In Defence of Small Dwellings

How living in small spaces can improve your life, and increase mental discipline.

When I was a student in London, I lived for three years in a 90-square-foot (8.36-square-meters) bedsit. This bedsit was part of a multi-room flat above a kebab shop, which a landlord rented to seven student tenants including myself. Mine was the tiniest of all the units. Within it was a single bed with metal frames, a small desk, a bookshelf made of wooden slats, a teeny wardrobe, an old, cramped shower and toilet with lichen clogged faucets, and a “kitchenette” with a mini fridge, a microwave with a single hot plate for cooking on top, and a wall mounted cabinet with just enough space to store a jar of instant coffee, a tin of sugar, and a bag of cereal. There were no windows and hardly any air movement.

When I invited my friends over, they’d look at me with a mixture of pity and horror. Today, when they recall their visits to my London student abode, they shudder, referring to it as “the prison cell”.

I had ended up here because I was late paying the deposit on my university’s room and board, and realised, two weeks before I left my family and their five-bedroom, four-level bungalow in Singapore for London, that I did not have a place to stay.

I had no money and was relying on the charity of my good father for housing, and living allowances as a student. I told him about my predicament and we went online to look for rental properties in the vicinity of Elephant and Castle, where my school was located. My father — wise and economical man that he is — picked the cheapest option. In retrospect, I realised that my his frugality is one of the main reasons he managed to save enough to build our very comfortable and spacious family house in Singapore. I had no choice but to comply.

In my second year at school, I had the option of finding a larger place if I wanted to, but I decided to stay on in my little hovel, which had by now become my sanctuary and, yes, my home.

If I was in front of the computer at my desk and I needed to get a book from the shelf, all I had to do was remain seated in my Ikea office swivel chair equipped with rollers, rock myself a few times to gain momentum, then take two big glides across to the bookshelf. I had a laptop, which doubled up as my…

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