SINGAPORE: On an October evening in Punggol, coloured lights pulse across bumper cars as children squeal with delight. An elderly woman sits in a spinning ride, popcorn bucket in hand.
For four weeks, this sprawling carnival with Taiwan-themed food stalls, game booths, bouncy castles and glittering rides transformed an ordinary field next to Punggol Fire Station into a world of wonder.
Then, overnight, it vanished. The wooden boards were stacked, the metal frames dismantled, the trampled grass returfed. All that remained were a few forgotten planks that hinted at the revelry that had filled the space.
This is the reality of Singapore's funfair industry, which is dominated by two companies: household name Uncle Ringo and second-generation operator J'Kids Amusement.
Both came close to collapse during COVID-19. Several years on, they are now grappling with the question of whether childhood magic can survive in a landscape where costs keep climbing.
A clown-themed swing ride at a field in Sumang, Punggol, in December 2025. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
A elephant-themed ride at a J'Kids carnival in Punggol in October 2025. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
J'Kids boss Eddy Goh grew up around amusement parks and launched his company at the age of 31, with S$105,000 (US$81,000) from the sale of his five-room flat.
That stake has grown into an operation with 30 to 40 amusement rides, over 60 inflatables and about 100 game stalls and four warehouses costing S$30,000 monthly.
When COVID-19 struck in 2020, he almost closed the company. Social distancing rules and the circuit breaker effectively killed his industry overnight.
Instead, he pivoted – he brought in portable toilets for foreign workers, transported beds and cabinets, and did whatever odd jobs his trucks and cranes could handle. The revenue was not enough to cover his expenses, but it kept his longtime staff employed.
Today, profits have nearly returned to pre-COVID levels – a six-figure sum yearly, with lulls and boom periods, supporting 25 full-time staff members. About 60 per cent of revenue comes from events such as corporate bookings and family days, with the rest from equipment rentals and individual travelling carnivals.
But Mr Goh operates on a financial tightrope. Children get bored quickly when they see the same ride, but banks will not finance amusement ride purchases, so every acquisition requires cash upfront, he said.
Mr Goh's latest – 15 bumper cars that came with a toy building – cost S$650,000. His crown jewel, a dazzling double-storey carousel from Italy, set him back over half a million dollars.
"Whatever money I make, the next moment I invest in machinery again," he said.
Second-generation carnival ride operator Eddy Goh. (Photo: CNA/Wallace Woon)
Online, some customers baulk at J'Kids' pricing: S$8 for 10 minutes in a ball pit, S$10 for 15 minutes on a bouncy castle and S$2 per arcade game. But Mr Goh points to the rising costs of each funfair.
"I remember when I first started off with S$3 rides, an atrium space cost S$2,000 a week," he said. "Now one week of atrium space costs more than S$15,000."
Mr Lee Woon Chiang, the 72-year-old face of Uncle Ringo and a pioneer in the world of amusement rides and funfairs in Singapore, shares these frustrations.
His office, cluttered with old photographs, tells the story of his glory days – when he organised grand funfairs with Ferris wheels, swing carousels and pendulum rides in Woodlands, Bishan and Hougang.
Those days are gone. Large spaces have disappeared or become prohibitively expensive. Mr Lee has scrapped big rides because warehouses cost too much. Some equipment sits idle because he lacks the paperwork for Building and Construction Authority licensing.
Corporate family days have declined since COVID-19 and carnivals for events like school anniversaries have slowed.
To top it off, veteran workers have retired, and young people do not want to enter the industry, he said.
Mr Lee Woon Chiang, 72, a pioneer in the local amusement ride and funfair scene. (Photo: CNA/Wallace Woon)
Yet both operators refuse to give up. Mr Lee, who intended to retire but stayed to rebuild the business after the pandemic, is exploring new directions: circuses, musicals, perhaps even giving retired musician friends a stage to perform.
J’Kids has also added frills to update classic rides. A simple revolving tea-cup ride now features coloured balls shooting upwards for children to catch with iridescent nets.
"There is always a future for (funfairs). Maybe in a different form, not in the big scale, because there's not much land left," said Mr Lee.
"All kids are the same," he added. "Nothing modern. Only the environment is modern. Their feeling is the same – when they go on a bumper car, they will laugh."
Mr Goh agrees. "Kids will still like funfairs, because parents don't want them always playing (with the) phone, and parents will still want to bring them (here)," he said.
Business academics told CNA the industry faces structural pressures but also pockets of opportunity.
Associate Professor Lau Kong Cheen, head of the marketing programme at the Singapore University of Social Sciences, said land scarcity will push rentals higher even as the customer base shrinks with the falling birth rate.
Operators should go beyond traditional rides and bumper cars to appeal to young adults, including Gen Z consumers who are willing to pay for experiences, he said.
Bumper cars, boat inflatables and game stalls at a funfair in Sumang in December 2025. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
Professor Sharon Ng of Nanyang Technological University said the structural cost pressures – land constraints, high wages, strict safety standards – are not going away.
But the deputy dean of Nanyang Business School sees room for improvement through modular rides that reduce setup time, better inventory planning and digital ticketing strategies that increase per-capita spending without simply raising prices.
"Funfairs can position themselves as partners rather than mere tenants. Instead of paying a flat rental fee, they can pitch co-branded events, revenue-sharing models and footfall-boosting programming," she suggested.
"Smaller, modular pop-ups in neighbourhood centres or integrated with pasar malams (night markets) also spread risk and make the cost more manageable."
Singapore Management University's Associate Professor Seshan Ramaswami calls it "a risky business" that could still generate steady cash flow if designed and marketed well, particularly through long-term contracts.
The industry's fate may ultimately depend on collaboration between public and commercial sectors, Assoc Prof Lau said.
"If this business becomes extinct in the future, it would not be because these funfairs have lost their relevance, but rather the cost structure has become too prohibitively high for the business to continue."
Some excellent traditional food and beverage businesses have closed in recent years – not from lack of customers, but because operational costs exceeded what customers would pay, he added.
Patrons at a ball-toss game booth. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
Enhanced aesthetics for social media, curated themes, tie-ins with local culture and attention to safety and comfort can also make the difference between one-time visitors and loyal returnees, Prof Ng said.
"Parents also appreciate shade, rest areas and good crowd management. These small touches shape whether they return or recommend it to others."
The biggest advantage of the industry is nostalgia for adults and delight for kids, she said.
"The days of big open-field funfairs might be fading, but smaller, well-designed, partnership-driven experiences can absolutely thrive," she added.
"If operators see themselves not just as ride providers, but as experiential entertainment partners, they'll stay relevant. The nostalgia and charm are still there; it just needs to be matched with today's expectations around quality, safety and experience."
Continue reading...
For four weeks, this sprawling carnival with Taiwan-themed food stalls, game booths, bouncy castles and glittering rides transformed an ordinary field next to Punggol Fire Station into a world of wonder.
Then, overnight, it vanished. The wooden boards were stacked, the metal frames dismantled, the trampled grass returfed. All that remained were a few forgotten planks that hinted at the revelry that had filled the space.
This is the reality of Singapore's funfair industry, which is dominated by two companies: household name Uncle Ringo and second-generation operator J'Kids Amusement.
Both came close to collapse during COVID-19. Several years on, they are now grappling with the question of whether childhood magic can survive in a landscape where costs keep climbing.
A clown-themed swing ride at a field in Sumang, Punggol, in December 2025. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
A elephant-themed ride at a J'Kids carnival in Punggol in October 2025. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
SURVIVING THE PANDEMIC
J'Kids boss Eddy Goh grew up around amusement parks and launched his company at the age of 31, with S$105,000 (US$81,000) from the sale of his five-room flat.
That stake has grown into an operation with 30 to 40 amusement rides, over 60 inflatables and about 100 game stalls and four warehouses costing S$30,000 monthly.
When COVID-19 struck in 2020, he almost closed the company. Social distancing rules and the circuit breaker effectively killed his industry overnight.
Instead, he pivoted – he brought in portable toilets for foreign workers, transported beds and cabinets, and did whatever odd jobs his trucks and cranes could handle. The revenue was not enough to cover his expenses, but it kept his longtime staff employed.
Today, profits have nearly returned to pre-COVID levels – a six-figure sum yearly, with lulls and boom periods, supporting 25 full-time staff members. About 60 per cent of revenue comes from events such as corporate bookings and family days, with the rest from equipment rentals and individual travelling carnivals.
But Mr Goh operates on a financial tightrope. Children get bored quickly when they see the same ride, but banks will not finance amusement ride purchases, so every acquisition requires cash upfront, he said.
Mr Goh's latest – 15 bumper cars that came with a toy building – cost S$650,000. His crown jewel, a dazzling double-storey carousel from Italy, set him back over half a million dollars.
"Whatever money I make, the next moment I invest in machinery again," he said.
Second-generation carnival ride operator Eddy Goh. (Photo: CNA/Wallace Woon)
THE PRICE SQUEEZE
Online, some customers baulk at J'Kids' pricing: S$8 for 10 minutes in a ball pit, S$10 for 15 minutes on a bouncy castle and S$2 per arcade game. But Mr Goh points to the rising costs of each funfair.
"I remember when I first started off with S$3 rides, an atrium space cost S$2,000 a week," he said. "Now one week of atrium space costs more than S$15,000."
Mr Lee Woon Chiang, the 72-year-old face of Uncle Ringo and a pioneer in the world of amusement rides and funfairs in Singapore, shares these frustrations.
His office, cluttered with old photographs, tells the story of his glory days – when he organised grand funfairs with Ferris wheels, swing carousels and pendulum rides in Woodlands, Bishan and Hougang.
Those days are gone. Large spaces have disappeared or become prohibitively expensive. Mr Lee has scrapped big rides because warehouses cost too much. Some equipment sits idle because he lacks the paperwork for Building and Construction Authority licensing.
Corporate family days have declined since COVID-19 and carnivals for events like school anniversaries have slowed.
To top it off, veteran workers have retired, and young people do not want to enter the industry, he said.
Mr Lee Woon Chiang, 72, a pioneer in the local amusement ride and funfair scene. (Photo: CNA/Wallace Woon)
Yet both operators refuse to give up. Mr Lee, who intended to retire but stayed to rebuild the business after the pandemic, is exploring new directions: circuses, musicals, perhaps even giving retired musician friends a stage to perform.
J’Kids has also added frills to update classic rides. A simple revolving tea-cup ride now features coloured balls shooting upwards for children to catch with iridescent nets.
"There is always a future for (funfairs). Maybe in a different form, not in the big scale, because there's not much land left," said Mr Lee.
"All kids are the same," he added. "Nothing modern. Only the environment is modern. Their feeling is the same – when they go on a bumper car, they will laugh."
Mr Goh agrees. "Kids will still like funfairs, because parents don't want them always playing (with the) phone, and parents will still want to bring them (here)," he said.
FINDING A PATH FORWARD
Business academics told CNA the industry faces structural pressures but also pockets of opportunity.
Associate Professor Lau Kong Cheen, head of the marketing programme at the Singapore University of Social Sciences, said land scarcity will push rentals higher even as the customer base shrinks with the falling birth rate.
Operators should go beyond traditional rides and bumper cars to appeal to young adults, including Gen Z consumers who are willing to pay for experiences, he said.
Bumper cars, boat inflatables and game stalls at a funfair in Sumang in December 2025. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
Professor Sharon Ng of Nanyang Technological University said the structural cost pressures – land constraints, high wages, strict safety standards – are not going away.
But the deputy dean of Nanyang Business School sees room for improvement through modular rides that reduce setup time, better inventory planning and digital ticketing strategies that increase per-capita spending without simply raising prices.
"Funfairs can position themselves as partners rather than mere tenants. Instead of paying a flat rental fee, they can pitch co-branded events, revenue-sharing models and footfall-boosting programming," she suggested.
"Smaller, modular pop-ups in neighbourhood centres or integrated with pasar malams (night markets) also spread risk and make the cost more manageable."
Singapore Management University's Associate Professor Seshan Ramaswami calls it "a risky business" that could still generate steady cash flow if designed and marketed well, particularly through long-term contracts.
The industry's fate may ultimately depend on collaboration between public and commercial sectors, Assoc Prof Lau said.
"If this business becomes extinct in the future, it would not be because these funfairs have lost their relevance, but rather the cost structure has become too prohibitively high for the business to continue."
Some excellent traditional food and beverage businesses have closed in recent years – not from lack of customers, but because operational costs exceeded what customers would pay, he added.
Patrons at a ball-toss game booth. (Photo: CNA/Lydia Lam)
Enhanced aesthetics for social media, curated themes, tie-ins with local culture and attention to safety and comfort can also make the difference between one-time visitors and loyal returnees, Prof Ng said.
"Parents also appreciate shade, rest areas and good crowd management. These small touches shape whether they return or recommend it to others."
The biggest advantage of the industry is nostalgia for adults and delight for kids, she said.
"The days of big open-field funfairs might be fading, but smaller, well-designed, partnership-driven experiences can absolutely thrive," she added.
"If operators see themselves not just as ride providers, but as experiential entertainment partners, they'll stay relevant. The nostalgia and charm are still there; it just needs to be matched with today's expectations around quality, safety and experience."
Continue reading...