The charity It's Raining Raincoats can date itself to a single rainstorm. More than a decade ago, lawyer Dipa Swaminathan was driving home when she saw two migrant workers trying to stay dry under a sheet of cardboard. She pulled over, gave them a lift and her number. One, Murugan, later called: in debt and mistreated, he had been charged with attempted suicide. She helped clear the charges and the loans, and did not stop there.
In 2025 the organisation she went on to found marked ten years. Its first premise was modest, Swaminathan, 53, recalls, that Singaporeans share what they had with the workers who build the country. A few friends pooled money and goods; word spread; it became a movement.
The backdrop a decade ago was indifference. "They build our homes, our roads, our MRT stations, yet for a long time, they were seen but not truly acknowledged," she told CNA Women. Most migrant workers here do physically demanding jobs in construction, shipyards and process industries, and come largely from India, Bangladesh, China and Myanmar. Even the vocabulary drew a line, she noted, between "migrant workers" and the "expatriates" who also moved for work but into white-collar roles.
Over the years the charity has run iftar gatherings during Ramadan, worked with mosques, temples and churches to provide meals, handed out cash for costs like doctor visits, and coordinated gifts of pre-loved fridges, washing machines, bicycles and portable air-conditioners. But Swaminathan was clear that handouts alone do not shift attitudes, so it built events, family days, shared meals, festive celebrations, where locals and workers could meet as equals. Companies joined with programmes such as "Manager for a Day" and "Makan with Migrant Brothers," and the charity began publishing workers' own stories in their own words.
The pandemic was a turning point, as dormitory conditions pushed workers' welfare into Parliament and public view. "It showed us that Singaporeans and people living here do care," she said. Five years on, she stresses that attention has to be sustained, because hard problems remain.
She points first to transport, with workers still ferried in lorries and deaths still occurring. From her conversations, some earn as little as S$18 a day for demanding, dangerous labour, and are not always paid on time. She describes painters working dozens of storeys up, their lives hanging on a single rope: "Who's ensuring they don't die while painting the places we live in?" Because these are policy matters, It's Raining Raincoats works with groups such as Transient Workers Count Too and the Migrant Workers' Centre to raise them with Members of Parliament.
From a handful of friends, the charity now has two full-time staff and is backed by hundreds of regular volunteers and thousands of occasional ones. Its tenth-anniversary plans included a gala lunch with a fashion show featuring the workers themselves. "Some of these issues seem bleak," Swaminathan said, "but the key is to keep going." What she chooses to see is how far things have come: "Now, many people in Singapore show up for the people who built, and continue to build, our country."