I regarded a black man perched on a tree with a chainsaw in his hand. Swiftly, he leaned forward to shave off a branch and then another. He noticed my stares and smiled at me. I returned the smile and he was no longer the faceless black man. He made some gestures and uttered some words to his colleagues below. Based on their manly giggles, I suppose I should not have stared. Yet, I continued for I have not seen a man perched upon a tree or was sure that he was safe doing it. Later I realised he had a rope around his waist and my worry was nothing. But I supposed my smile was something. It made him no longer, a faceless man. In Singapore, thousands of faceless black and brown men toil against the sun to set our roads right, to build a flat or clean the streets. Their work is seen but not felt for we have not recognised them. I wish to know their names, their stories and the thousands more women and children back in their homeland. I wish to let them know how thankful I am for their work and how they too belong in this home.