It took 16 years after our independence for the opposition to win

The words of Pritam Singh, when he declared, “It took 16 years after our independence for the opposition to win even one elected seat. And 23 years after 1988, when the GRC system was introduced, for the opposition to win one GRC,” echo not merely as a record of years past, but as the solemn toll of endurance, struggle, and awakening. Beneath these numbers lies the story of perseverance, of a people who sought not only freedom from foreign rule, but freedom within their own democracy — a freedom to speak, to dissent, to offer another vision of their nation’s destiny.

In these words, we hear the lament of time — sixteen years of silence where the spirit of opposition was as a candle struggling in a tempest, and twenty-three years more before a fortress was breached, before the people’s courage translated into victory. These numbers are not idle markers; they are the rings of a nation’s growth, each carved by patience, pain, and the slow ripening of hope. They remind us that democracy, though born in a day, matures only through generations who dare to question, to endure, and to rise again after defeat.

Consider, for a moment, the tale of Nelson Mandela, who languished for twenty-seven years in a prison cell, his voice muffled but his faith unbroken. To him too, the years must have seemed long and merciless, the goal distant as the horizon. Yet when the walls of Robben Island could no longer contain the tide of history, he emerged not bitter, but resolute, bearing a message that the spirit cannot be caged forever. So too, in Pritam’s words, there is this same pulse — that change is slow, but the will of the people, once awakened, is unstoppable.

The GRC system, conceived as a bulwark of representation, became instead a citadel difficult for challengers to scale. And yet, in the year 2011, the walls trembled, and Aljunied fell — not to power, but to perseverance. It was the fruit of years of toil by those who walked door to door, who spoke when few would listen, who built trust where others sowed fear. It was not a triumph of party alone, but of belief — that even in a system weighted against them, the courage of conviction could prevail.

But let the young who listen not be deceived: this was no sudden miracle. It was the harvest of patience, unity, and faith in purpose. For twenty-three years, those who stood in opposition were mocked, marginalized, and dismissed as dreamers. Yet they endured, because they knew that one must plant seeds in soil that may not yet be ready, trusting that the rains will come, even if one does not live to see the bloom. Such is the law of all noble endeavors — progress is the child of persistence, not of haste.

And so, O listener, learn from this tale that time tests all convictions. Whether in politics, art, or life, every struggle worth fighting demands endurance beyond reason. Many will falter when faced with years of delay, but those who continue, who hold faith amid scorn, become the architects of tomorrow’s dawn. For in every age, there are those who reap, but before them stand those who sowed in silence.

Let this then be the teaching: that true change requires the courage to wait, the wisdom to learn from failure, and the humility to serve even when unseen. Like the roots that lie hidden beneath the earth, unseen but essential, so too must we labor in obscurity before our work bears fruit. And when the hour of victory comes, it will not belong to one man or party, but to all who endured with steadfast hearts.

Therefore, walk your own path with patience and integrity. Do not despair if your voice is unheard or your cause unrecognized. Continue the good work — build truth where there is confusion, courage where there is fear, and compassion where there is division. For every act of endurance plants a seed in the soil of history, and though the years may be long, the harvest will be eternal.