In this episode of NPR's Book of the Day, the discussion centers on Yu-Mei Balasingamchow's novel about a woman who flees Singapore after committing a crime and lives under multiple aliases to evade capture. The conversation explores how the protagonist's constant use of false names leads to a profound disconnection from her authentic self, and how she eventually uses a podcast under a pseudonym to reclaim her voice and identity.
Balasingamchow discusses the role of language and accent as identity markers, particularly how Singlish connects Singaporeans to their homeland. The episode also examines the experience of exile and displacement, drawing parallels between the protagonist and another character who has lived away from Singapore for decades. Throughout, the conversation addresses the persistent emotional connection that displaced individuals maintain with their homeland, regardless of physical distance or time spent away.

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The protagonist of Yu-Mei Balasingamchow's story narrates under the name Ophir but also adopts multiple aliases like Huiying, Hailey, and Cara while fleeing Singapore. The reader never learns her real name, which underscores her profound disconnection from her authentic self. After escaping Singapore following a crime, she lives under assumed identities to avoid capture. Early in the story, she confides, "I just wish someone would call me by my real name." After nearly a decade on the run, the loss of her original identity becomes palpable as she drifts further from her core self.
Balasingamchow explores how names gain significant emotional weight when stripped away. For Ophir, a former voice actor who was drawn into a money mule scheme by her best friend, the loss of her real name brings poignant grief. Only much later, after erasing her past self through constant flight and aliases, does she confront both her crime and the complete dissolution of her authentic identity.
Balasingamchow describes Singlish as a Creole language unique to Singapore, naturally absorbed by anyone living there and serving as a significant identity marker. After going on the run, the protagonist suppresses her Singaporean accent and any use of Singlish, recognizing these vocal traits would easily reveal her origins. Balasingamchow notes that while the character believes this strategy is necessary for survival, she fails to realize she is cutting herself off from a vital part of herself.
Balasingamchow emphasizes that the way people speak—their vocal tone and natural voice—represents an essential piece of their identity. The character's need for genuine self-expression leads her to create a hidden podcast under the pseudonym Ophir, allowing her to speak freely while maintaining anonymity. Through this podcast, she reclaims her vocal presence and rediscovers a piece of her true self.
In Balasingamchow's novel, the Doctor has lived in exile for about forty years due to political reasons. When Ophir learns about the Doctor's story, she realizes it is possible to leave one's country and truly never return—a future she had never fully imagined for herself. This realization creates sympathy between Ophir and the Doctor, as Ophir foresees that her own flight from Singapore may prevent any chance of homecoming.
Despite physical distance and passing years, Balasingamchow explains that displaced individuals maintain an ongoing, complex relationship with their homeland. These characters are always glancing back at Singapore, emotionally engaged and eager to know what is happening there, with today's technologies making it easier than ever to remain tethered to their home country.
Balasingamchow describes Singapore as "tiny, crowded, sweaty, glorious," capturing both the challenges and the persistent sense of belonging it offers. She notes that while Singapore is small, it is densely packed with cultural richness and political complexity that profoundly shape the identities of its people. In her work, she endeavors to show the vast range of Singaporean experiences, acknowledging that both those who stay and those who depart maintain unique yet interconnected relationships to their homeland. For Singaporeans who leave, identity remains strongly anchored in shared language, accent, and lived experience, demonstrating that the sense of belonging transcends physical boundaries and persists through personal stories and collective memory.
1-Page Summary
The protagonist, who narrates under the name Ophir, also adopts aliases like Huiying, Hailey, Cara, and others while fleeing Singapore. Despite this rotation of names, the reader never learns her real name. This deliberate omission underscores her profound disconnection from her authentic self. When Ophir escapes Singapore after committing a crime, she abandons her real identity to avoid capture, living under assumed identities. Over time, her yearning intensifies for someone to simply acknowledge her true name. Early in the story, she confides, "I just wish someone would call me by my real name." After nearly a decade on the run, the loss of her original self becomes palpable, as she drifts further away from her core identity while crossing continents.
Names, though usually mundane, gain significant emotional weight when a person is deprived of them against their will. For Ophir, the stripping away of her real name brings about ...
Identity and Self-Loss Through Aliases
Language serves as a crucial marker of identity for the protagonist of Yu-Mei Balasingamchow’s story. One of the things she most misses about home is the language—a loss that runs deep both culturally and personally.
Singlish, described by Balasingamchow as a Creole language unique to Singapore, is naturally absorbed by anyone living there. It acts as a significant linguistic identity marker for Singaporeans. Singlish is not a formal language, but a widely used vernacular that becomes almost inherent for residents—absorbed “with the water.”
After going on the run, the protagonist, Rufia, decides to disguise her voice and completely suppress her Singaporean accent and any use of Singlish. She recognizes that these vocal traits are too recognizable and would easily give away her identity as a Singaporean. In making this choice, Rufia abandons her natural way of speaking and intentionally distances herself from her cultural identity. Balasingamchow notes that, although Rufia believes this strategy is necessary for survival, she fails to realize that by denying herself her natural voice and vernacular, she is cutting herself off from a vital part of herself.
Balasingamchow emphasizes that the way people speak—their vocal tone, physical method of making sounds, and use of their natural voice—represents an honest and essential piece of their identity. This vocal self, es ...
Language and Voice as Markers of Identity
Yu-Mei Balasingamchow describes how exile shapes the lives of Singaporean women abroad in her novel. The Doctor, a character Ophir meets, has lived in exile for about forty years due to political reasons. Her long absence symbolizes the permanence often involved in leaving one’s homeland for good. When Ophir hears about the Doctor’s story and the circumstances that led her to leave, she realizes that it is possible for someone to leave their country and truly never be able to return—a future she had never fully imagined for herself before. This realization creates a certain sympathy and resonance between Ophir and the Doctor, even though they have little else in common. Like the Doctor, Ophir foresees that her own flight from Singapore may prevent any chance of homecoming, illustrating the deep sense of loss and the harsh reality that accompanies exile.
Despite the physical distance and passing years, displaced individuals like Ophir, the Doctor, and other Singaporean women in the story maintain an ongoing, complex relationship ...
Exile: Leaving Home, Unable to Return
Yu-Mei Balasingamchow describes Singapore as "tiny, crowded, sweaty, glorious," capturing both the challenges of life in the city-state and the persistent sense of belonging it offers its inhabitants and former residents. Ayesha Rascoe highlights how, despite being a place many cannot locate on a map, Singapore remains a powerful emotional anchor for those tied to it. Balasingamchow notes that while Singapore is small, it is densely packed with cultural richness and political complexity, making it impossible to capture entirely within a single narrative.
Balasingamchow explains that Singapore’s deep cultural and political intricacies profoundly shape the identities of its people. The nation’s diversity is reflected in the many choices open to its residents—whether to remain in Singapore or to leave in search of something different. In her work, she endeavors to show the vast range of Singaporean experiences, acknowledging that both those who stay and those who depart maintain unique yet interconnected relationships to their homeland.
By calling Singapore "tiny, crowded, sweaty, glorious," Balasingamchow evokes the physical and emotional landscape of the country. The description encompasses the everyday challenges, intense environment, and exceptional vibrancy that mark Singaporean life. For both those who continue to live on the island and those who have left, this intensity forges a lasting connection, making Singapore an enduring emotional home.
Balasingamchow emphasizes that within this small, multicultural nation, there exists a range of possibilities. People make diverse life decisions shaped by Singapore’s parti ...
Singapore as a Significant Emotional Home for the Displaced
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