Teo Heng KTV Founder: Our Outlets Likely To Reopen In 1-2 Weeks, But No Singing Allowed

Initially, Jackson had prepared S$2mil worth of funds for his family-run biz to tide over the pandemic. “I figured this would be over in four months, like SARS,” he recalls. Various government grants saved Teo Heng from completely bleeding out, but Jackson reckons his company will still lose “close to S$2mil” of its own funds by the next month.

Jackson’s younger sister Jean Teo, 54, divulges that the chain is now on its last leg for reserves. The Teo Heng director, who oversees its business development alongside her brother, says: “It costs $600k a month to run the business, and we are left with about three to four months of reserves to sustain ourselves. We can’t hold off the landlords forever, even though they have been helpful and reduced our rent.”

To stretch its reserves, Teo Heng is planning to reopen with a new concept. While clubs like Zouk are now holding spin classes and screening movies in their unused venue, Teo Heng has applied to the government to reopen as a snack bar-cum-working/study space. Jackson says, “If the government approves, we are likely to reopen in one to two weeks.”

There’s a catch to this, though. There will be no karaoke singing allowed, as Teo Heng can’t operate as a karaoke lounge… till January (we will get to this very exciting bit later).

But meanwhile, customers can rent the rooms as a recreational venue. Per Teo Heng’s liberal policy, one can tapow food in, watch music videos on the karaoke system, nap, work, study, or even bring musical instruments to jam in the room. “They can bring anything, except drugs and alcohol,” laughs Jackson. Board games will also be provided.

If you run out of food and drinks in the room, there will be a snack bar set up at the reception selling finger food. “No cooking, just microwaveable food. People who work late can come here to grab a bite,” Jackson says.

Prices are still in the midst of being revised. By pivoting, Jean says she hopes to keep Teo Heng afloat. “The revenue won’t be like before Covid-19, but it lessens our burden and helps us tide through this,” she shares. “We hope we can receive feedback from people on what they want to do here.”

Come January, Teo Heng’s outlet at Tampines West Community Club will also join a pilot programme by the Singapore government, which allows a limited number of nightlife establishments to reopen under certain criteria. This includes adhering to strict hygiene and safe distancing standards.

In a widely-reported move, Teo Heng had initially declined to join the programme, which also stipulates that customers have to undergo a Covid-19 swab test before their karaoke sessions.

But now, Jean tells 8days.sg that Teo Heng is “joining the programme after all”. She admits, “I was rather impulsive during the meeting with MTI. When I heard about the swab, I thought about whether we could absorb the cost. The swab test is $50, and we charge $8 a room. I said to the minister, ‘Sir, it’s not that we don’t want to participate. We can’t afford it’. It’s not worth it for people to spend this much just to come and sing for a few hours.”

What changed her mind was a sense of social responsibility, which runs strong in her family. She explains: “If we don’t join, I’ve no chance to prove that it’s safe to sing karaoke. We make it a Singaporean effort to participate in this.”

She is currently sourcing for swab tests at lower prices. “Hopefully it will cost $10 to $20 each and the customers will think it’s okay to pay. It’s very hard for us to absorb a $50 swab test. [Our teenage customers] can’t afford it either. Who will bear the cost of the swab?” she points out. “If we pass the cost to the customers, karaoke will become a luxury in the future. It goes against our company policy of having everyone come here and sing.”

If the pilot is successful, Jean is planning to install “pop-up swab test stations” at Teo Heng’s outlets in the future. This reduces the hassle of customers having to look for a clinic to do the test.

Another concern about karaoke singing in the time of Covid-19 is the possibility of transmission through sharing microphones. Jackson, who also distributes karaoke equipment, came up with a solution: sell customers their own personal microphones.

He recently introduced a professional-grade microphone under his own brand called Wasuka ('I like' in Hokkien). And its model name? CV19 Pro. Each mic costs $150, and comes with a $150 Teo Heng credit voucher which can be used when the KTV chain reopens.

"This is like getting the mic for free," says Jackson. "People don't have to worry about mic sanitisation if they bring their own." Customers can order the mic via a WhatsApp number listed on Teo Heng's Facebook page.

In August, Teo Heng shuttered two branches permanently in Sembawang and Katong Shopping Centre. The latter was where Jackson started his KTV empire 30 years ago, first by selling karaoke equipment from Japanese brand BMB before venturing into karaoke outlets. “Business was thriving till the Circuit Breaker. We couldn’t come to an agreement [with the landlords], so we closed lah,” he says matter-of-factly. For the same reason, he is also shutting his outlet at Our Tampines Hub for good.

The Katong closure almost brought Jean to tears. The mother-of-two chokes up as she shares: “When I handed the keys to the landlord after the reinstatement, I wanted to cry. It felt like our work for the past 30 years… It was handed over together with the keys.” An emotional Jackson adds, “I felt very helpless. Our kids grew up there.”

According to Jackson, he has four steps to cope with the crushing problems brought about by the pandemic. “I accept it, face it, deal with it and let go of it. Once you understand these points, it’s easy to let go. We were all born with nothing, so why hold onto what we have so tightly?” he reasons.

Earlier in July, Teo Heng had preemptively cleared out seven of its 14 outlets. “Since we didn’t know when we could reopen, we gave our sofas away to the old folks. We also had a stockpile of canned drinks, so we gave them to orphanages and other organisations,” says Jean.

Despite the state of things, Jackson maintains a can-do outlook. He says, “If the situation doesn’t improve, we will just close all our outlets and restart again a few years later. I have my siblings and our kids to help. There’s only one condition: Teo Heng must always be a social enterprise. A lot of people know how to earn money. But what I can do for society and my family is more meaningful to me.”

Teo Heng’s prices for karaoke sessions are well-known for being wallet-friendly. Customers pay by room size, instead of being charged per head. A Large Room for 10, for instance, could cost as little as $22 for three hours during off-peak periods. Canned drinks are sold at an affordable $1 each.

But even with the low fees, Jackson crams four enormous BMB speakers into each room. “It feels like you’re singing at a concert,” he explains eagerly (we can vouch that the avid singer has a very solid baritone). “Other KTV owners said, ‘Eh, you stupid! Put four ‘trumpets’ for what?’ But do you know people hurt themselves singing too loudly if the sound system is not good?”

For going the extra mile, Jackson is left with a razor-thin profit margin. “If my biz is not at 80% capacity and above, I will definitely make a loss. But I’m okay with earning just a little to sustain, as long as we don’t lose money and we can pay our staff and rental. We never dream of raking in big bucks. And we can’t,” he says.

While there’s the extremely lucrative option of selling alcohol to make money, the Teos are adamant about keeping their business booze-free. Jackson himself had set up the first Teo Heng karaoke lounge in 1989 as a wholesome spot for youngsters to hang out. “I told them, ‘Uncle open this place for you ah, so you don’t go out drinking and smoking with your friends.’ It’s an indescribable feeling for me to see young people coming out of the karaoke rooms laughing and chattering happily.”

Till date, Teo Heng has not retrenched any of its 120 staff. Jackson shares: “Honestly, I could retrench my staff to continue living my life happily. But their livelihood is always my concern. Our staff are our ‘treasure’, and our priority is to protect their rice bowls.”

He paid his staff their full salaries and CPF contributions till funds started drying up in October. His employees then volunteered to take a pay cut. “We all took a 50 percent pay cut, ‘cos we are equal,” adds Jean. “If we can open in one to two weeks’ time, we can start paying our staff full salaries again.”

Jackson is determined to keep his “promise” of making it up to his staff for their reduced wages. “I will pay them back, even if I have to do it in installments,” he avers.

He also spoke of the overwhelming support for the struggling Teo Heng. “People offered me their supplies and help, as long as I can reopen. My friend also told me, ‘I can lend you $500k first’. He was prepared to lend me even more money. I was so touched I felt like crying,” he recalls.

Even though the current pandemic has been the worst blow his 30-year-old business suffered, Jackson reflects that Covid-19 had benefited him as well. “We matured and wisened up overnight because of this adversity. My family always say I work very fast and they can’t catch up, but now we learn to work faster,” he muses. As for Teo Heng’s future survival, he reckons, “There’s only one thing to say now: leave it up to the heavens!”

PHOTOS: ALVIN TEO/ TEO HENG KTV