By Prajna Girish (27S06O)
Ever been dealt a hand so messed up you stop to wonder what sin you must’ve committed in your past life to deserve it?
Well, that was what happened to a hundred of us Year 5s who’d been sentenced to a year’s worth of exile before we even had the chance to commit a crime—through a singular email.
“Block G.”
Like clockwork, the next batch sent as annual sacrifice. And if you were especially unlucky?
“-7” right beside it.
A past Press article on the shrouded mystery that is the Raja Block called it an ‘urban legend’. I’m here to tell you that all the stories are true, and that it’s the stuff of nightmares.
Except you can’t sleep, since your legs hurt.
So prepare your hiking gear folks, because today we’re scaling S Rajaratnam’s memorial building—and everything that makes it the hearth (or hellfire) for every student who has been, is, or will be sorted into it.
1. Stairs, stairs, and oh look—more stairs!
Starting off strong (and admittedly a bit cliche), I think this is quite self-explanatory. Most Raja horror stories are centered around the Staircase of Doom. Walking the length of the entire JC campus everyday while lugging a schoolbag, only to be faced with seven dementors sucking the soul from your feet as you enter Azkaban is just about as appealing as it sounds. Though whispers from some alumni claim that students were allegedly permitted to use elevators back in the day, that ruling has conveniently ceased to exist. Decided to spend some extra minutes queueing for Yong Tau Fu and missed the stipulated time to head back to the summit without passing out from ligament tears or heat? Well, it was nice knowing you. (Petition to allow lift usage for Raja goers, anyone?)

2. Never-ending PITs
Skipping Assembly every Tuesday in favour of Protected Interaction Time (PIT) is a blessing for most students—extra time to rush lectures, scramble together assignments, crash out over why your friends have a different answer, the like. Not for Raja students, though. Everyone needs to reach their homerooms by 7.58, regardless of whether you have to traverse the whole world only to get there looking like a sweaty weasel. I propose for our 2.4 test during NAPFA to be replaced with running from the Marymount Gate at 7.55 and passing those who reach class before the bell.
“I want to pitch a flag into the ground like on Mount Everest.
My reward for the painful climb.”
Y5 resident (Level 7, Raja block)
Alas, the only gift we receive is being cooked alive by the sun that I swear is just six feet away.
3. 3 business days
“The MPH, canteen, it’s all so far away.
Y5 resident (Level 6, Raja block)
It’s so hard to not be late.”
The argument of Raja Block being too far from everything and anything has been made since the dawn of time—but only those who lived there to tell the tale understand how it also manifests in aspects you wouldn’t expect. Yes, 50 minute recess breaks often end up being 40 to make time for the Stairs, but tutorials also often need to be cut short when there is, say, a Science practical right after. The vice versa also applies, where students can lose upwards of 15 minutes of timetabled lessons in other parts of the school, just so we don’t have to stampede back to class. Staying back to clarify doubts with tutors in these situations? Out of the question.
Not to mention the Y5-6 PA system doesn’t work too well.
“Not sure if the building’s too far or outdated.
Y6 ex-resident (Level 7, Raja block)
The announcements just didn’t reach us.”
Which for obvious reasons, can be a problem if some part of the school catches on fire (again) and a mass evacuation is going on while those in Raja Block are chilling (suffering) in some tutorial.
Actually I take that back—the fire would probably be too lazy to climb all the way up here, anyway.
4. Aging upholstery
I’m all for preserving the artefacts of ancient civilisation—but do they have to consist of our toilets and doors? The projector is placed right in front of the front door which not only proves to be a general inconvenience when entering or leaving, especially during lessons, but isn’t even a good hiding place if you’re late on Tuesdays (tried and tested).
Additionally, some feel that temperature distribution in classrooms is uneven, for completely unbeknownst reasons. I’ll update this article after I learn thermodynamics.
“I swear the front was like Antartica
Y6 ex-resident (Level 7, Raja block)
And the back was the Sahara Desert.”
Managed to go through a toilet experience with functioning flushes, unbroken locks and wash basins with decent water pressure? Consider yourself very lucky. Seeing urinals in the female restrooms and toilet paper stuffed into holes where the door handle should be are certainly unique ways to spice up your day.
“The whole place is just weirdly funny.”
Y5 resident (Level 7, Raja block)
The above was said about the washrooms, but it also perfectly sums up the entire Raja habitat.
5. A severe lack of sustenance
Skipping meals to forgo the Y56 Canteen trek is a very common sight in Raja.
Apart from residential Hunger Games (and fighting over class snacks), the odds of meeting non-Raja creatures are never in your favour.
“There was actually no humanity in sight.”
Y6 ex-resident (Level 7, Raja block)
Heading to the Y14 Canteen Tuesday through Friday remains an option if bumping into peers isn’t a prerequisite for you—but many don’t see a point in either case. Any energy gained from a meal will all be lost by the time you drag yourself back up to class.
The perfect solution to this had been the Professor Brawn Cafe. On level One of the Raja block, it boasted everything from Mac and Cheese to Gong Cha bubble tea, which students could purchase at affordable prices before resting at the windy benches. And of course, it was shut down last year.

The chocolate bubble tea was my favourite (Only had it once, but still) / Credits: RI’s Instagram
Maslow’s hierarchy of needs places food right at the foundation of human needs. All I’m saying is maybe the Raja students should be cut some slack when we’re a bit slow to self actualise (i.e. complete tutorials) when our physiological needs have been grossly unmet.
“But they’ve got Y14 Chill,” you may think. Though I believe Y14 Chill doesn’t solve the issue of being within acceptable distance of substantial food sources, it’s undeniable that being right beside ice cream waffles is one of, if not the best, perks Raja students have.
Not to mention the post credits for the pain– in the form of free spaces and great views. On every level by the staircase is a large, empty space that filters in the perfect lighting through large rectangular windows for filming Tiktoks, taking pictures and general fooling around. If you’re on Level 7, maybe don’t take the ladder up to the roof— I don’t think that’s allowed. I also don’t think you’d want more climbing after a minimum of 12 flights of stairs.

The empty space by Level 7
And if you take a walk down the hall—with RI boarding nestled across, a playground (which we can’t use, but still), Sheares Block to our right and an expanse of green space all around, you’d be privy to a view most Raja go-ers take for granted. During the breaks we stay upstairs, my friends and I stare out from the railings outside our classroom, or the large open window outside the washrooms. Whether it’s at the fat chickens below or the clouds above—definitely an eye-cleanse from Vectors 2C.

It’s nicer in person
“As long as you don’t mind all the testosterone below,
Y5 resident (Level 7, Raja block)
it’s not so bad.”
The Raja Block is like scaling a mountain (literally). Sure, it has its many moments of cataclysmic agony that eventually give you calves of steel and impeccable timing. But, the small moments (you can learn more about them from this article) render it a worthwhile and significant part of every Raja student’s life. If you were, or are located there, I hope this article functioned as catharsis for your weary joints. If you don’t, but know a Raja dweller, maybe offer to carry their bags sometime. It’s the considerate thing to do.
And never, under any circumstance, complain about your class location around them.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have seven floors to climb in two minutes.







