From Hawker Stalls to Heartfelt Seats: My Ramadan at INSEAD

There is a question no one tells you to ask before arriving in Singapore. 

Not "Where will I live?" 

Not "How will I get around?" 

But something quieter and more personal: "Will I still be myself here? Will it feel like family?"

This Ramadan was my answer. And honestly, I did not see it coming.

We had just survived P3 practicals, running on fumes, on group chats, and on the kind of adrenaline that only INSEAD can produce. In the middle of all that, I was fasting. Waking up before sunrise. No food, no coffee, all day under the Singapore sun.

Before arriving, the doubts were real. In Fontainebleau, everything felt close. The campus, the people, all of us living inside that beautiful bubble. Singapore is different. The city is bigger, distances are longer, and apartments are further apart. People warned me that the magic of Fonty does not travel. I almost believed them.

Then, on the very first day, someone in the cohort created a WhatsApp group for iftar dinners. I opened it expecting the usual small circle. Instead, I kept scrolling. MIMs I had barely spoken to had joined simply because someone they knew was going through something. That alone was enough for them.

This school is built on a belief that is easy to say and harder to live: give, give, get. I understood the words before Singapore. I truly felt them here. What I saw this month was not a transaction. It was a reflex. People giving their evenings, their curiosity and their presence without keeping score. Some even fasted voluntarily just to stand beside us. Even some professors supported us in this adventure, reminding us that at INSEAD, we truly are one family.

45 nationalities in one cohort is not just a statistic. It is the reason a simple iftar invitation became a month-long journey through Singapore’s food culture. Every evening, someone picked a restaurant with a cuisine none of us had tried. We explored the city together, from the buzzing hawker stalls of Lau Pa Sat to the riverside streets of Boat Quay, the food spots around Orchard, and, of course, Holland Village.  Slowly, we discovered Singapore through its flavours.  

The only daily crisis was coffee. Singapore runs on kopi, which is its own beautiful thing, but not quite what you dream of after a long day. Our unlikely hero became iJooz orange juice. Cold, fresh, and possibly the best thing in the city. Aymane tried it once and has not stopped talking about it since. Another unspoken rule quickly appeared: after dinner, we would find a new ice cream place. A different one each night, no repeats.

The night before Eid, there was no plan. By the next morning, 30 of us were having brunch together. MIMs, MBAs, GEMBAs, and even some alumni. Some were people I had met two weeks earlier, others I had not properly met yet, but we all sat at the same table. Messages kept arriving from classmates I barely knew, full of warmth and the quiet generosity that this community somehow keeps producing.

INSEAD does not just give you a network. It gives you a family. Not one built on shared blood or hometowns, but on something rarer: the genuine desire to see each other thrive.

The connections we built in Fontainebleau are not tied to a place. They travel. They show up at a thirty-person brunch that nobody planned.

Somewhere along the way, Singapore quietly became home. And now I can say yes. I spent this month with my family.

To everyone who showed up, you know who you are. Thank you. This was the best one yet.

Yours,
Mohamed Amehri and the Iftar Group