Meet the new Banana Sisters, stars of a 10-minute skit by the Central Provident Fund (CPF) Board. They are joined by a boisterous taxi-driver and haughty tai-tai (socialite) wannabe. A coffee shop assistant, looking like a female version of comic TV character Phua Chu Kang with a big mole and curly wig, completes the motley crew.

The Banana Sisters are CPF Board officers who educate the other characters on the Board’s Workfare Income Supplement (WIS) scheme. Introduced in 2007, the scheme provides incentives for older and low-wage workers to stay employed by supplementing their income and CPF contributions.

Now, they want to target elderly and low income workers, many of whom cannot read the papers, through this kind of getai-style shows.

“I don’t think they like the usual boring briefings [in a classroom setting]. Hence we need to get the message across in simple and subtle ways, usually through entertainment,” says senior manager Maple Chang, one of the Banana Sisters.

Here is a taste of the action:
Banana Sisters (with megawatt smiles and saccharine sweet voices): “Welcome to CPF Board! We’re the Banana Sisters *wave feather boas*! How can we help you?”

Coffee shop assistant (in bored tone): “Hey Bananas. My hubby drives a taxi and I serve coffee. He wants to know why I have WIS but he doesn’t.”

Ah Jiao of the Banana Sisters: “Oh… (coquettishly). That is because you are employed. Your boss gives you CPF every month, that’s how we know that you are working. Hence we will auto[matically] qualify you for WIS. But Uncle, you drive taxi right? That means you are a self-employed person. Unlike your wife, you need to tell us that you have worked and you need to contribute to your CPF.”

Support For Innovation

But first, the team had to overcome some mental blocks. They feared the Board’s upper management might reject having the Banana Sisters as representatives for dressing flamboyantly and singing in Hokkien.

“There’s still a stigma attached to getai, so we were also a little concerned about how the public would see the CPF Board after watching the skit,” explains Ms Chang, 30.

But this fear proved unfounded, and instead they were given courage to innovate. “My CEO (Mr Liew Heng San) even joked about changing the uniform of our Customer Service Officers to that of the Banana Sisters!” shares Ms Lai.

Another issue: dialect. But their deputy CEO, Soh Chin Heng, surprised them by telling them to “speak and act like the public, so that we can echo the ground sentiments,” says Ms Chang. “He even told us that the taxi-driver is too compliant [to the government] and encouraged us to make the character ‘fiercer’. If the taxi-driver is so pro-government, the audience would ‘switch off ’... we don’t have to be so politically correct and give motherhood statements all the time.”

Mr Maverick Guo, 28, the department’s assistant manager and lead producer of the skit, explains: “We want to reach out to uncles and aunties who would be more comfortable with vernacular languages.” In one scene, the taxi-driver expresses disbelief in Mandarin and Hokkien that the government would give money to the poor.

And so it proved that the use of dialect struck a chord with the public.

Mr Tan Chwee Poh, 54, a resident who watched the show in Ang Mo Kio, says: “I think that this [the skit] is a good way to publicise a government policy. It is good that the characters spoke in Hokkien which helps more people to understand [what the policy is about].”

Team Synergy

The team camaraderie is palpable. Asked if they had difficulty getting into character, most said no as they have acted before in other shows at the workplace.

Also, they were assigned roles similar to their own personalities, says Ms Chang, who teases Ms Iris Sim, 27, a senior executive and the other Banana Sister: “Iris can act sultry very well, in a way that makes guys sit up. It’s her forte!”

Executive officer Joseph Lau, 41, adds: “I’m always asked to be the taxi-driver as I use a lot of Hokkien in my daily speech. Because that is how I am like in person.”

Executive officer Corina Yong, who plays the snooty tai-tai, says: “I don’t know why they sabo[tage] me [to act this role]. I’m not haolian (showy)!”, and Mr Lau interjects playfully: “But she’s jin (very) haolian!”

The cast have fun onstage and off, and made the roles their own. Manager Angela Kwek, who plays the coffee shop assistant, suggested the mole and wig. Ms Yong, 37, got her own props, such as the shiny gold rings, to complement her outfit.

Some performers literally ‘broke a leg’. Ms Kwek, 27, who fractured her ankle in July, had to get another colleague to replace her, and was nursing her ankle at the show in Ang Mo Kio. Mr Lau aggravated his slipped disc injury during rehearsals but carried on despite the pain.

The whole department chipped in as ‘backstage crew’. A team of six designed props such as the mock-up taxi and billboard featuring the WIS scheme’s hotline number.

Ms Lai adds: “Even colleagues not involved in the skit helped by covering the workload of those who are, without complaints. Everyone in the department was part of the project.”