“Good AM, Bros & Sists”: Surviving (and loving) the Singaporean family group chat

If you’ve ever been trapped in a whirlwind of “Good morning!” GIFs, endless dinner polls, and unsolicited health tips, you’ll know the true chaos of a typical Singaporean family WhatsApp group chat. As someone who’s survived nearly 30 years (and counting) of these daily digital marathons, here’s a look at the familiar scenario — and our best tips on how to keep your sanity, your phone battery, and your family ties intact. 

1. Meet the cast of characters

Every family group has its regulars:

The forwarding auntie: She’s the reason your phone storage is full. If there’s a new miracle cure, a “must-watch” video, or a warning about eating watermelon at night, she’s already forwarded it — many times.

The sticker king: He replies to every message with a sticker, sometimes relevant, often not. You announce your promotion, and he sends a dancing banana.

The silent lurker: Never says a word, but at gatherings knows all the latest family gossip. You suspect they have a spreadsheet.

The guilt tripper: “Why you never reply? You die already ah?”

The (not-so-fresh) meme dealer: Always has a meme to share, even if it’s been circulating since 2017.

The tech-challenged elder: Accidentally creates new groups, sends voice notes of background TV noise, and sometimes types in ALL CAPS BECAUSE CANNOT SEE SMALL LETTERS.

The foodie uncle: Every meal is a photoshoot. You know what they had for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all snacks in between.

2. The daily rituals: Good morning, good night, repeat

Good morning: Sparkly boomer stickers and half-eaten breakfasts

Every morning around the family group starts to pop off with greetings and tips for the day. Good morning greetings (sent alongside a glittery rose GIF, maybe a Bible verse or Chinese proverb) followed by excitable greetings back with pictures of a half-eaten breakfast and a health tip of the day (“Drink more water, weather very hot!) — all before 7.10am.

Good afternoon: Lunch pics and chain messages 

By lunchtime, the group is a buffet of food pics — homemade bee hoon, office ban mian, or a close-up of a half-eaten curry puff. Every meal is a chance to flex culinary skills or complain about hawker centre price hikes. After lunch, the chain messages begin. “Forward this to 10 people for good luck!” or “Free radicals cause damage to mitochondria in muscle cells! Stop using your phones!” No one knows where these come from, or whatever those “science-y” terms mean, but nevertheless, JUST FORWARD. 

Good evening: The “Where to eat?” debate (for that family dinner that doesn’t happen until 2 weeks later)

When your aunties and uncles are squeezed onto the MRT after a long day, you can bet the family WhatsApp group is about to light up with suggestions for dinner plans for next week.

It always starts innocently. Buffet? Too expensive. Mookata is too oily. Tze char seems like the obvious and safe choice, ‘til someone declares how boring it is. Before you know it, the chat explodes. Opinions fly, suggestions get shot down, and someone inevitably asks, “Who’s driving ah?”. Two hours and 134 messages later, you’re still nowhere closer to a decision. 

“Can we just decide next week?” The fed up younger cousin asks. Nobody replies to them.

3. The great family poll

They’re basically Family GE2025, but held entirely on WhatsApp. Campaign season kicks off when someone asks, “Who wants to go Genting?” Suddenly, manifestos are flying: Auntie Susan lobbies hard for buffet, Uncle Lim pushes for cruise, and Cousin Jason just wants to stay home and play games.

Voting day arrives:

• 11 votes for Genting (all with enthusiastic thumbs-up emojis)
• 2 votes against (citing “too crowded” and “got work”)
• 5 “anything lah” (the swing voters who decide nothing)
• 1 “I see first” (the fence-sitter waiting for exit polls)
• 3 silent abstainers who never reply but somehow always turn up anyway

After much debate, recounting, and a few “pls reply ASAP” reminders from the group admin, the results are in. But just like any real election, expect a last-minute plot twist — Grandma vetoes everything and announces, “We eat at my house, I cook porridge.” Poll closed, democracy Singapore-style. 

4. The “seen but never reply” dilemma

You read the message, you laugh, you put your phone down. Minutes later: “Eh, why you never reply?” Sometimes, the group admin will even tag you: “@You, you see my message or not?”

Pro tip: Always have a stash of generic replies ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.

How to survive Singaporean family WhatsApp groups

Never question the chain message: You can try arguing over fake news, sending links, or even threatening to POFMA (Protection from Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Act) them, but somehow, it never works.
Aunties and uncles will just say, “I forward only, up to you to believe or not!” In the end, you waste half an hour typing out explanations, and they still forward the next one anyway — usually with even more conviction.

Sometimes, it’s easier (and better for family harmony) to just drop a 🙏 and let it go.

Mute is your best friend: No one needs 187 notifications before breakfast.

Master the art of the generic reply: “Wah!” “So cute!” “Yum!”— these will get you through most situations.

Set boundaries: It’s okay to say, “Sorry, busy!” (even if you’re just binge-watching Netflix).

Never volunteer for anything: Unless you want to be in charge of the next family outing.

Birthday greetings are mandatory: Even if you don’t remember who “Ah Boy” is. Just send a 🙏 and move on. 

Embrace the chaos: One day, you’ll miss the daily GIFs and unsolicited advice

They may just be old people flooding your phone with messages now, but the truth is, they won’t always be around. When that day comes, you’ll find yourself wishing for just one more “Good morning!” GIF or another forwarded health tip, no matter how repetitive or silly it seemed at the time. So cherish these moments — even the noisy, naggy ones — because they’re really just reminders of the love and presence of family.