I didn't know what to expect before I got there, but after three days in the sun (and rain) at Hong Lim Park, I came away with some strong impressions.

This Speakers' Corner is not the same as the one in Hyde Park - it cannot be. Singapore society and London society are not the same, the political conditions differ. Which therefore makes it all the more precious that there is such a space.

Of course, there are the restrictions on expressing matters related to religion and religious beliefs and those that "may cause feelings of enmity, hatred, ill will or hostility between racial or religious groups", but there is none on speaking out against the government.

For Singaporeans then, Hong Lim Park could be politically more meaningful than Hyde Park is to Londoners.

I was struck by how fearless the speakers were, which must be a sign that Singaporeans not only want to speak up but also dare to. Although the government has given the assurance that no policing or recording will be undertaken of proceedings at the park, nonetheless all speakers, who must be Singapore citizens, have to register at the police post adjacent to the Speakers' Corner before they can address a crowd.

More daunting than this, however, is the din of traffic and nearby construction works competing with the speakers' voices. This has given rise to appeals that sound amplification be allowed, but the government has stood firm on prohibiting it because "it may affect other speakers who are speaking at the same time". In any case, the same prohibition applies at Hyde Park.

On this score, opposition politicians like Chee Soon Juan, one of the leaders of the Singapore Democratic Party, have opted not to speak at Hong Lim Park.

"How can you reach out to many people if you're not allowed to use loudspeakers?" he told me in an interview. "How will you be able to organise a mass movement?

"On the first day of Speakers' Corner (Sept 1), a thousand people were present but very few could hear the speakers. It became a public cocktail party, with people gathering around to chit-chat."

Chee does not see the opening of Speakers' Corner as "any progress towards establishing freedom of speech". He sees it as a tactical move on the part of the government to gain "a lot of mileage in terms of international publicity".

He stands on the principle that one should not have to register before going on to speak, and to be bound by restrictions. Last year, he went to jail for consciously speaking in public without a permit.

There are Singaporeans, however, who feel that politicians like Chee should be the ones making full use of the Speakers' Corner as it provides them a platform to express their political beliefs.

"I tell you if Chee Soon Juan comes and speaks, the whole place will be booming," said an executive who refused to be identified. "Then it won't just be a meeting place for old fogeys."

The executive's second remark may not be totally accurate but it isn't off the mark. At least half the crowd at Speakers' Corner during the three days I was there did look above the age of 55, and there were a number who appeared to have made it their regular hangout.

Even so, there may be some value in the Speakers' Corner becoming a social confluence. I saw strangers striking up discussions between themselves on issues of Singaporean concern.

One concern pertains to the Speakers' Corner itself. Already, a question that is uppermost in many minds is: will it survive?

Of crucial importance would be the quality of the speakers and the issues they raise. Many at the moment seem confined to espousing personal grievances, like not being able to get a job or being unfairly treated by some municipal body.

On Saturday, a retired referee came and offered to talk about football. "Anything you want to know about football, you can ask me. I'm your man."

On Sunday, a wiry, straggly-bearded man who looked close to 70 held court for an hour pontificating in Hokkien on the need to do good.

"I started carrying guns at the age of 13. I've handled all kinds of firearms. But after the government arrested me, I became a good guy. To do bad, you must do it with reason. If you do bad without reason, a car knocks into you, you will die. But if you do good, a car knocks into you, you won't die."

The crowd was amused more than anything else. There was some semblance of heckling, but mostly polite.

"I'm here to listen to constructive ideas and relevant issues, not personal problems and anecdotes," said a storekeeper who only wanted to be known as LCH. "If this goes on, the interest will get less and less."

Another man in the crowd agreed. "Speakers' Corner will die off if there are not enough good speakers to sustain it." .. One unanimously acclaimed speaker is a 15-year-old student of the Anglo- Chinese School named Choo Zheng Xi. He had spoken twice before and was expected to show up again on Saturday, Sept 16, the day of my first visit.

Anticipation of his arrival ran high among the crowd. Two men spoke excitedly about his oratorial skills.

"He's damn good for his age. No fumbles. Most people are here to listen to him," said one.

"What the boy said the last time about ministers' salaries was true," said the other. "But the media didn't cover it. That's why I'm here to support him."

"The boy could be a future leader," said yet another man, in his 60s, who was at Speakers' Corner for the fifth time. "It's good for our young to speak up. I think our leaders also want them to do that. They can do their scouting that way, keep an eye on who's good for grooming for the future."

Unfortunately, Choo did not turn up. A woman in a flaming red blouse came on his behalf, to explain to the crowd - "so they would not be disappointed" - that the boy had to prepare for his coming examinations.

Chong Sun Wah ("call me Sunflower") mounted one of the stone tables at the site and, speaking in Mandarin, Chinese dialects and English, announced that she and a few others were in the process of getting together a committee "to keep the momentum going at Speakers' Corner".

She also said the committee would record the people's grievances in a book and channel them to the powers that be - to "force change from below".

In a passionate tone, she declared: "I believe the government is serious in opening up. So let us take up this challenge. Let us set the foundation for an intellectual forum here."

She made a plea to intellectuals to come forward and participate in Speakers' Corner. "I want to get people like Catherine Lim to be in the committee, to come and speak."

I called up Catherine Lim the next day to ask how she would respond if she were invited.

"I'm not generally interested in the Speakers' Corner because there is no mike and I cannot be heard," said Singapore's most successful and prolific creative writer. "But in principle, I'm glad there are people enthusiastic about it."

She said she would decline if asked to join Sunflower's committee but would do so personally.

"I operate in my own small way, and that is to watch the political trend very closely and to write about it as gently as I can. I think there are certainly signs that the government is loosening up, nobody denies that. What people are unhappy about is the pace - they say it is glacially slow.

"You can never have a free-for-all in Singapore. We have a pragmatic government that knows it has to safeguard the peace. As such, although it sees the need to roll with the times, it also has to strike a balance between the old dispensation and the new realities.

"But there will be a net gain in the end. Change will come eventually."

Meanwhile, back at the park, the wait for intellectuals to show up continues. Some did come in the first week, but, complained LCH, "most who come now are heartlanders and those who are not highly educated".

About the only intellectual speaker I witnessed was Tan Kim Chuang. Speaking forcefully in Mandarin and English, he questioned the mandatory jail sentence that is being meted out to Singaporeans who rent out their flats "unwittingly" to illegal immigrants.

He cited the case of an elderly man who was duped because he was illiterate and left the arrangements to his agent. The tenant's documents turned out to be forged, but the old man was still held liable and sent to jail.

"Do you know the mandatory jail sentence for the offence is six to 24 months? I say it is unfair!" asserted Tan with dramatic verve.

Tan managed to draw a crowd of about 300 to 400. That was about the number that filled Speakers' Corner that day, and it was a Sunday at that. Two-and-a-half weeks since its inception, the numbers were already dwindling.

Looking at the roster of speakers for the coming week, posted on the notice board outside the police post, offers a possible reason why - the names are generally the same. And not all of them show up.

"This is like the buffet syndrome - people put their names down and come as and when they like," complained Lim, a 53-year-old unemployed. "What they should also put on the roster is the time each speaker is due to speak. But our system is like that. The authorities give you leeway but not all the way. They deliberately refuse to put down the time so you come and wait. When you get tired of waiting, you go off."

Lim was justified. He had come on Monday evening. At 5pm, there were only seven people at the Speakers' Corner, including me. Nothing happened. Eventually, rain came and it was a washout.

"I hope this place doesn't die a natural death," said Eddy Leow, recently "self-retrenched due to the scarcity of economic opportunities".

He was yet another person to complain about the ban on the use of mikes. "It's a lame excuse," he said candidly. "Surely, it would be all right for speakers to use the kind of battery-operated mikes that salesmen use.

"I don't think the government has the courage to free the truth. But we should be true Singaporeans and speak up. This is the spirit of Speakers' Corner. If we cannot speak up, then who are we? As humans, we need to speak the truth. The true democratic spirit is to have the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. We should speak up as long as it is not scandalous or damaging to others."

Leow had come to listen, but the way he was going, he might well have gone up to speak. But it was raining and dusk was already darkening Speakers' Corner. He ended up making his comments in a place where speaking up in these parts traditionally began - a coffeeshop across the street.