How One Teen is Rebuilding Dignity for Singapore's Migrant Workers At just 16, Aditi Razdan is transforming the narrative around Singapore's migrant workers, rebuilding their dignity through an innovative blend of empathy and digital action with her initiative, HAVN.

When Singapore-based teenager Aditi Razdan's grandfather was stranded alone in northern India during the abrupt COVID-19 lockdown, she was shaken. Despite the chaos, the Karnal district government acted swiftly, deploying a support team to assist him with food and medicine. It was an extraordinary act of public compassion that left a lasting impact.

But as Aditi would soon realise, not everyone had that safety net.

While her grandfather was cared for, thousands of daily-wage migrant workers across India found themselves jobless and food-insecure. When the Karnal government launched a donation program to support these labourers, Aditi sprang into action.

She led her Girl Scouts network in Singapore, organising a fundraiser that raised over SGD 5,000, enough to support more than 100 families. It was her first experience in structured humanitarian work, and it taught her how systems, when backed by community action, could be transformative.

But it also sparked a deeper awareness.

"If we could do this from another country," Aditi recalls, "why weren't we doing it for the people right in front of us?"

That moment planted seeds of empathy that would blossom into Helping All Voices be Noticed (HAVN), now a registered charity, aimed at restoring dignity for Singapore's migrant worker community. At 16, Aditi, holder of the Girl Scouts Gold Award and winner of Codefest — a national coding hackathon, leads HAVN, a movement that combines compassion and digital innovation. HAVN hopes to build a home away from home for the migrant community.

The Invisible Workforce, Made Visible

Aditi, like most Singaporeans, grew up watching the quiet labour of migrant workers — men who built Singapore's towering skyscrapers and twisting roads, yet remained socially invisible. One humid afternoon, Aditi saw a mother pull her child away from a group of tired, dust-covered workers, warning, "These people are unhygienic and unsafe."

"It wasn't her words," she recalls, "it was the casual dismissal of their dignity. These were men who were building her and her child's world, yet in that moment, a young mind was learning to see them as outsiders."

Starting Small: Food, Trust, and Festival Kindness

Her first step was simple but heartfelt: she began organising food donations for workers in Singapore during festive seasons. She wanted to bring some part of home to their celebrations. Yet, as she sought to expand her efforts in Singapore, she began to hit walls. Dorm managers remained sceptical. "They said I was too young. I wouldn't understand."

Eventually, Westlite Dormitory in Woodlands, home to over 4000 workers, opened its gates.

Aditi's approach focused on letting migrant workers take the lead, rather than projecting her perception of what they might need. "I didn't go in pointing flaws," she explains. "I went asking: what do you want changed?"

After lengthy interviews, Aditi noticed a shared longing: not for luxury but for belonging. Most workers missed their villages, families and the community they had left behind.

With their input, she envisioned a kampong-style gathering space modelled after the warmth and familiarity of Southeast Asian villages. Simple changes, such as installing seating, planting flower beds, and building fences, transformed sterile dormitories into sanctuaries, even winning an inter-dorm competition.

A Singapore-based interior designer volunteered her expertise, and Aditi mobilised her Girl Scouts troop, her neighbourhood, and school, hosting bake sales and writing articles to spread the word, raising over SGD 4,000.

"Ultimately, it wasn't just about building a space. It was about building trust and building it with and for them."

From Dorms to Devices: Tech-Enabled Dignity

While setting up the space, Aditi learned that many workers were unaware of existing legal, healthcare, or nonprofit support programs.

"They were like fish out of water with no centralised source for easy access to resources," she says.

Her solution: a resource website offering links to legal aid, clinics, and events. But it didn't stop there.

One story stuck with her: a worker had missed his child's birth because he couldn't afford a smartphone to video call home. Meanwhile, she observed how easily middle-class families discarded old phones.

"I thought: why isn't there a system that connects these two groups?"

So she began building an app that directly connects migrant workers with donors. Workers can list their needs — phones, furniture, and clothes — while donors can upload what they have.

"This is about democratising generosity: making kindness frictionless."

The app is expected to be operational by early December in collaboration with Westlite Dormitory.

Building the Future by Involving the Community

Yet, real change can only happen if there is a more profound cultural shift that changes attitudes and perception. For Aditi, the best place to start is with the youth, who will raise the next generation of Singaporeans. She's designed and hosted empathy-building sessions for children aged 8 to 16 at local schools, on migrant life, stereotypes, and social responsibility.

Simultaneously, Aditi engages in events for migrant workers, encouraging the wider community to join. Recently, she led the largest Deepawali carnival at Westlite, in collaboration with the dormitory staff. Inspired by her ambitious plans, involving multiple games and food collaborations with over 5 restaurants, volunteers from all walks of life participated. The celebrations, broadcasted on national television, were for Aditi a testament to the impact that can be had if the community comes together as one.

"This movement is bigger than me," she says. "The larger Singapore community needs to see migrant workers not as 'others,' but as integral partners in building our nation."

A Vision with Roots and Reach

Aditi's work isn't just reactive, it's strategic. Her next steps include:

1. Launching the donor-recipient app in pilot dorms;
2. Expanding the kampong-style community space model across multiple housing facilities;
3. Building a youth ambassador pipeline to sustain the mission after she graduates.

"I don't want this to be a one-girl project," she says. "I want this to be a movement."

Why It Matters Now

Singapore, like many global cities, relies heavily on migrant labour but often falls short in fully integrating them into the social fabric. Aditi's project serves as a replicable model for any city grappling with balancing growth with humanity.

"This article isn't just a story," Aditi shared in her interview. "It's a way to bring in traffic and legitimise and grow the work further."

Aditi hopes to attract NGOs, corporates, and local donors to join her mission, and she welcomes anyone interested in co-building that future.

A Final Word

Aditi Razdan's HAVN isn't about charity. It's about empathy, equity, and engineering compassion into the systems we take for granted.

Because dignity, as she reminds us, "should be the default, not the exception."