Owner of Bras Basah wushu store & former national wushu champion, 78, plans to retire soon 

Tucked away on the fourth floor of Bras Basah Complex is Toh Chwee Huat Ivory Company, a store which sells martial arts equipment and traditional handicraft items.

From the outside, the store blends in pretty easily among the other units. However, when I peered inside through the glass windows, two contrasting scenes emerged.

Rows of Chinese martial arts swords, ranging from short to long and curved to straight, sit neatly against a wall.

Beside them, cupboards brim with wushu uniforms in different colours.

The other half of the store, on the other hand, felt like stepping into a different time and place.

Pendants, porcelain figurines, carved ornaments, and delicate handicrafts lined every shelf.

Even the shelves themselves were worn with age and tradition.

It was an organised clutter, the sort you often find in your grandparents' homes.

When I entered the store, a motion sensor chirped a mechanical "欢迎光临" ("welcome" in Chinese).

It's a small, old-fashioned touch, which instantly broke the store's initial stillness.

Despite its quiet location and the 3pm weekday lull, customers trickled in.

I noted that all of them gravitated toward the wushu equipment, while the section housing the porcelain and handicraft items sat quietly at the other side, a little forgotten.

Behind the counter, 78-year-old owner Toh Cheng Hai and another staff were tending to a young boy trying on wushu shoes.

When I greeted him, Toh looked up with a warm, slightly shy smile that deepened the lines around his eyes.

He let out a soft chuckle, amused but agreeable, when I explained I was there to find out more about him and his store.

Took over his father's business

The shop, he explained, began in 1952 under his father.

He eventually took over because his father needed help, nothing grander than that.

"Not enough manpower," Toh, clearly a man of few words, said with a modest shrug.

To be honest, he had never imagined that he would take over the store, Toh admitted.

He now runs it with one other worker, Wendy Sim.

Wants to retire after selling off the handicraft items

After decades manning the shop, the topic of retirement naturally came up. At that, Toh smiled again, this time with a touch of resignation.

"I’m old already. I think it’s time for me to retire," he said.

Before doing this, however, he hopes to clear out the traditional handicraft items, which younger customers are rarely interested in.

While sales of wushu equipment, which he imports from China under licence, remain steady, the handicraft shelves are slower to move.

As such, Toh has been lowering their prices in an effort to increase their sales.

"If I still can't sell them off by the time I'm 80, then I'll think again," he said.

His children, he added, are not interested in taking over.

"Young people nowadays aren't interested in this kind of thing," he said. Nevertheless, there was no trace of bitterness in his voice regarding the lack of a successor.

Was the winner of a national wushu competition in 1982

What isn’t immediately obvious to customers is that Toh is actually an accomplished wushu practitioner himself.

He began learning the martial art in his twenties, and later went on to become the national champion in 1982.

He has also taught the sport for more than four decades. Even now, he teaches wushu classes at the Singapore Sports Hub with the Shin Zhong Taijiquan Association every Sunday.

To my surprise, Toh revealed that his students ranged from their twenties to their eighties.

I'd mostly known about wushu as a co-curricular activity (CCA) in school, but hearing how diverse the participants in his classes are made me realise how widely the sport is embraced.

He later told me he plans to retire from teaching soon too — after all, many of his students have become instructors themselves, he said with a quiet, unmistakable pride.

Sincere and attentive

When I asked whether retiring feels bittersweet, Toh laughed lightly and waved the idea off, stating simply:

"It's time to retire, so just retire."

Even as the shop approaches its final chapter, every corner holds the echoes of a lifetime of care and dedication.

Throughout the interview, we paused repeatedly as Toh left to help customers.

Each time, he returned with the same steady presence and attentive gaze, his hands loosely clasped in front of him.

Once I was finished with my questions, there was no lingering, no easing out of conversation.

Even before I could get the words "thank you" out of my mouth, Toh gave me a small, courteous smile, then instinctively ducked back into the familiar groove of his day.

Moving straight to the back of the shop, he settled into a small wooden chair, took off his glasses and began working on something intently.

The concentration on his face was unmistakable — his brows were drawn, and his lips pressed together in a quiet line of focus.

Retirement plans notwithstanding. After all, there are customers to attend to and work to do.

Toh Chwee Huat Ivory Company

Location: Bras Basah Complex, 231 Bain St, #04-53, Singapore 180231

Opening Hours: 12:30pm to 7:30pm

Top photos via Mothership and Toh