The Places We Tend To: Naji & Aqylla



the places 

we tend to :
Naji & Aqylla


 

 


 

 

 

 

In the first chapter of Places We Tend To, sisters Naji and Aqylla lead us through the rhythms of Bugis and Arab Street — a neighbourhood that has become a quiet anchor in their lives. For them, food is not just sustenance but memory: a thread back to childhood meals with their parents, a ritual of returning to familiar tables, and a way of sharing their culture with friends who pass through Singapore.


 

 

 



 



How would you describe the feeling of being in the places you both chose?

 


N&A: It’s always a feeling of comfort — knowing we’ll leave satisfied. We’re huge food lovers, and a good meal always makes us happy. A bad one feels like wasted calories, leaving a bad mood that lingers far too long.

 

 

 
Naji wears the viscose ribbed tank top in black, paired with the parachute shorts with exposed pockets in midnight. Aqylla wears the crinkled back cape tunic top in khaki, paired with the relaxed fit pleated trousers in butter.

 



Was there a particular moment or memory that made this place significant?

 


N&A: Many of our favourite spots were first introduced to us by our parents, who are also passionate about food. There isn’t one defining moment, but rather a series of meals together. Those family lunches and dinners remain our fondest memories.

 

  



What time of day feels right for this space?

 


N&A: An early or late lunch. It’s the best way to avoid the crowds, and it leaves the rest of the day open for wandering nearby.

 

 

 

 
Naji wears the viscose ribbed tank top in black, paired with the parachute shorts with exposed pockets in midnight. Aqylla wears the crinkled back cape tunic top in khaki, paired with the relaxed fit pleated trousers in butter.


 





Are there small rituals you share here — a certain route, a favourite drink, a routine that belongs to this place?

 



N&A: Around Bugis and Arab Street, our days often follow the same rhythm. Lunch is usually at one of our staples — Hajah Maimunah, Mother Dough, Warong Pariaman, or Zamzam. Afterwards, our family always makes a stop at Tarik for something sweet, and we often take home a box of curry puffs (the sardine ones are so good but spicy!) for an evening snack. With drinks in hand, we’ll wander the streets, window-shopping at favourites like Outside for outdoor gear or Ratianah for their beautiful kebayas.

 

 

 

 
Aqylla wears the crinkled back cape tunic top in khaki, paired with the relaxed fit pleated trousers in butter.

 

  



How does the space feel when you’re here together, versus when you come alone?

 


N&A: When we go on our own, the visits are quick and efficient — we already know exactly what we want to eat and where we want to go. Together with family, the pace slows. Our parents often take the lead in ordering, sometimes choosing dishes we might never think to try ourselves. Those unexpected plates get passed around the table, and we decide if they deserve a place in our usual rotation.

 

  



What does this place reveal about your lives right now? Has its meaning shifted over time?

 


N&A: Definitely. Growing up, we didn’t always appreciate Malay cuisine — when our dad cooked it for dinner, we weren’t particularly excited. But as we’ve grown older, our tastes have shifted. Now we can easily name our favourite nasi padang and Malay dishes, and the exact places we’d go for each one. With time, we’ve also come to value the effort and craft behind these recipes — the layers of work and care that go into perfecting them.


 

Naji wears the viscose ribbed tank top in black, paired with the parachute shorts with exposed pockets in midnight. 

 





Why was this the place you both agreed on — what makes it meaningful to you together?

 



N&A:  We have a long list of favourites, and we rank them in our heads from “best” to “good.” Choosing wasn’t easy. Many of the places we love require you to arrive early or risk everything being sold out. The hours can be unpredictable, too. Our unspoken rule: come early, or you might miss out. Knowing these rhythms — “the drill” — is part of what makes these places meaningful to us. 

 



Singapore can feel fast and fleeting. What makes this place feel different?

 


N&A: Consistency. They don’t have to reinvent themselves. The food is always good, always the same. That kind of steadiness is rare now, when so many businesses feel the need to constantly refresh to stay relevant.


 
Naji wears the viscose ribbed tank top in black, paired with the parachute shorts with exposed pockets in midnight. Aqylla wears the crinkled back cape tunic top in khaki, paired with the relaxed fit pleated trousers in butter.

 





If someone else came here, what would you want them to notice?

 



N&A: The people who gather here, the dishes that are served, the way they’re presented. There’s a raw authenticity to it — no frills, just honest, excellent food.

 





Does this place say something about your lives in the city — a place you return to, again and again?

 



N&A: Yes. Even with new restaurants opening all the time, we still return. These food places are part of Singapore’s heritage. If they were ever to close, we wouldn’t just lose a meal — we’d lose the stories and histories tied to them. Cities change, but some things feel irreplaceable.

 


 
Naji wears the viscose ribbed tank top in black, paired with the parachute shorts with exposed pockets in midnight. Aqylla wears the crinkled back cape tunic top in khaki, paired with the relaxed fit pleated trousers in butter.

 





Are there other places you share together — a trail of spaces that feel like yours?

 



N&A: Yes, Joo Chiat is one of our favourites. And other pockets around the east — places like Cafe Mariam, which we visit purely for the food. Most of the spaces we gravitate to are in the east, and almost always centred around food.

 

 

 

Photography Isabell Hansen

Styling Daryll Alexius Yeo

Interviewed by Shenali Wijesinghe

Featuring Naji and Aqylla

Special Thanks Bessie YeSarah Kelly Ng

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