The former Portuguese colony will become Asean’s 11th member in October 2025. Indonesia bureau chief Arlina Arshad visits the young nation to gauge its pulse.
A typical street in Dili in May 2025. Timor-Leste has had to be rebuilt from scratch since it formally separated from Indonesia in 2002. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
DILI – Ms Ana Hula Muda was only five when the men in black came.
It was 1999. Just after lunch, pro-Indonesian militia stormed her family home in the coastal town of Liquica. Wearing red-and-white headbands – the colors of the Indonesian flag – they carried knives and shouted threats. They were hunting down her father.
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“They threw rocks and shouted at my mother, ‘If we don’t find your husband, we will kill you’,” she told The Straits Times, her voice shaking. “My father escaped through the window.”
The day before, she had seen a militiaman press a gun to her uncle’s head. He survived, barely. Soon after, the family fled across the border to Atambua town in Indonesia.
It was a terrifying chapter in the final days of Indonesia’s 24-year occupation of Timor-Leste. In an Aug 30, 1999, referendum backed by the United Nations, nearly 80 per cent of Timorese had voted for independence.
The result sparked a wave of violence by pro-Jakarta forces unhappy with the outcome. They torched homes in the capital Dili, looted offices and churches, and hunted down those backing the breakaway – resulting in more than 2,000 Timorese deaths and decimating 75 per cent of the fledgling nation’s infrastructure. More than 250,000 people were displaced from their homes, according to UNHCR, the UN refugee agency.
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Ms Muda and her family returned to Timor-Leste before the territory formally gained independence on May 20, 2002. She enrolled in school in the capital. For a brief moment, it seemed like peace had arrived.
Then violence erupted again. On April 28, 2006, clashes between soldiers, police and youth gangs paralyzed Dili once more.
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“It brought everything back,” Ms Muda said. “They shot into our neighborhood from the hills. My friend and I picked bullets off the ground.”
She paused, eyes glistening. “Why does this keep happening? Why must we hide again?”
Memories of Timor-Leste’s struggles for independence haunt Ms Ana Hula Muda, a law graduate. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Now 31, Ms Muda is a law graduate who topped her faculty at the National University of Timor-Leste. As she prepares for the Bar exam while working at a Singapore-founded law firm, she advocates for justice, women’s rights and youth empowerment, and dreams of a future where no child in Timor-Leste has to flee from gunfire.
“I want to fight for justice and equal rights,” she said. “I don’t want the past to repeat. It’s frightening. It’s traumatizing.”
Her hope lies in Asean. To her, Timor-Leste’s membership in the grouping means opportunity: skills, networks and motivation to move forward.
“If we want to compete with others in the region, we have to improve ourselves. That gives us strength,” she said of the former Portuguese colony. “Leste” means east in Portuguese.
Asean dreams, political realities
Inside the presidential palace in Dili, a room stands ready for official use. Flags of South-east Asian nations – all 10 current members of the regional grouping – stand on polished poles, and portraits of their leaders line the walls. This is the Asean Hall.
President Jose Ramos-Horta hopes the stately hall will soon host Timor-Leste’s first meetings as a full member of the regional grouping.
The Nobel Peace laureate and former political activist, who survived a 2008 assassination attempt, is now waging a different battle: to secure a seat for his young nation at South-east Asia’s table.
Located one floor below President Jose Ramos-Horta’s office, the Asean Hall stands ready to receive Asean leaders once Timor-Leste becomes a member of the grouping. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Photographs of Asean leaders and cultural artefacts from Asean countries are displayed in the Asean Hall, in Timor-Leste’s presidential palace in Dili. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
“We would have to be very dumb people when we have such rich neighbors, successful, and we don’t benefit from it,” he told ST in an interview in May. “So you join an organization of stable, strong economies – we tend to gain. We have nothing to lose.”
Timor-Leste applied for Asean membership in 2011. It was granted observer status in 2022, but is still under scrutiny as the grouping assesses its readiness.
Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim – whose country is the Asean chair in 2025 – announced at the Asean Summit on May 27 that Timor-Leste will become a full member of the regional grouping at its meeting scheduled for October 2025.
The half-island nation – located between eastern Indonesia and northern Australia, and 20 times bigger than Singapore – will then be Asean’s 11th member.
Timor-Leste President Jose Ramos-Horta attending an event on May 15 to mark the country’s 23rd year of independence, highlighting the progress made by municipalities in delivering public services and promoting local culture. ST PHOTO: ARLINA ARSHAD
Mr Ramos-Horta said the country had met six of seven benchmarks on Asean’s road map. The final challenge lies in economic reforms, including improvements to infrastructure and compliance with trade agreements.
He acknowledged initial resistance from some member nations, citing concerns such as the country’s fragile institutions, limited resources and governance gaps. Still, Asean accession has topped his agenda since he returned to office in 2022. He was previously also president from 2007 to 2012.
“When I took over as president, my decision was: What is the absolute priority for Timor-Leste? Joining Asean, nothing else.”—Timor-Leste President Jose Ramos-Horta
“In retrospect, I am profusely thankful to those who insisted that we are not ready… Asean will always focus on human resources development, economic development of Timor-Leste. And so that’s what we ended up doing all these years. We have made tremendous progress,” he said.
The Asean Hall has already welcomed heavyweight visitors such as the late Pope Francis, the Sultan of Brunei, and Cambodian strongman Hun Sen.
Timor-Leste’s Vice-Minister for Asean Affairs Milena Rangel reflected on the country’s long road to get to where it is today.
“We are coming from a country that was completely destroyed. We developed from the ashes,” she told ST. “You can imagine, institutionally, we had to rebuild a nation from scratch.”
Timor-Leste’s Vice-Minister for Asean Affairs Milena Rangel represents the nation at Asean-related meetings. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Since February 2023, Timor-Leste has attended every Asean-related meeting. But beyond the photo ops, full membership hinges on hard economics. The country lacks free trade agreements and has only a handful of trained negotiators, Ms Rangel said.
Timor-Leste’s recent step into the World Trade Organization has helped lay the groundwork. But for one of Asia’s poorest nations, the climb is steep.
“We don’t want to be isolated,” said Ms Rangel. “Timor-Leste would like to be part of this organization (Asean) not only as the beneficiary – it would also like to be a valuable member and contribute.”
Support from regional neighbors has started to flow. Singapore alone has trained more than 800 officials through the Stars – Singapore-Timor-Leste Asean Readiness Support – program.
One beneficiary is Mr Charles Guterres, 46, principal of a hospitality and tourism school for students aged 15 to 17. After training in Singapore in 2024 and 2025, he returned with a vision.
A hospitality and tourism school in Timor-Leste run by Mr Charles Guterres (centre) teaches skills in hotel services, food preparation, beauty services and dressmaking. ST PHOTO: ARLINA ARSHAD
Inspired by the city-state’s model – where industry professionals teach practical skills – he overhauled his school’s approach.
Students now visit hotels, factories and restaurants for hands-on learning. English has become the working language.
“Before, some teachers didn’t want to learn English. I told them ‘no’. This is a tourism school, so you have to improve your English. Everyone is forced to speak English now. This is the rule I have,” he told ST.
Speaking English is a must during this training session, which sees students doing role play for checking into a “mini hotel”, referring to small-scale, budget accommodation. Unmute to listen to their conversation. ST VIDEO: ARLINA ARSHAD
Still, political stability remains a lingering concern. Although violence has largely subsided, power struggles between Timor-Leste’s two dominant parties, the ruling National Congress for Timorese Reconstruction and the opposition Fretilin, continue to define the nation’s politics.
Since independence in 2002, three familiar figures have dominated: President Ramos-Horta, Prime Minister Xanana Gusmao and opposition leader Mari Alkatiri.
Mr Gusmao and Mr Ramos-Horta have taken turns as president and prime minister. Mr Alkatiri, head of Fretilin, has twice served as prime minister.
Under the “semi-presidential system”, the only one of its kind in Southeast Asia, the elected president handles foreign affairs and defense. The prime minister, selected by Parliament and appointed by the president, runs domestic policy and the economy.
Mr Gusmao’s flagship initiative is the Tasi Mane project – a multibillion-dollar bid to process gas from the offshore Greater Sunrise field domestically. He calls it essential for national development. Critics, including Mr Alkatiri, say it is a gamble.
Mr Mari Alkatiri of the opposition Fretilin party has served twice as prime minister under Timor-Leste’s “semi-presidential system”, in which the president handles foreign affairs and defence while the prime minister takes charge of domestic policy and the economy. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Criticising Mr Gusmao’s leadership on several policy fronts, Mr Alkatiri told ST: “Now we are passing through a big constitutional crisis.”
“Because the problem is, when you keep leading the country, you become a victim of your own ego,” he added. “What we need to have is a clear vision, a clear policy and a clear program to develop the country.”
Mr Alkatiri supports Asean membership, but calls for a five-year transition plan. He has also slammed the management of the country’s oil wealth. Much has been drawn from the nation’s Petroleum Fund, he said, yet the country still lacks basic services like health, housing or education.
The International Monetary Fund said Timor-Leste has saved revenue from its offshore oil and gas fields in the Petroleum Fund, which now exceeds US$18 billion (S$23.1 billion) — roughly 10 times the country’s annual gross domestic product.
“The most transparent thing in this country is corruption. Everybody can judge on this.”—Timor-Leste’s opposition leader Mari Alkatiri
Mr Alkatiri has not spoken to Mr Gusmao since 2017. “I’m ready for dialogue. But we need to respect each other first,” the opposition leader said.
Mr Ramos-Horta agreed that internal reform is overdue. He blamed two of his predecessors, Mr Taur Matan Ruak and Mr Francisco Guterres, for “completely mismanaging” ties with Parliament and the executive.
Years of political patronage have bloated the public sector, Mr Ramos-Horta said, adding that the civil service needs “a complete revamping” and “serious downsizing”. He hopes to halve its size without causing any social and political problems. He has yet to raise the matter with Mr Gusmao.
The President likened the situation to a fable.
“You know the story of the frog and, I think, a cow. The frog looked at the cow and was very jealous of how big it was. So the frog started drinking water, drinking, drinking, growing bigger and bigger — and then blew herself up,” Mr Ramos-Horta said.
“In Singapore, you are fortunate… If Singaporean leaders had begun to play around with democracy like Timor-Leste, I don’t think you’d be the Singapore of today.”
On great-power tensions, Timor-Leste will tread carefully, refusing to choose between the United States and China, both of which it maintains good relations with, he said.
“I will say in a bit of a pragmatic way, my philosophy is when you see a tiger or a lion walking down your bush road… what do you do? Better hide in the bush, or climb up a coconut tree. So, when I see President Trump walking down the dirt road, I hide in the bush.”
Young dreams, bold futures
Children at a playground in Jardim 5 de Maio, a popular park in central Dili. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Twenty-three-year-old university student Octavio Belo (center) with his friends after playing cricket and football at the Jardim 5 de Maio park. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
At Jardim 5 de Maio, a popular park in central Dili, children swing from monkey bars, teenagers kick footballs, and students pore over books under shady shelters. Some were selling national flags ahead of May 20, the day Timor-Leste became fully independent.
Among the young people there was Mr Octavio Belo, 23, a social science undergraduate catching his breath after a game of cricket. His hopes are clear. “Decent jobs, better infrastructure and more opportunities,” he said.
A recent trip to Indonesia’s popular tourist destination Bali left a strong impression on him. “Their airport is very big,” he told ST, bluntly comparing it with Dili’s modest Presidente Nicolau Lobato International Airport.
Dili’s Presidente Nicolau Lobato International Airport, an aging facility with limited capacity and outdated infrastructure, is slated for major upgrades to meet international standards. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
That is beginning to change. On May 20, the government broke ground on a long-delayed airport upgrade, in partnership with a Japanese consortium. The multimillion-dollar project includes a two-story terminal and a longer runway – from 1,850m to 3,000m.
By 2028, the airport aims to serve up to one million passengers annually and connect Dili to major cities across Asia. The airport, named after a national hero, today serves around 200,000 passengers annually, according to a 2014 report by The Asia Foundation.
The development signals ambition, but also lays bare how much more is needed, especially for Timor-Leste’s youth.
Pupils from the St Paul Methodist School Timor-Leste singing their country’s national anthem. ST VIDEO: ARLINA ARSHAD
According to the 2022 Population and Housing Census, 41.9 per cent of Timorese are under 18. Yet, education accounts for just 5.57 per cent of the 2025 state budget. This amounts to around US$145.8 million out of US$2.617 billion. The current population stands at around 1.5 million.
In many schools, the gaps are stark: outdated textbooks, poorly equipped libraries, aging classrooms and undertrained teachers. The use of Portuguese as the main language of instruction adds another hurdle. Access to quality education remains uneven across the country.
For many young Timorese, public-sector jobs remain the safest bet, said Mr Belo, the undergraduate. But he is charting his own path. Inspired by apps used in Indonesia, like Grab and Gojek, he hopes to launch a local food and transport delivery platform.
For international agency worker Augusto Soares, 46, education has long been both a personal and national struggle.
“Sometimes you don’t have a chance to actually focus on your education,” he told ST, recalling his youth spent in the underground resistance during the Indonesian occupation.
Mr Augusto Soares with his 14-year-old daughter Alina at the private school she attends. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Now, he is determined to give his seven-year-old son and 14-year-old daughter a better shot at life. He has enrolled them at St Paul Methodist School (SPMS), a private English-medium school in Dili run by Singaporean educator David Chan and his family.
Mr Soares believes the school’s hands-on approach, moderate fees and focus on real-world skills are exactly what Timor-Leste’s young people need to thrive – both at home and abroad.
He said the country needs an education system that prepares young people for jobs and builds critical thinking and practical skills. He recalled attending a government conference in 2011 where leaders spoke at length about peace in a more abstract way. But for many Timorese, peace meant something more immediate and tangible.
Pupils from the morning session at St Paul Methodist School being taken home on a motorbike. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
“People weren’t asking about peace (per se),” Mr Soares said. “They were asking for roads to their schools and communities, for water, electricity, food, and good health and good education. You can’t talk about peace when those things are absent. People feel peace when their basic needs are met.”
He added: “You have to be practical. People want to eat. People want to have jobs. The government should think and prioritize education as No. 1.”
His dreams for his children are modest, but heartfelt.
“I just want my children to have a good life. They can be whatever they want – as long as they can support their family and survive.”
Across Dili, children grow up with dreams shaped by their surroundings, and by the world they glimpse through their mobile phones. Some play mobile games while at the Tais traditional textile market, listen to American rap icons Tupac Shakur and 50 Cent, laugh at Malaysia’s Upin & Ipin cartoons, and dream of traveling to neighboring Southeast Asian countries, Australia or far-off Switzerland.
Children playing games on a mobile phone at the Tais traditional textile market. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
That same sense of hope is what drives Mr Chan, the Singaporean educator, to keep going in his field.
The 50-year-old started SPMS in 2016 with just 18 students and two teachers – himself and his wife.
Today, the school has 1,100 primary and secondary students and 85 staff, including 45 teachers, most of them Timorese. Located in Metinaro, a quiet coastal town 45 minutes from Dili, SPMS is largely funded by donors from Singapore. Its curriculum blends local and international standards, with a strong focus on job readiness and practical life skills.
“Coming here, I realized there’s more to life than just the fast pace of things. When I return to Singapore, I struggle to keep up with it – and I tell myself, it’s not necessary,” Mr Chan said.
He added: “We’re still very comfortable. Ultimately, for me, it’s about how the kids turn out. We must find meaning and purpose in what we do. As long as we’re happy and content, I think that’s what really matters. Contentment is important.”
Singaporean educator David Chan (second from right) with his wife Sing Ching Guek and their two sons – Isaac (right), who now teaches at the St Paul Methodist School, and Isaiah. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
A nation gears up for growth
In most Southeast Asian cities, a five-story mall is unremarkable. In Dili, it is a landmark.
Timor Plaza is Timor-Leste’s only shopping mall, which opened in 2011 – and is arguably the most modern facility in the country. But it is more than a place to shop. It is where business deals are made, where foreigners gather, and where Dili’s elite meet over coffee.
Law firms, banks, developers and travel agencies occupy the upper floors. A hotel sits at the top. On the ground floor, shelves are lined with Chinese-brand mobile phones, South-east Asian snacks and made-in-China household goods.
Timor Plaza in Dili is the only shopping mall in Timor-Leste, Asia’s youngest country with a population of only 1.5 million. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Home appliances and household goods displayed in an atrium inside Timor Plaza, the only shopping mall in Timor-Leste. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
At the hotel’s breakfast buffet, a mix of foreign accents – European, Antipodean, South American and Southeast Asian, including Singaporean – hints at the capital’s small but growing international footprint. Where Starbucks and McDonald’s are the norm elsewhere, it is Burger King and Australian coffee chain Gloria Jean’s that serve Dili’s affluent crowd, mostly expatriates.
Step outside, and the contrast is striking.
At Taibesi market, vendors squat beside tarpaulins under the blazing sun, selling vegetables, bundles of firewood and live chickens.
People shopping for fresh produce at the Taibesi market in Dili. ST VIDEO: ARLINA ARSHAD
Over at Manleuana market, second-hand clothes dominate – shoes, jackets and shirts in chaotic piles or dangling from rusted poles.
Many of the garments hail from Singapore, Australia and Thailand. A faded jacket bears the crest of Singapore’s Nanyang Technological University. Others are tagged with various labels, including Uniqlo, Pull&Bear and FBT.
“This is the real shopping mall,” Ms Jena Rosiana Olo Mau, 38, who sells used T-shirts for between US$1 and US$2, told ST. “From Singapore. Everyone says goods sent from Singapore are of good quality.”
Ms Jena Rosiana Olo Mau selling used T-shirts at the Manleuana second-hand goods market. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Old yellow taxis from Singapore’s CityCab fleet now rattle through Dili’s dusty streets. Down by the waterfront, families sip fresh coconut juice, couples watch fishing boats drift by the Cristo Rei statue, and children splash in the waves.
But behind these postcard scenes lies a more complex reality. Infrastructure – roads, ports, electricity and water supply – remains patchy. The World Bank has described Timor-Leste’s growth as fragile and uneven. As recently as 2024, 42 per cent of the population lived below the poverty line.
Since 2012, Timor-Leste’s minimum wage has remained stagnant at US$115 a month, despite inflation and increasing evidence of poverty making the case for an increase in wages to prevent further impoverishment.
Still, open signs of poverty are rare. “It’s shameful to the family if someone begs,” said a local driver. “We make do.”
Fish peddlers are a common sight in Dili. Fishermen often sell their catch directly to buyers in the city or to local markets and restaurants. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
The World Bank has urged for a stronger private sector to create jobs, improve productivity and ensure public funds reach those who need them most.
Foreign investors see potential, but face persistent challenges: strict land laws, policy reversals with each election and unreliable infrastructure. Power is costly and unstable. Water supply is inconsistent. Limited air connectivity and heavy reliance on the US dollar add to the burden.
Local residents speak of a Timorese developer who built a high-end hotel, but could not secure an international brand partner because of a lack of skilled staff. There are also rumblings of a planned casino, which some see as clashing with the country’s deeply Roman Catholic identity.
Palm Springs Hotel Dili, a newly built nine-storey hotel, operates the first five-star accommodation facilities in Dili. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
This historic Portuguese colonial-style market building has been renovated and repurposed as the Dili Convention Centre. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Still, optimism endures.
“The biggest strength that Timor-Leste has is the young people. They are very trainable, entrepreneurial, hard-working, and keen to learn,” Mr Jeremiah Chan, a Malaysian entrepreneur who has lived in Dili since 2011, told ST.
His company, Island Explorer, offers tours, hotel bookings and vehicle rentals. He believes the country’s appeal lies in niche experiences that attract thrill-seekers and nature lovers alike. These include mountain biking and birdwatching, and swimming with blue whales in turquoise waters.
A family of three relaxing by the beach as the sun sets over the iconic 27m-high Cristo Rei statue on a hill in Dili. ST VIDEO: ARLINA ARSHAD
But passion alone is not enough. Investors continue to grapple with bureaucracy. Branding is another hurdle.
While Singapore and Kuala Lumpur are instantly recognized by landmarks like Marina Bay Sands and the Petronas Towers, Timor-Leste still lacks a defining image, Mr Jeremiah Chan said.
As one of the least visited countries in the world and the least visited in Asia – with tourism being a relatively new sector – Timor-Leste welcomed only 81,000 visitors in 2023, putting it just ahead of Chad and Sierra Leone.
Some developers hope to change that.
Among the most ambitious projects is Pelican Paradise, a 556ha mixed-use township development envisioned by a Singaporean businessman, Datuk Edward Ong.
Unveiled in 2008, the project promises hotels, condominiums, bungalows, a convention centre, a hospital and an international school. But years of delays due to weak infrastructure and shifting government priorities have slowed progress.
Mr Samuel Ong, Pelican Paradise’s director of operations, standing beside a model of the resort. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
Still, the Ong family is staying the course, driven by a Christian values-led approach that rejects unethical practices, including corruption.
“We do everything above board,” Mr Samuel Ong, the elder Mr Ong’s son and Pelican Paradise’s director of operations, who has lived in Timor-Leste for seven years, told ST.
“No businessmen would stay here after what we have gone through. It takes a different kind of person… to do what we’re doing,” he said.
The elder Mr Ong, who is the group’s chairman, visited Timor-Leste as a church missionary in 2008 and recognized the country’s potential.
The Ong family also intends to fund training for Timorese workers in the hospitality and service industry, as part of a long-term plan to improve local skills and build a more sustainable tourism economy.
Mr Alexandre Tilman, Timor-Leste’s ambassador to Singapore. ST PHOTO: ARLINA ARSHAD
Timor-Leste’s ambassador to Singapore, Mr Alexandre Tilman, acknowledged the obstacles – from weak institutions to limited administrative capacity – but said the government remains open to dialogue.
“Who would like to go and invest in a country where it’s unpredictable?” he told ST. “Come and talk to us… We have a democratic system, which means the government changes regularly, and policies too. But not agreements we have signed with investors. We don’t just, out of the blue, say: ‘Hey, we signed this agreement with you, now we’re going to change it whether you like it or not.’”
Mr Tilman identified four priority sectors for investment: energy, tourism, agriculture and fisheries, and infrastructure. There is growing interest in real estate and tourism, with incentives such as a flat 2.5 per cent tax rate and tax holidays for investments over US$500,000.
Cargo boats and fishing boats seen against the evening sun at the waterfront in Dili. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
He added that the country’s preference for dialogue over confrontation has helped it maintain strong ties with neighbours like Indonesia and Australia, a stance he believes will reassure long-term investors.
But perception remains a key hurdle.
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“People still think of Timor-Leste as a country that just emerged from the 1999 referendum,” Mr Tilman said. “They still have the idea that Timor-Leste is ridden with conflict, unsafe, very poor. So one of our missions is to change that perspective.”
For people outside the country wondering how safe it really is, travel agent Chan said: “I’ve never, ever felt threatened here. It’s such a safe, beautiful and wonderful country.” /dl
Two girls dressed in Timor-Leste’s traditional Tais costume to participate in a local contest, sitting at the waterfront in Dili. ST PHOTO: ANTONIO DACIPARU
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