When my wife and I first learned about the Centralised Cooling System (CCS) for Tengah from the HDB e-brochures, we were excited. At HDB Hub, we were invited to the second floor, where CCS was introduced to us in greater detail. We bought into the dream of eco-friendliness and a promised 30% cost saving. With HDB, SP Services (linked to Temasek Holdings and GIC), and Daikin—an established air-conditioning company—behind the project, we believed nothing could go wrong. How naïve we were.
Swallowing the Bitter Pill of Ugly Trunking
When news broke about the bulky, unsightly trunking snaking through the living room, we were disappointed. Still, we accepted it, trusting the CCS was worth the trade-off for an energy-efficient and cost-saving cooling system. This decision was the first misstep on a long and painful journey.
Trouble at the Start
After we received our keys, we noticed the CCS trunking had been poorly installed. The Building Service Centre (BSC) told us SP Services was responsible for the touch-up work. I made arrangements for them to fix it, sacrificing my time travelling over to open the new empty house just for this.
When we finally moved in, condensation issues emerged, turning excitement into exasperation. Despite giving SP multiple opportunities to fix the problem, they consistently failed us. Worse, communication was an absolute disaster.
Workers, Missteps, and Miscommunication
The first team of workers arrived clueless. They thought their job was to touch up the trunking’s surface, not address condensation. Language barriers compounded the frustration. Their foreign accents and frustrated faces were intimidating for my wife and me, who are both small-sized.
When the supervisor finally arrived, I mentioned PU injection—a solution many neighbours had received early on. Instead, he dismissed it, citing “SOP” and opting to “upgrade” the black insulator. He left without instructions on the next steps, stress testing, or whether SP would waive the chilled water bill during testing.
Our home was left in a mess. My attempts to follow up with SP led to confusion: one officer claimed Daikin had to inform SP about waiving the bill. Neither side communicated properly.
Chaos, Cleaning, and Unending Visits
On one Friday, I bumped into the supervisor by chance. He apologised, pleaded for another chance and arranged a visit for next Tuesday, but on Saturday, his team unexpectedly called to visit my flat within around 30 minutes. I declined, explaining I was out. They didn’t confirm the time with me and showed up unannounced.
Each visit, including examination of trunking and small talks, turned into an ordeal. We had to pack away belongings, including clothing and kitchenware (for repair work). Without knowing when repairs would end, dinner plans were disrupted as we weren’t even sure we should defrost the meal—we often resorted to late meals far from home since the nearby Plantation Plaza wasn’t ready.
Post-repair cleanups were equally exhausting—sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, and wiping dust off power sockets, skirtings, and handles. Once, workers stayed until nearly 11 pm, adding to our frustration and exhaustion.
Under Pressure: Intimidation and Insults
After the fifth failed repair, SP sent a group of five to my house to convince me not to cancel CCS. Their presence felt overwhelming and intimidating. The conversation dragged on for 1.5 hours, but I held firm. Still, SP continued to call and visit, wearing down my resolve.
After weeks of delays, I learned—shockingly—that I needed to email the Tengah CCS support team directly to cancel. Their team leader had previously promised to handle this, but clearly, I’d been misled.
When I sent the email, the response was insultingly generic. They didn’t even address me by name, using my email address instead. Nobody signed off, showcasing a lack of professionalism for such a large organisation.
A Catastrophic Failure Waiting to Happen
tengah ccs waterfall
On 31 October 2024, at nearly midnight, the CCS failed spectacularly. Water poured from the living room FCU like a waterfall. My photography equipment, worth nearly $10,000, was nearby. The leak threatened not only my livelihood but also my safety—it could have caused an electrical shock or a fire.
SP sent workers again to pester us into allowing further repairs as if they were saints and I was the devil for rejecting them to violate me, but they still offered no guarantee of a final solution. It was an unbearable situation.
The Human Side of the Nightmare
Throughout this ordeal, my wife and I treated SP workers with kindness. We cooked dinner for a Bangladeshi worker, knowing he’d finish late. I offered drinks to their team, believing they were doing their best despite management’s incompetence.
With supervisors and SP’s so-called “engagement team”, I was courteous and understanding. Even when they dodged questions or changed topics, I didn’t expose them. After every failed repair, I expressed concern for them and their workers, hoping their management wouldn’t punish them. In hindsight, my kindness was exploited.
Our Marriage Plan was Disrupted
Despite five attempts to fix the CCS, SP couldn’t guarantee a permanent solution. Their approach seemed like guesswork. Exhausted, we gave up. This decision wasn’t easy; the chaos had already derailed our lives.
We had dreamed of hosting our ROM at home, but with the mess, we opted for a simple ceremony at Fort Canning Park. My work suffered too. As a photographer, I couldn’t set up my home studio or focus on projects. Once, I accepted a booking for a studio shoot after SP reassured me that repairs would resolve the issue. But condensation returned, and I almost broke down as it would affect my hard-earned reputation.
Despite their failures, SP refused a full refund, offering a “goodwill” 50%—the same compensation given to users with no issues.
A Heavy Toll on My Health and Dreams
The CCS nightmare didn’t just disrupt my home; it invaded my mind and body. Ever since the first signs of condensation, I’ve struggled with sleepless nights. Worry gnawed at me, keeping me awake as I imagined the cascading effects on my work and livelihood. Even after dozing off, I’d often wake up in the middle of the night, consumed by frustration and anxiety, unable to fall asleep again.
The stress didn’t stop there. I’ve always had a weak stomach, and my TCM physicians repeatedly advised me to avoid stress to manage it. But this ordeal worsened my condition, pushing me to seek acupuncture sessions despite my fear of needles. Once, the experience was so overwhelming that I nearly fainted, and I haven’t been able to go back since.
Years ago, when my wife and I discussed starting a family, she made it clear I needed a stable income first. I’d pinned my hopes on the new house to set up a home photo studio, seeing it as the key to increasing and stabilising my monthly earnings. But this CCS issue derailed everything. Not only was I unable to set up my studio, but the emotional toll left me mentally drained, making it difficult even to respond to job inquiries. Time has been slipping through our fingers—my wife isn’t young anymore, and her health is fragile. This delay has robbed us of the chance to have children, a dream that now feels forever out of reach.
The weight of these compounded losses has been immeasurable. What was meant to be our fresh start has instead become a source of endless regret.
A Plea for Accountability
SP failed to deliver a working CCS from the start. Their repeated failures, poor communication, and lack of accountability caused immense stress and disruption.
This isn’t just a personal struggle—it’s a cautionary tale. I hope my experience pushes for greater accountability and better service standards from SP Services. No one should endure what we have.