The Reading Bud

Book Details:

Author: Rowena Hawkins
Release Date: June 24, 2025
Series:
Genre: Memoir, Cultural Literature, Asian Literature
Format: E-book 
Pages: 232 pages
Publisher: Earnshaw Books
Blurb:
“The two of us against all of them? How unfair for them.”
Seeker Hokuren’s big break is coming: the prince of Velles hires her to find his missing daughter. Tracking down all those lost pet cats for a pittance has finally paid off.
Together with her eager but raw elven assistant Cinna, Hokuren quickly sees the case spiral into much more than a mere missing princess. There’s an elf kidnapping scheme, magic said to no longer be possible (never trust the wizards), a long lost goddess, and a monstrous captain of the guard in the middle of it all.

Review

My Father is Police, Lah! is an absolute delight of a memoir that dances between personal anecdote, cultural snapshot, and a rich, layered historical narrative. Author Rowena Hawkins invites us into her childhood in 1960s colonial Singapore, painting each memory with wit, honesty, and a keen eye for detail that only someone deeply immersed in the literary craft can achieve.

What struck me most was the authenticity of her voice. Author Hawkins achieves that rare balance: a conversational, often hilarious tone that is deceptively light, yet beneath which runs a profound undercurrent of nostalgia, family dynamics, colonial politics, and cultural intersections. The book isn’t simply about her father, a Malay prince-turned-police officer, but about a sprawling community of characters: the richly drawn servants, eccentric neighbours, and Singapore itself, captured at a very particular moment in its evolution.

The episodic structure works beautifully, each chapter reading like a self-contained story that contributes to a greater mosaic. From run-ins with supernatural forces to harrowing moments during the racial riots, from family feuds to hilarious childhood escapades, every vignette is vibrant and alive. The prose flows with effortless clarity, peppered with cultural nuances and linguistic texture, Singlish, Malay, Cantonese, and Tamil, woven organically into the narrative.

And yet, under the humour lies a deeply affectionate portrait of a father’s dedication, a mother’s resilience, and a nation’s complex colonial legacy. Hawkins doesn’t shy away from the messy, the awkward, or the painful, and renders them with such grace and candour that you come away feeling both entertained and oddly moved.

For readers who love richly detailed memoirs, cross-cultural narratives, or intimate histories of Southeast Asia, this book is an absolute must-read. As someone who reads and edits memoirs regularly, I found myself admiring Author Hawkins’ ability to maintain both levity and depth, and her mastery in capturing the sensory world of her childhood so vividly. I highly recommend this book to all the readers not just as a memoir, but as a literary time capsule of Singapore’s multi-ethnic, post-colonial identity. This book is an absolute gem!

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