PropNex agent, 35, sells up to 200kg of durians per day from parents' Pasir Ris landed home

Every June, the porch of a semi-detached house in Pasir Ris fills up with crates of thorny fruit.

For property agent Alex Chua, 35, this is when his second job kicks into gear.

By day, Chua is a realtor with PropNex.

But for around four to five months a year, he moonlights as the man behind Bao Jiak Durian, a home-based business at 19 Riverina View that sees him sell anywhere between 100kg and 200kg of durians daily, and rakes in between S$50,000 and S$100,000 in revenue per year.

Yes, he sells them out of his parents' home.

But talk to Chua long enough, and there's more to Bao Jiak Durian than just the price tag and his parents' porch.

Feeling cheated by durian sellers

Long before Bao Jiak Durian existed, Chua was just a durian lover doing the rounds of stalls across Singapore.

However, he frequently came away unimpressed.

"The durian handlers would claim that the durian they are selling are Mao Shan Wang (MSW), Black Gold, old tree mountain top durians, but in actual fact, they usually give you a different variant and you just have to eat it."

He wasn't alone in feeling this way, either.

Chua told Mothership that he'd heard the same complaint from friends and clients time and again — that buying durians in Singapore often felt like a gamble, with an added side of intimidation.

That was when Chua decided to set out and build something different: a space where buyers could ask questions and walk away with a durian they actually wanted, no hard-selling involved.

"No misselling, no misrepresentation" is how Chua put it.

Underpinning it all, of course, is a fairly simple motivation.

"I live and breathe durians," he said.

Chua personally cuts and serves the durians at his stall.

From an Ang Mo Kio stall to the front porch

Bao Jiak Durian did not start off as a home-based business.

Chua first launched it as a brick-and-mortar stall in Ang Mo Kio in 2019.

That, unfortunately, came to an abrupt end when Covid-19 hit and Chua’s stall was forced to shutter.

Rather than fold the business entirely, Chua pivoted.

He successfully applied to the Accounting and Corporate Regulatory Authority (ACRA) to register his home as a business address, and relocated Bao Jiak Durian to his parents' semi-detached house at Riverina View.

Setting up shop at his parents' place wasn't a given. Chua said his parents were initially bewildered by the idea.

He told Mothership: "They all gave me the same look, they were dumbfounded and bewildered as to why I made that decision."

"Nevertheless, they did what all parents do, support me in whichever ways that they could."

Asked whether he recognises the privilege of being able to run a business out of his parents' landed property, Chua didn't dodge the question:

"Running the business from my parents' house has plenty of benefits. I get to see my aging parents on a daily basis, which is something that I truly appreciate and cherish."

He's also quick to point out that a home-based set-up isn't a free pass, business-wise: without active marketing, walk-in traffic is close to zero, and a fruit with a notoriously short shelf life doesn't leave much room for error.

The not-so-sweet side of the business

None of this came cheap, either.

Chua estimates he ploughed in around S$10,000 to S$15,000 in capital when he first started the business seven years ago.

The bigger risk, though, is time.

"Durians have a very short shelf life, the timer starts when the fruit dropped in Malaysia," he said, describing the journey from harvest to sorting at a factory, and finally, transport to Singapore.

Singapore's heat only shrinks that already-tight window further.

"Every day I am racing against time to clear the durians as fast as I can," he added.

Then there are the customers. Chua said managing expectations, more than the durians themselves, has been the toughest part of the job.

"There are some people out there that are really tough to please, but I can understand where they are coming from," he said, rattling off a list of the sort of questions he regularly fields: Is this durian from Malaysia? Is it from Pahang? Are the seeds small? Flat? Is it bitter? Wet? Soft?

His answer, invariably, is the same — durians are “fruits of nature”, and no seller can guarantee specifics.

If a customer's preferences don't match what he has in stock, Chua said he'd rather turn them away than have them "waste their money and calories".

The moments that make it worth it

Despite the risks, the business has grown into a fairly lucrative one.

Bao Jiak Durian now sells between 100kg and 200kg of durians a day during peak season.

All told, the business pulls in between S$50,000 and S$100,000 in revenue per year, Chua told Mothership, while overheads come up to less than S$5,000 a month, largely because he doesn't have to pay rent.

The split in revenue between his two jobs is roughly even as well.

"Revenue has been okay for this short mid-year season. I would say that it's half and half between both professions," he said.

And when it comes to customer interactions, not everything is about managing complaints.

Chua recalled one memorable encounter with a customer in his 80s, whom he served a fresh durian to.

"He ate it and froze in silence when he savoured the entire fruit,” Chua recounted, saying that the elderly customer then thanked him for evoking memories from the past as it had been difficult for him to find this particular flavour.

As for his own favourite? Chua isn't picky.

"Any durians that are fresh, I will devour it," he said, before later jokingly adding:

"I eat durians for breakfast, lunch and dinner. My blood sugar is good even though I eat [it] everyday for three meals."