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$52K monthly rental for clinic at HDB site, eh siao boh????
- Thread starter jurongwest
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We need high rental so that government can return cee pee fff to us
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Ho Ching and her beta male cuck husband Lee Fuck Loong must be thrown into jail for enriching themselves at the expense of local born citizens and return back all CPF and GST money in full!
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Tiagong , what Mdm said "ahh si wu li yu " ...
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She is really senile already. Time to pban her from making any postings.
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Tiagong , Ong intends to
brush up on Cost Benefit Analysis etc deh woh .
Mdm won this time
brush up on Cost Benefit Analysis etc deh woh .
Mdm won this time
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HDB uses taxpayer money to build flats & shops ... they have social mission to provide low cost affordable place.
HDB shops should not use bidding system, instead to be same as BTO ballot system
No Renter can have 2 shops at the same time, only one shop. Rental rate is fixed by HDB & the ballot system apply
First time applicant should have priority over ex-Renter, only Citizen can qualify to apply for HDB shop, no PR, no commercial company
HDB shops should not use bidding system, instead to be same as BTO ballot system
No Renter can have 2 shops at the same time, only one shop. Rental rate is fixed by HDB & the ballot system apply
First time applicant should have priority over ex-Renter, only Citizen can qualify to apply for HDB shop, no PR, no commercial company
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Sounds nice but the PAP regime has never operated that way. The only things the PAP 'socializes' are costs and liabilities.
It's an abusive relationship, and the 65% is addicted to it.
..too many loop holes
There is almost Zero Enforcement on,
1. HBD Flats being sub-letted out, and even Bed Spaces Rented Out
2. Sex Shops in Many HDB Estates, disguised as, "Spas"
3. Dirty, Smelly Toilets at them Expensive HDB CoffeeShops
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If Ho Jinx wants to comment on public issues, then her husband must quit in the government.
Her unwarranted comment suggests that her husband disagrees with the Health minister.
Her unwarranted comment suggests that her husband disagrees with the Health minister.
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- Joined
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FB
Ravi Philemon
.
, — ’
Mr Ong Ye Kung says he is “dismayed.” That’s like being surprised the durian smells after you opened the box.
Dismayed that a clinic in Tampines was awarded at a rental of S$52,188 a month. Dismayed that such a figure — more than S$626,000 a year — could drive up the cost of healthcare and undo the work of keeping primary care affordable.
But the real question is: Why is he surprised?
This rent wasn’t set by a private landlord or a speculative developer. It was the result of a government-run tender, awarded by the Housing & Development Board, a statutory board under his own government. And the clinic wasn’t some luxury concierge service — it’s a ground-floor GP practice, in a public housing estate built to serve families.
, — , , .
Now, let's be clear. The state owns the land. The HDB manages the lease. And the Ministry of Health is trying — on paper — to keep primary care affordable.
But the new Price-Quality Model (PQM), where rent is weighted at 30% and 'quality' at 70%, is likely to benefit corporatised GP chains — and here’s why:
These large healthcare groups are not just better positioned — they are custom-built for this model.
They can put together polished, professional bids filled with the right buzzwords and backed by an internal team of analysts and strategists. They know how to speak the language of integrated care, digital transformation, and multidisciplinary service offerings — because they already run these systems as part of a vertically integrated business model.
They can afford to take on higher rents. Not because the care is cheaper or more efficient — but because the cost gets absorbed across multiple branches, departments, and income streams.
They have scale. They have capital. They have control over every step of the care pathway — from initial GP consultation, to diagnostics, to pharmacy, to specialist referral — all conveniently in-house.
This isn’t necessarily about better care. It’s about business advantage. And it means that PQM, while dressed up as a progressive policy reform, may actually entrench the position of corporate players who prioritise profitability over the community.
.
I mean, given his statement that the new bidding system will be piloted with a larger 100sqm unit — twice the size of normal clinics — aimed at supporting multi-disciplinary care and new models of care. Such configurations naturally favour larger corporate groups that already have the capacity and staffing to operate at that scale.
In Singapore today, many GPs are no longer solo family doctors. They’re salaried employees in private healthcare conglomerates with 40 or more branches, in-house diagnostic labs, and investment obligations.
These companies have the admin teams to handle tenders. They have the financial buffers to absorb rent. They have the brand recognition to compete in new estates. And they have business models that link patients to preferred specialists, lab tests, and medication sales.
That’s not a conspiracy — that’s just how capitalism works. When profitability becomes the main measure of success, decisions start tilting towards whoever can scale faster, dominate markets, and package their services better. The PQM model didn’t break the system — it codified its logic.
One prominent example is Raffles Medical Group, which now operates over 80 multi-disciplinary clinics in Singapore. With roots tracing back to just two clinics in 1976, RMG has grown into a major player in general practice and corporate healthcare. Much of its revenue comes from Singapore operations, with services ranging from GP consultations to in-house diagnostics and referrals. While this expansion reflects strategic growth and capacity, it also marks a shift towards standardised, vertically integrated healthcare delivery.
By contrast, GPs like Dr Tan Poh Kiang, who served the Bukit Ho Swee community for decades through his solo practice, represent the other end of the spectrum — where long-term relationships, neighbourhood familiarity, and personal conviction guided care. In today’s system, it’s these kinds of practices that find themselves increasingly edged out.
When the government continues to design policies that reward scalability and polish over grounded, patient-first models, it reveals a tilt — whether intentional or not — towards big business in the name of efficiency.
’ - .
But when the state awards public space using criteria that only large players can realistically meet, we’re not just accepting that outcome — we’re institutionalising it.
There is a cost to such institutionalising and it is not paid by the shareholders. Not the landlords. Not the bid-winning clinic operators.
It's the people who pay, and the people who pay are:
Patients. They may be subject to more frequent referrals, less continuity of care, and shorter consultations — all calibrated to balance the books.
Healthcare workers. They bear the strain of lean staffing and target-driven operations in clinics run like franchises.
Younger doctors. They are increasingly left with only two options: work for a corporate group, or take on the financial and administrative burden of starting their own clinic — often an impossible choice in today’s rental environment.
’ : . , -, — — ’ .
This isn’t about one clinic. It’s about the future of public healthcare.
The $52,000 rent in Tampines was a signal — not a fluke. It showed that the current system, if left unchanged (not necessarily only in the primary healthcare sector), will keep selecting for scale, speed, and profit.
PQM doesn’t change the logic. It just shifts the percentages.
The real question is this:
" — — ?
, - , - - , ?"
If it’s the latter — and it should be — then we must stop treating tenders like competitions for market share. We must evaluate based on service to the community, continuity of care, and the doctor’s capacity to build trusted relationships, not just business plans. And we must actively level the playing field for solo and small-group practices to apply and succeed.
Towards that, there should be a ceiling or cap on tender rent for essential services. Set an upper limit on how much a clinic space in HDB estates can cost to ensure accessibility isn't undermined by market bidding.
Another viable alternative worth serious consideration is the cooperative model. Healthcare cooperatives — owned and run by healthcare professionals or communities themselves — could offer a way to prioritise patient care over profit, while pooling resources to overcome the high barriers to entry that solo GPs face.
With adequate state support, including capped rents and technical assistance, such cooperatives could thrive in the heartlands, offering continuity, affordability, and accountability without the pressures of shareholder returns.
The awarding of the clinic space in Tampines for over $52,000 a month cast such a spotlight on our healthcare system that even the Health Minister had to speak out.
And yet, when this story first broke, much of the media coverage focused on the dollar amount and the identity of the winning bidder.
Take Mothership’s coverage, for instance. It reported the S$52,188 rental as a standalone fact — no analysis of how the figure was reached, no scrutiny of the tender process, and no investigation into whether the system was serving the public good.
What’s more telling is what wasn’t done. The outlet didn’t ask the Health Minister for comment. It didn’t ask if the government saw this price as a problem. There were no quotes from residents, no views from healthcare workers, and no attempt to place the story in the broader context of healthcare affordability.
The Minister only responded after public disquiet surfaced online — and even then, not through a press conference or official statement, but via his personal Facebook post. The media picked it up from there, not the other way around.
This is the deeper concern: when journalism merely echoes what officials say, rather than pressing them to say it in the first place, the public is left without accountability.
In that kind of media environment, even facts become a smokescreen for the status quo.
To me, what’s most worrying is that journalism here often treats systemic issues as footnotes instead of frontlines. It doesn’t just leave the public without accountability — it often fails to even inform adequately. Key questions go unasked. Power goes unchallenged. We’re given headlines and numbers, but no sense of the deeper structural problems driving them. When that becomes the norm, we’re not being served — we’re being managed.
Some people have asked why I’ve been writing more long-form pieces since the last General Election. This is why. One of the clearest conclusions I took away from GE2025 is this: the media has failed.
It amplifies what’s sensational. It lifts what’s convenient. It leans — too often — towards the incumbent, sometimes even justifying what should be scrutinised. And I don’t want to fight that with clickbait or outrage. I want to meet it with clarity. If it takes 2,000 words to explain something properly, then that’s what it takes.
. , — .
It’s not the absence of information that keeps us in the dark. It’s the selective excess. We’re flooded with news bites, statistics, government infographics, and media stories that seem to say everything — but often mean nothing. The blinding light comes from every direction: official narratives, sponsored content, polished messaging. It dazzles, it overwhelms, it numbs.
When we are blinded by too much light, we stop seeing clearly — not because there’s nothing to see, but because everything shines at once, demanding attention, obscuring meaning.
When every issue is framed as progress, few stop to ask: progress for whom? In this landscape, the truth doesn’t get buried in shadows — it gets scorched under relentless, curated brightness.
So, this is the bottom line. If the healthcare space here is to be treated as a public good — a system that values care over capital — we need more than new models and tender scorecards. We need a government willing to govern with values, not just spreadsheets. A system that prioritises access over revenue. A country where healthcare space is not just a commodity.
Because when land is treated like gold, and care is treated like a product, it’s not just clinics we lose.
It’s the soul of public health.
#RedDotUnited #SGCompass #jointhemovement #BeTheMovement
Ravi Philemon
.
, — ’
Mr Ong Ye Kung says he is “dismayed.” That’s like being surprised the durian smells after you opened the box.
Dismayed that a clinic in Tampines was awarded at a rental of S$52,188 a month. Dismayed that such a figure — more than S$626,000 a year — could drive up the cost of healthcare and undo the work of keeping primary care affordable.
But the real question is: Why is he surprised?
This rent wasn’t set by a private landlord or a speculative developer. It was the result of a government-run tender, awarded by the Housing & Development Board, a statutory board under his own government. And the clinic wasn’t some luxury concierge service — it’s a ground-floor GP practice, in a public housing estate built to serve families.
, — , , .
Now, let's be clear. The state owns the land. The HDB manages the lease. And the Ministry of Health is trying — on paper — to keep primary care affordable.
But the new Price-Quality Model (PQM), where rent is weighted at 30% and 'quality' at 70%, is likely to benefit corporatised GP chains — and here’s why:
These large healthcare groups are not just better positioned — they are custom-built for this model.
They can put together polished, professional bids filled with the right buzzwords and backed by an internal team of analysts and strategists. They know how to speak the language of integrated care, digital transformation, and multidisciplinary service offerings — because they already run these systems as part of a vertically integrated business model.
They can afford to take on higher rents. Not because the care is cheaper or more efficient — but because the cost gets absorbed across multiple branches, departments, and income streams.
They have scale. They have capital. They have control over every step of the care pathway — from initial GP consultation, to diagnostics, to pharmacy, to specialist referral — all conveniently in-house.
This isn’t necessarily about better care. It’s about business advantage. And it means that PQM, while dressed up as a progressive policy reform, may actually entrench the position of corporate players who prioritise profitability over the community.
.
I mean, given his statement that the new bidding system will be piloted with a larger 100sqm unit — twice the size of normal clinics — aimed at supporting multi-disciplinary care and new models of care. Such configurations naturally favour larger corporate groups that already have the capacity and staffing to operate at that scale.
In Singapore today, many GPs are no longer solo family doctors. They’re salaried employees in private healthcare conglomerates with 40 or more branches, in-house diagnostic labs, and investment obligations.
These companies have the admin teams to handle tenders. They have the financial buffers to absorb rent. They have the brand recognition to compete in new estates. And they have business models that link patients to preferred specialists, lab tests, and medication sales.
That’s not a conspiracy — that’s just how capitalism works. When profitability becomes the main measure of success, decisions start tilting towards whoever can scale faster, dominate markets, and package their services better. The PQM model didn’t break the system — it codified its logic.
One prominent example is Raffles Medical Group, which now operates over 80 multi-disciplinary clinics in Singapore. With roots tracing back to just two clinics in 1976, RMG has grown into a major player in general practice and corporate healthcare. Much of its revenue comes from Singapore operations, with services ranging from GP consultations to in-house diagnostics and referrals. While this expansion reflects strategic growth and capacity, it also marks a shift towards standardised, vertically integrated healthcare delivery.
By contrast, GPs like Dr Tan Poh Kiang, who served the Bukit Ho Swee community for decades through his solo practice, represent the other end of the spectrum — where long-term relationships, neighbourhood familiarity, and personal conviction guided care. In today’s system, it’s these kinds of practices that find themselves increasingly edged out.
When the government continues to design policies that reward scalability and polish over grounded, patient-first models, it reveals a tilt — whether intentional or not — towards big business in the name of efficiency.
’ - .
But when the state awards public space using criteria that only large players can realistically meet, we’re not just accepting that outcome — we’re institutionalising it.
There is a cost to such institutionalising and it is not paid by the shareholders. Not the landlords. Not the bid-winning clinic operators.
It's the people who pay, and the people who pay are:
Patients. They may be subject to more frequent referrals, less continuity of care, and shorter consultations — all calibrated to balance the books.
Healthcare workers. They bear the strain of lean staffing and target-driven operations in clinics run like franchises.
Younger doctors. They are increasingly left with only two options: work for a corporate group, or take on the financial and administrative burden of starting their own clinic — often an impossible choice in today’s rental environment.
’ : . , -, — — ’ .
This isn’t about one clinic. It’s about the future of public healthcare.
The $52,000 rent in Tampines was a signal — not a fluke. It showed that the current system, if left unchanged (not necessarily only in the primary healthcare sector), will keep selecting for scale, speed, and profit.
PQM doesn’t change the logic. It just shifts the percentages.
The real question is this:
" — — ?
, - , - - , ?"
If it’s the latter — and it should be — then we must stop treating tenders like competitions for market share. We must evaluate based on service to the community, continuity of care, and the doctor’s capacity to build trusted relationships, not just business plans. And we must actively level the playing field for solo and small-group practices to apply and succeed.
Towards that, there should be a ceiling or cap on tender rent for essential services. Set an upper limit on how much a clinic space in HDB estates can cost to ensure accessibility isn't undermined by market bidding.
Another viable alternative worth serious consideration is the cooperative model. Healthcare cooperatives — owned and run by healthcare professionals or communities themselves — could offer a way to prioritise patient care over profit, while pooling resources to overcome the high barriers to entry that solo GPs face.
With adequate state support, including capped rents and technical assistance, such cooperatives could thrive in the heartlands, offering continuity, affordability, and accountability without the pressures of shareholder returns.
The awarding of the clinic space in Tampines for over $52,000 a month cast such a spotlight on our healthcare system that even the Health Minister had to speak out.
And yet, when this story first broke, much of the media coverage focused on the dollar amount and the identity of the winning bidder.
Take Mothership’s coverage, for instance. It reported the S$52,188 rental as a standalone fact — no analysis of how the figure was reached, no scrutiny of the tender process, and no investigation into whether the system was serving the public good.
What’s more telling is what wasn’t done. The outlet didn’t ask the Health Minister for comment. It didn’t ask if the government saw this price as a problem. There were no quotes from residents, no views from healthcare workers, and no attempt to place the story in the broader context of healthcare affordability.
The Minister only responded after public disquiet surfaced online — and even then, not through a press conference or official statement, but via his personal Facebook post. The media picked it up from there, not the other way around.
This is the deeper concern: when journalism merely echoes what officials say, rather than pressing them to say it in the first place, the public is left without accountability.
In that kind of media environment, even facts become a smokescreen for the status quo.
To me, what’s most worrying is that journalism here often treats systemic issues as footnotes instead of frontlines. It doesn’t just leave the public without accountability — it often fails to even inform adequately. Key questions go unasked. Power goes unchallenged. We’re given headlines and numbers, but no sense of the deeper structural problems driving them. When that becomes the norm, we’re not being served — we’re being managed.
Some people have asked why I’ve been writing more long-form pieces since the last General Election. This is why. One of the clearest conclusions I took away from GE2025 is this: the media has failed.
It amplifies what’s sensational. It lifts what’s convenient. It leans — too often — towards the incumbent, sometimes even justifying what should be scrutinised. And I don’t want to fight that with clickbait or outrage. I want to meet it with clarity. If it takes 2,000 words to explain something properly, then that’s what it takes.
. , — .
It’s not the absence of information that keeps us in the dark. It’s the selective excess. We’re flooded with news bites, statistics, government infographics, and media stories that seem to say everything — but often mean nothing. The blinding light comes from every direction: official narratives, sponsored content, polished messaging. It dazzles, it overwhelms, it numbs.
When we are blinded by too much light, we stop seeing clearly — not because there’s nothing to see, but because everything shines at once, demanding attention, obscuring meaning.
When every issue is framed as progress, few stop to ask: progress for whom? In this landscape, the truth doesn’t get buried in shadows — it gets scorched under relentless, curated brightness.
So, this is the bottom line. If the healthcare space here is to be treated as a public good — a system that values care over capital — we need more than new models and tender scorecards. We need a government willing to govern with values, not just spreadsheets. A system that prioritises access over revenue. A country where healthcare space is not just a commodity.
Because when land is treated like gold, and care is treated like a product, it’s not just clinics we lose.
It’s the soul of public health.
#RedDotUnited #SGCompass #jointhemovement #BeTheMovement
- Joined
- Jun 13, 2024
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- 602
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- 43
all long we all already knew whore jinx is the one pulling the strings.This is how you know Guitar Wong (and arguably his predecessor too) is a puppet.
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