages, pretty as they were, are after all just that, cages which are stopping these birds from truly stretching their wings.
A red-whiskered bulbul, photographed in Kota Bharu, Malaysia by kleinmatt66
What’s more, while everyone I spoke to at the club told me that 99.9% of songbirds in Singapore are captive-bred, itself a lucrative business that can see birds change hands for thousands of dollars, that’s not always the case across the wider region of South East Asia. Bird singing clubs and competitions are still incredibly popular in Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam and Indonesia and with breeding a costly undertaking, some hobbyists look to the wild for their next prize-winning bird.
Indeed, according to a recent report by Bird Life International, there are now more songbirds in captivity in Indonesia than remain in the country’s disappearing jungles and forests - the most startling statistic from the report had to be that there were only 50 Javan Pied Starlings left in the wild, yet around one million kept in cages.
A white-rumped sharma photographed in the wild, by budgora
Singapore is clearly not the main cause of this issue, the simple fact is the country’s bird singing community is tiny when compared to the likes of Thailand and Indonesia, however it’s still part of the bigger problem.
What’s the solution? An outright ban on songbirds and songbird competitions seems unlikely considering the number of people involved across South East Asia – it also has some powerful fans including the current Indonesian president Joko Widodo. Instead, it seems better controls over demonstrating the breeding provenance of the birds and better protection of wild birds and the forests they call home is the more practical solution.
Of course, like most things in life the answer is not clear or straightforward but it’s an issue I hope to explore in more detail if the opportunity allows. In the meantime, I’ll content myself with enjoying the chattering of the Asian Glossy starlings and the whooping call of the Koel currently drifting through my window. It definitely sounds a little sweeter with the knowledge that those birds are flying free.