In a country where silence can be safer than dissent, and where political certainty often overshadows real conversation, Red Dot United (RDU) stepped onto the field at Holland-Bukit Timah with more than just speeches—they brought stories. Stories of struggle, defiance, and the relentless hope that Singapore can be more inclusive, more just, and more human.
Liyana Dhamirah: Drawing the line on hate
Few moments in politics cut deeper than when hate rears its head—not because it is unexpected, but because it is still tolerated. Liyana Dhamirah, a mother, a former homeless Singaporean, and now a candidate for RDU, made a bold choice: she filed a police report after receiving racist and misogynistic comments on her press conference videos.
This wasn’t an act of vengeance. It was an act of integrity.
“I refused to do nothing,” Liyana declared, her voice unwavering. Her decision, spurred by countless Singaporeans urging her to take a stand, revealed a painful truth: bigotry still exists in our society, and it thrives when good people remain silent. She didn’t just challenge the unknown individuals behind hateful words—she called out the silence of current PAP leaders like Grace Fu and Rahayu Mahzam, who, she argued, failed to condemn such abuse. In doing so, she made it clear: leadership is not only about service—it’s about moral courage.
David Foo: Chemistry of change
Dr. David Foo opened the evening with quiet strength and scientific clarity. A PhD and entrepreneur, Foo has spent his life asking one fundamental question: How do we make this country better for everyone—not just the privileged few?
At 61, Foo is not the typical fresh-faced political candidate. But it is precisely his experience that gives weight to his words. In a country grappling with one of the world’s lowest fertility rates, Foo’s message was sobering: you cannot fix a nation’s demographic crisis with baby bonuses while ignoring its housing stress, job insecurity, and skyrocketing living costs.
“Singaporeans are not unwilling to have children,” he said. “They’re unwilling to bring them into a future they cannot afford.”
Foo’s speech wasn’t just about data—it was about listening to the residents of Nee Soon who told him their children were planning to leave Singapore, not out of betrayal, but from despair. In addressing these conversations with sincerity, Foo reminded us that nation-building is not about GDP charts—it is about dignity, hope, and a sense of belonging.
Sharad Kumar: The storms we can’t see
If David Foo represents the seasoned voice of reason, then Sharad Kumar is its youthful counterpart—the idealist with a scalpel of truth. At just 25, Sharad delivered one of the most poignant speeches of the night, cutting through political varnish with disarming honesty.
“I am still getting to know Holland-Bukit Timah,” he confessed early on. But rather than hiding this, he leaned into it, offering the one thing often missing in politics—genuine humility.
Sharad’s message struck a nerve with young Singaporeans. He spoke of “covered walkways, but no shelter from life’s storms”, capturing the irony of a society that builds impressive infrastructure but leaves emotional and economic burdens unaddressed. He tackled the empty platitudes about “character building” and “exposure” pointing out that exposure doesn’t pay hospital bills, or wedding deposits, or help young people afford their first homes.
And then, he turned to the darkness many refuse to acknowledge: mental health.
“One in three Singaporeans aged 15 to 35 report severe symptoms of depression, anxiety, or stress,” he said. “We are not just statistics. We are a generation that feels abandoned.”
Ravi Philemon: Walking the full journey
Ravi Philemon, the secretary-general of RDU, closed the evening not with bombast, but with belief—belief in the people who shared the stage with him, and in the power of standing up even without institutional support. His address was not a speech. It was a testimony.
He recalled meeting Liyana in 2009 when she was homeless, and walking with Nizar through his struggles after being retrenched. “That’s how I walk with people,” he said. “And I will walk the full journey with you.”
For Ravi, this campaign isn’t just about opposition for its own sake. It’s about restoring balance. “Everything may be legal, everything may be constitutional—but is everything principled?” he asked. It was a quiet rebuke to a system that sometimes seems more concerned with defending power than protecting people.
In what might be the most telling contrast of the night, Ravi reminded Singaporeans that Red Dot United gave up the easier fight in Jalan Kayu to the Workers’ Party—not out of political calculation, but because it was in the people’s best interest.
A collective voice, a collective choice
This night wasn’t just a rally. It was an intervention. At a time when Singaporeans are increasingly sceptical of both promises and politicians, the RDU team offered something far more valuable than a manifesto: their lived truth.
From Liyana’s quiet defiance in the face of hate, to Sharad’s appeal for his generation, to David Foo’s systemic diagnosis, and Ravi’s personal conviction—Red Dot United has emerged not just as a party, but as a mirror. A mirror to our broken promises, our unspoken fears, and our deepest hopes.
In this election, the question before us is not just which party to vote for. It’s whether we believe that fairness, dignity, and honesty still have a place in our national life.
If we do, then perhaps—just perhaps—this red dot can shine a little brighter again.