If you, like me, was born in the eighties, than a trip to the shopping mall as a kid must have seemed a surreal experience, a blast to the senses. The cool air-con breeze that greeted you as you walked through the automatic sliding doors, the shiny floors and bright lights, the smell of French fries and ice cream, the array of food, clothes and entertainment on offer.

Growing up, I loved going to the mall, not only because it meant I could spend my ‘hard-earned’ Hari Raya collection money on a new toy or a book (I did read occasionally), but also because it was my own personal escape, my urban getaway when the stresses of primary school got to me. Spend a few dollars here, a buck there. I guess you could say I invented retail therapy. Of course I always got a earful from my parents for it. But it was worth it.

I only bring this up because I’ve noticed how quickly shopping malls have mushroomed all over our tiny island. According to Wikipedia, the figure stands at 83. Incidentally, that’s 13 more than the number of mosques in Singapore, but that’s another story for another time. A decade ago you had to take a bus or the train to get to the mall, which was usually, located somewhere central like Orchard or Bugis. Now, almost every neighbourhood has at least one.

To the naked eye, this rise in the number of shopping malls, some within walking distance from our homes, bodes well for you and me. Mom too busy at work to cook today? A quick trip to that new classy eatery will fix that. Kids bored at home with nothing to do? Forget TV, let’s head to the movies. However, the social ills coupled with our country’s new pastime, if anybody cares enough to look, are scary.

For families, the shopping mall has become a sanctuary. In this era of dual-income families, parents now merge paying their bills, shopping for groceries and having meals all into one fun-filled weekend at the mall. On the surface, this practice may appear to bring the family closer. It may even do, but the often unfortunate by-product of spending family time amidst huge retail chains and flashy advertising?

For starters, children begin associating shopping with happiness at an early age. Eavesdrop if you must on any conversation between children to prove this. Gone are days when kids used to talk about superheroes, hobbies or cartoons. Kids these days compare mobile phones and handheld gaming consoles. Ever seen a boy without a PSP? I haven’t.

Granted, this materialistic trend among the younglings may be the result of too much television or too little parental control. But I’m tempted to think the prevalence of these shopping malls has something to do with it. Brands have become accessible, now more than ever. Kids have become more brand-conscious. It’s simple really. What you can’t see, you won’t want to buy. Kids these days see everything.

The mall has also become the hangout of choice for teenagers, ambling aimlessly from one shop to the next. Where once videogame arcades banned the entry of students in uniform, today’s corporate businesses welcome them with open arms, offering discounts on two indulgences no teenager can do without: movies and fast food. Ironically, many libraries today are situated near shopping malls (some even within them!), ensuring that no effort is spared in reaching out for the teenage dollar.

What is even more worrying is that many parents, yes I’m sorry to blame them, appear nonchalant at their children’s emotional attachment to the mall and all things material. In fact, many encourage such behaviour, offering money and other incentives in exchange for good grades and self-discipline. Modern mothers have taken to dressing up their little tots in fashionable clothes, complete with sunglasses and dyed hair. What role that of modern fathers? To keep making money for his wife and kids, and to keep quiet while he’s at it.

How does the Muslim family living in 21^st century Singapore attempt to rectify this phenomenon? Assuming they want real changes, parents would have to plan events away from the clutches of commercialism and consumerism. Nature reserves, museums and libraries (preferably those far from malls) provide ample respite to the stresses of modern life. Paint, read, exercise, swim, learn about history, trek or join an archery course.

Parents also need to start educating their children on how to manage money. They have to stand firm when their children ask for something unnecessary and they should never keep quiet seeing their children fritter away their savings. The idea that you can motivate your child by engaging the shopaholic within him has never worked and never will. Instead, parents need to show through real-life actions that a simple, frugal life like the one our Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) lived is possible and commendable.

Furthermore, the quest for knowledge, so eloquently expounded by the Prophet (pbuh) when he said, “Seek knowledge from the cradle to the grave” should not be equated as a means of gaining greater material wealth. It should be seen as a means to help others, to level the playing field between rich and poor and to create a more harmonious and just society. Unfortunately, this concept is lost on many educators and parents today.

Ultimately, the role of the shopping mall needs to be minimized before more damage is done. It has become too important, too central to our daily lives that the lifestyle it sells, namely that you need (insert long list of products here) to be happy is gladly accepted by the masses, Muslims included.

Grow a spine. Read a book. Throw away your television. Look at photos of your family and loved ones. Pray. And ask yourself what’s really important.

Written by:
Shahnawaz Abdul Hamid
nawaz_clan@hotmail.com
The writer is currently ”studying” mechanical engineering at a university, and hopes to one day hang his degree from the wall of his very own sarabat stall. He often is accused of being unambitious, especially when asked on what his dream job is, which he sincerely answers as any job which is a 20-minute bicycle ride from his home in Sengkang. He sometimes cracks his recently-shaved bald head wondering why getting married in Singapore has to be such a costly affair, why doing a hundred – albeit meaningless - things a day is now a national pastime, why sleeping before 10 is considered early. He is a big fan of Magiclean wipers, cheese prata and sunsets.

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