48 | FORBES ASIA AUGUST 2017
Malaysia, Australia
(where his rival Koh is
already) and the U.K.
Or he could extend the
Hotel Boss overseas
with suitable sites. He
won’t share operational
numbers except to let
on that at overall annual
revenues of around $145
million, business has
been profitable.
Consumers have
ever increasing choices,
and competitors are still
migrating to Singapore,
but Choo expresses
confidence that, at his
rates, guests will keep
coming—especially as
low-cost airlines bring
multitudes from China
and India. “The market
likes this kind of price
and this kind of hotel,”
he says.
Choo honed his
business acumen from
a young age. He grew
up with six siblings in a kampong (vil-
lage) home in northeast Singapore. His
father was a carpenter and his mother a
homemaker. To help make ends meet he
sold ice cream in his neighborhood when
he was 10. By 14, he had dropped out of
school and become a fishmonger. Every
morning, he would head off to Kang-
kar fishery port, then situated near the
mouth of Singapore’s Serangoon River,
and sell baskets of catch at a nearby
market.
It was when he started selling textiles
at 17 that Choo got his first break. From
a small market stall, his trade grew,
and by age 32, he owned several stores.
Eventually he exited to focus on property
investments.
After a stay in a Tokyo salaryman
hotel in 1991, he had an inkling: “The
room was very small, and it was a very
fair price. I thought this one bring to
Singapore, can make money,” he recalls.
forcing him to slash rates.
“SARS was the worst.
My business dropped by
80%,” he recalls. The 2008
financial crisis dealt an-
other whammy. No bank
was willing to lend him
money to pay for a site he
had won in a government
tender as the sole bidder.
“I used some of my
cash, I used some of my
properties and all the OD
(overdraft) money, all
take out,” recalls Choo.
He paid $37 million for
the site, located along
what was a nondescript
suburban street. “In my
mind, I think, hey, [it’s
near the] MRT [mass
transit], I can make a
row of shops and build a
hotel.” Two years later, he
opened his first V Hotel
on the plot.
Today his daughter,
Carolyn, 40, the chief
financial officer, says
her father’s self-made saga has been a
source of inspiration for her and her
three brothers. “We know how difficult
it was for him to build his business. He
didn’t strike TOTO [the lottery], you
know.” Despite his success, she adds, her
father lives a simple life, preferring to
eat at hawker centers.
Choo is restructuring to put his vari-
ous units under a holding company that
will be run by Carolyn as group manag-
ing director, starting in January. “One
important mission is to preserve the
legacy,” she says. It will continue to be a
family-run business—two of her broth-
ers and a cousin are part of the team.
Meanwhile, Choo will remain involved
in strategy.
While there has been some talk of
taking the company public, Choo says
that is not imminent. “After 70, I will
think about it. Now I can still control.
Now I can still work.”Singapore’s 50 Richest
CHOO CHONG NGEN
Three months after his return, he had
enlisted an architect and selected Gey-
lang, where he owned properties, as his
launchpad.
In 1995, he opened his first Hotel 81,
using the unit number of his home at the
time. “Because I no study, I cannot put
Shangri-La. I don’t know how to spell,”
he laughs with self-deprecation. “Hotel
81? I know how to write.”
As it turned out, Choo’s business
literacy was stellar. Within five years, he
had ten hotels, mostly in Geylang and
the adjacent Joo Chiat neighborhood.
“I’m 100% hands on, not 99%,” he quips.
He does daily spot checks and fixates on
details such as the design of the laundry
baskets and the baggage trolleys used by
the bellboys. In the past, he would even
help out with housekeeping during staff
shortages.
Challenges have tested his resolve.
The 2003 SARS outbreak was a big blow, F“We only sell rooms; we don’t sell anything else”: Hotel 81 in Geylang.