Singapore parenting, practical reviews and tech notes

Rove Beetles in Vietnam: The Tiny Bug We Didn’t Take Seriously Until My Daughter’s Eye Started Swelling

Howard Toh

A tourist PSA from our Ho Chi Minh City trip

During our recent trip to Ho Chi Minh City, we stayed in a well-furnished apartment on the 17th floor. It was a nice place, the host was responsive, and honestly, this was not the sort of problem I expected to encounter so high above ground level.

But over the first couple of days, we started noticing tiny insects crawling around inside the apartment.

At first, I did what many people would probably do without thinking too much: I squashed a few of them.

Bad idea.

We later realised these were rove beetles, known locally in Vietnam as kiến ba khoang. They are small, easy to miss, and they do not bite or sting. That is probably why many tourists may not immediately see them as dangerous.

The problem is what happens when they are crushed.

Rove beetles can contain an irritant called pederin. If the beetle is crushed against the skin, or if its body fluid gets transferred onto skin, towels, bedsheets, clothing, or surfaces, it can cause a painful skin reaction called Paederus dermatitis. The rash can look like a burn, blister, infection, or even shingles.

That was the part we did not know. Here’s a short clip of one of the many in our apartment. YouTube Shorts: https://youtube.com/shorts/lERdwH2axbQ

What Happened to Emma

From around the second day of our stay, we noticed some swelling and redness around Emma’s eye area.

At first, we did not immediately connect it to the insects in the apartment. After all, these beetles are not known to sting. There was no obvious “bite moment”, no screaming, no dramatic jungle-adventure scene. Just some redness and swelling that slowly became worrying.

Emma's eye swelling from rove beetle dermatitis during HCMC tripRedness and swelling near the eye caused by Paederus dermatitis from rove beetle

As the trip went on, the area looked more inflamed, and because it was near her eye, we decided not to wait it out. Skin reactions are one thing. Anything near the eye is where my parental overthinking department opens a full emergency branch office.

So I brought Emma to Tâm Anh General Hospital in District 7 of Ho Chi Minh City.

Registration @ Tam Anh Hospital in District 7

Visiting Tâm Anh Hospital as a Tourist in HCMC

Pediatric Consultation at Tam Anh HospitalWe went to Tâm Anh General Hospital for Emma’s consultation.

My quick summary of the experience: it felt like a private hospital visit, closer to something like Gleneagles in Singapore in terms of environment, but the bill was surprisingly affordable from a Singaporean tourist’s point of view.

The hospital was clean, quiet, and very well-staffed. In fact, there seemed to be more nurses and staff than patients when we were there.

The one area that could have been better was English communication. For a hospital that seems fairly modern and private, I expected basic English communication to be smoother. We managed, but it was not seamless until we saw the doctor.

That said, once the doctor came in, the consultation itself was relaxed and reassuring. Emma noticed that the doctor walked in wearing Crocs, which immediately made the whole thing feel a bit less intimidating. Not exactly the solemn hospital drama scene I had prepared myself for.

The doctor was an experienced older paediatrician, and almost immediately after looking at Emma’s skin, she asked whether it could be an insect-related reaction.

At that point, I was still unsure.

Then we both started trying to describe the same insect in our own ways. I showed her photos of rove beetles, and we had the “ah, yes, that one” moment.

The doctor suspected that Emma may have come into contact with a rove beetle while sleeping, or unknowingly during the day. Another possibility is that the irritant may have been transferred from a crushed beetle on a surface, towel, bedsheet, or object.

And yes, I had crushed one or two of them earlier in the stay before I knew what they were.

So this post is partly a PSA, and partly my confession that I may have accidentally turned a tiny bug into a tiny biological paint marker. Not my proudest fatherhood side quest.

Should I Blame the Airbnb Host?

Personally, I do not think this is a case for naming and shaming the Airbnb host.

We booked two apartments opposite each other because we were travelling as a large group. Both units were well furnished, and the host was responsive throughout our stay.

From what I later read, rove beetles can become more common during wet or rainy seasons in parts of Vietnam. They are attracted to light and may enter homes and apartments even when people are generally careful. In our case, the apartment was on the 17th floor and the windows were shut, yet we still saw multiple beetles indoors.

When I informed the host, he offered to reimburse our medical bill. I told him we had travel insurance, but I appreciated the gesture. He also quickly sent someone to apply pest repellent around the windows and balcony areas.

To me, that showed responsibility.

So this is not a “bad Airbnb” post. It is more of a “tourists should know this tiny insect exists” post.

Because if you see one of these beetles and react the wrong way, you may make things worse without realising it.

What Rove Beetles Look Like

The rove beetles we saw were small and narrow-bodied, with a distinctive colour pattern: dark head, orange/red body sections, and a darker tail end. They look a bit like an ant, a wasp, and a tiny villain from an insect anime all merged together.

Rove Beetle in Vietnam (kiến ba khoang)

The key thing to know: do not crush them.

Not with your hand.
Not with tissue.
Not with a slipper.
Not with a random object that you might later touch again.

If the beetle’s body fluid gets onto a surface, and someone touches that surface later, the irritant may still transfer to the skin.

What To Do If You See a Rove Beetle

If you are visiting Vietnam, especially during wetter seasons, and you see a bug that looks like the one in the photos or video here:

  1. Do not crush it.
  2. Do not brush it across your skin.
  3. Gently blow it away or use a piece of paper to lift and remove it.
  4. If you think it touched your skin, wash the area with soap and water.
  5. Wash hands, towels, or clothing that may have come into contact with it.
  6. Avoid touching your eyes after handling anything near the insect.
  7. Seek medical help if there is swelling, blistering, pain, spreading redness, or eye involvement.

This is especially important for children because they may touch the insect, wipe their face, rub their eyes, or sleep on contaminated bedsheets without anyone noticing.

Symptoms to Watch For

Rove beetle dermatitis may not appear instantly. Depending on the exposure, symptoms can develop later and may include:

  • Redness
  • Burning sensation
  • Swelling
  • Blister-like marks
  • Linear rash patterns
  • Skin that looks like a burn
  • Irritation near the eyes
  • Worsening redness or signs of infection

Because the rash can look like other conditions, it is easy to misread it as a bite, allergy, infection, or even shingles. If it is near the eye, I would not take chances.

Getting Medical Help in Ho Chi Minh City

We brought Emma to Tâm Anh General Hospital in District 7 of Ho Chi Minh City
Get directions to Tâm Anh Hospital on Google Maps

If you are a tourist in HCMC and need medical help, I would also suggest:

  • Bring your passport or a photo of it.
  • Preserve and prepare earlier photos of the swelling and/or rashes to show the doctor.
  • Take photos of the insect if you safely can.
  • Use Google Translate if the registration counter has limited English.
  • Ask for a medical report and itemised receipt for insurance claims.
  • For children, eye involvement, fever, spreading redness, or severe pain, do not wait too long.

Travel Insurance Note

This is not insurance advice, but if you are travelling, keep all receipts and medical documents.

In our case, the Airbnb host offered to reimburse the medical bill, but we had travel insurance, so I preferred to go through the proper insurance route. This is to allow us to have smoother in case there are follow-up claims or further treatment needed for medical treatment when we are back in Singapore (yes, we’re still in Ho Chi Minh as I write this).

If you need to make a claim, remember to keep:

  • Hospital receipt
  • Doctor’s memo or medical report
  • Medication receipt
  • Transport receipt, if applicable
  • Photos of the condition
  • Photos or video of the suspected insect, if available

Final PSA for Tourists Visiting Vietnam

If you remember only one thing from this post, remember this:

If you see a rove beetle, do not squash it.

The beetle is not dangerous because it chases you, bites you, or stings you. It becomes a problem when it is crushed and its irritant gets onto your skin or nearby surfaces.

We were lucky that Emma was seen quickly and the situation was manageable. But it could easily have been more stressful, especially because the reaction was near her eye.

So if you are travelling to Vietnam, especially during rainy or wet seasons, keep an eye out for these tiny beetles. Shake out towels, check bedsheets, avoid leaving bright lights on near open gaps, and teach children not to touch or squash unfamiliar insects.

Tiny bug. Serious rash. Very avoidable lesson.

Unfortunately, we learned it the itchy way.

How a Tiny Galaxy Projector Fixed My Kid’s Fear of the Dark (While Travelling)

Howard Toh

Ethan is afraid of the dark. Like properly afraid — the kind where every shadow is a monster and bedtime turns into a negotiation. We’ve tried night lights, leaving the door cracked, the whole routine. They help, but they don’t fix it.

So when we travel, I’ve started bringing along a secret weapon: a compact, USB-powered mini star/galaxy projector.

It’s small — about the size of a deck of cards — and runs off any USB port (power bank, laptop, wall adapter, whatever). And what it does to a dark room is honestly kind of magical.

How It Works

This little gadget projects a rotating starry sky with a detailed, textured moon onto the ceiling. It covers the entire ceiling in a field of bright, scattered stars with a soft galaxy nebula drift across the scene. The colours are cool blues and whites — calming, not harsh — and the gentle rotation creates a subtle motion that’s surprisingly soothing.

Instead of lying in the dark staring at a blank ceiling imagining things, Ethan now looks up at the night sky. The moon is big enough that it feels real, and the stars keep his attention in a good way — the way a campfire does.

Why It’s Great for Travel

  • USB-powered — plug it into a power bank, laptop, or wall charger. No batteries to hunt for.
  • Compact — fits in any carry-on pocket or toiletries bag.
  • Familiar comfort — hotel rooms / Airbnb apartments feel less foreign when the ceiling looks like your own bedroom galaxy.
  • Works as a night light — enough gentle light to navigate the room without being bright enough to disturb sleep.
  • Great for naps too — the slow rotation and soft light doubles as an ambient wind-down cue.

Not Just for Kids

I won’t lie — I’ve used it for myself too. After Ethan falls asleep, the galaxy projection makes the room feel like a cozy planetarium. It’s genuinely relaxing to lie there and watch the stars drift by. If you’re someone who finds it hard to wind down in unfamiliar places, this helps.

Get One

If you’ve got a kid (or an adult) who struggles with the dark — especially when travelling — I’d honestly recommend grabbing one. It’s cheap, tiny, and the effect on the room is way more impressive than you’d expect from something this size.

Check it out on Shopee — Affiliate links help keep this site running. (Prices and availability correct at time of posting.)

Tupperware Malaysia Is Closing Too — And This Time I Saw It Coming

Howard Toh

Date: 2 June 2026

I’ve Been Here Before

When Tupperware Singapore shut down in December 2024, I was on holiday with my family. The email landed in my inbox with the subject line “Closure of Tupperware Singapore.” No warning. No runway. Just: stop everything, cease using the logo immediately, and figure the rest out yourself.

I wrote about that experience — the silence from management, the stock left piled up at home, the customers asking about warranties I could no longer honour. It was one of the more stressful chapters of my time as a distributor.

So when an email arrived on 30 May 2026 with the subject “Consultants Termination Notice” from Tupperware Malaysia, my stomach turned. Not because I was surprised. Because I knew exactly what was coming next for the people on the other end.

The Email That Says Everything

Here is the notice Tupperware Malaysia sent to its independent consultants, in full:

NOTICE OF TERMINATION OF INDEPENDENT CONSULTANT AGREEMENT

We write to you as a valued member of the Tupperware Brands Malaysia family.

Ministry of Domestic Trade and Cost of Living (“KPDN”) formally approved our application to transition to a new business model. As part of this transition, we are required to bring the existing Independent Consultant Agreement to a close.

This letter serves as formal notice of that termination pursuant to items 21 and 23 of the General Terms & Conditions of the Tupperware Brands Business Handbook, with an extended notice period of 30 days in place of the standard 7 days to allow you ample time to prepare.

This termination reflects no shortcomings on your part. It is a necessary step in our transition to the newly approved framework.

On 1 July 2026, the new business model will take effect.

In June 2026, you may continue to purchase and conduct your business as usual. All existing product warranties, customer commitments, and ongoing orders will be honoured in full by Tupperware Brands Malaysia. There will be no disruption to your day-to-day selling activities, and we remain fully committed to supporting you and your customers every step of the way.

Also, a Transition Guideline will be distributed to provide you with all the information (including further explanation on new contract requirements) you need to move forward with confidence.

During this transitional period, please be connected with your upline manager as they will walk you through the details of the new arrangement and keep you updated as things progress.

Should you have any questions about the content of this letter or wish to discuss your options further, please do not hesitate to reach out to your upline Manager or your DSMs. They will be happy to guide you through the process.

We are genuinely excited about what the new model brings and believe it will create an even stronger foundation for your business. We look forward to continuing this journey together, and to an exciting future ahead.

Thank you sincerely for your dedication and the trust you have placed in Tupperware Brands Malaysia.

The termination notice sent to Tupperware Malaysia consultants on 30 May 2026.

 

 Best regards,

Tupperware Brands Malaysia Sdn. Bhd.

The Language of Corporate Kindness

Let me translate that for anyone who has never been on the receiving end of a termination notice dressed in corporate optimism.

“Extended notice period of 30 days in place of the standard 7 days”

This is the line that floored me. The handbook apparently allows them to give just seven days notice. They are being “generous” by giving thirty. Thirty days to wind down a business some people have built over years or decades. Thirty days to clear stock, notify customers, and somehow pivot to a “new business model” that nobody has explained yet. The email mentions a “Transition Guideline” that will be distributed — future tense, no date given.

“This termination reflects no shortcomings on your part”

Of course it doesn’t. The consultants did nothing wrong. They sold the products, hit their targets, built their downlines, and trusted the brand. The shortcoming is entirely on the side of a company that has decided the independent consultant model no longer suits its corporate restructuring — after profiting from that exact model for years.

“We remain fully committed to supporting you”

In my Singapore experience, that commitment translated to an overwhelmed Division Sales Manager who stopped answering emails, and a directive to immediately stop using branding I had built my business around. I hope Malaysian consultants have a better experience. I am not optimistic.

What Happens to the Stock?

Here is the question the email delicately avoids: what do consultants do with the inventory they have already purchased?

Tupperware’s model encourages — and in some cases requires — consultants to hold stock. When the music stops, that stock does not magically turn back into cash. In my case, I was left with products I could no longer sell under the Tupperware name, and a customer base that suddenly had no warranty path. The email says “existing product warranties… will be honoured in full.” That is welcome news for customers. It does not help the consultant who has RM 5,000, RM 10,000, or RM 50,000 worth of product sitting in their spare room and no clear channel to move it.

What Happens to the People?

This is the part that genuinely bothers me. Tupperware in Malaysia is not just a product line. For many consultants — predominantly women, many of them running small home-based businesses — it has been a source of independent income, community, and identity.

You cannot tell someone to find a new livelihood in thirty days. You cannot tell them to “be connected with your upline manager” and call that a transition plan. The email reads like it was written by someone who has never had to explain to their children why the family business suddenly has a countdown timer on it.

Déjà Vu

Reading this notice gave me the same feeling I had in December 2024: the sense that a company I trusted was asking me to smile while it took something away. The phrasing is warmer this time — “genuinely excited,” “exciting future ahead” — but the substance is the same. The consultant relationship is being terminated. The business model is being upended. And the people who built that business are expected to adapt on a timeline that suits the company, not themselves.

I do not know what the “new business model” looks like. Maybe it will be better. Maybe it will cut out the independent consultant layer entirely and move to direct retail or e-commerce. If so, the people who did the groundwork — the home parties, the customer demos, the warranty claims — deserve more than a thirty-day heads-up and a promise of excitement.

My Take

I am not a lawyer, and I am not looking to start a fight with a multinational. But I have been through this once already, and I know what it feels like when the corporate music stops and you are the one left holding the stock.

If you are a Tupperware Malaysia consultant reading this: document everything. Count your inventory. Screenshot your agreements. Start talking to your customers now about what happens after 1 July. Do not wait for the “Transition Guideline” that may or may not answer your actual questions.

And if Tupperware Brands Malaysia is serious about honouring the trust people have placed in them, they should answer one simple question clearly and publicly: what exactly happens to the independent consultants after 1 July?

Because thirty days of “business as usual” is not a plan. It is a countdown.

—

I am a former Tupperware distributor based in Singapore. I ran a Tupperware-focused e-commerce business for over a decade. These views are my own, based on my personal experience and the communications I have received. I have no ongoing commercial relationship with Tupperware Brands Malaysia or Tupperware Brands Singapore.

My $1,499 Laptop Never Arrived — and Amazon Singapore Isn’t Caring

Howard Toh

📢 Update @ 29 May 2026

This story has since been covered by Zaobao and Must Share News, with both reports picking up on the Amazon OTP delivery failure and the consumer-protection questions around high-value deliveries marked as completed without the parcel ever reaching the customer.

📢 Update @ 27 May 2026

Someone from Amazon’s Executive Relations team has since reached out to me and assured me that the matter is now being immediately investigated, including the conduct of the driver involved. I was also informed that a refund and goodwill compensation would be arranged for the experience.

I’ve replied to request visibility into the investigation outcome — even offering to sign an NDA if necessary — because after almost a month of uncertainty, contradictory responses, missed callbacks and a police report, I genuinely just want closure and to understand what actually happened.

Thank you to everyone who followed, shared advice, offered support, or simply amplified the story. I honestly wish I never had to embark on this journey in the first place, but I hope the discussion around OTP-based deliveries and consumer safeguards proves useful to others.

Call log showing +65 3163 6827 called at 1:42 PM on 28 April 2026 I was home. I was waiting. I was ready. On 28 April 2026, I was expecting an Amazon delivery — an Acer laptop, S$1,499, ordered the day before. Amazon had told me it required OTP verification. You know the drill: driver arrives, you give them a six-digit code, they hand you the box. Supposed to be more secure than leaving a package at the door. At 9:03 AM that morning, Amazon emailed me: “Arriving Today: A one-time password is required for your Amazon delivery.” Great, I thought — extra security for a big-ticket item. At 1:42 PM, my phone rang. Local number. Caller ID: 3163 6827. (Update: This is a VALID Amazon Logistics number!) “Hi, I’m your Amazon delivery driver. I need your OTP to complete the delivery.” I gave it to him. Why wouldn’t I? Amazon had literally emailed me four hours earlier telling me a driver would need my OTP. This was also my very first Amazon order that required OTP — I had no prior experience with the process, and nothing in the email made it obvious that a phone call was a red flag. The call ended. My Amazon app updated: “Delivered.” Nobody came to my door.
The call that started it all — 1:42 PM, 28 April 2026. Caller ID: 3163 6827.

The Part Where It Gets Worse

I checked my IP camera. I checked my smart doorbell. I reviewed the footage thoroughly. No driver, no delivery person anywhere near my unit at the time of the call. I contacted Amazon immediately. Amazon’s own customer service confirmed two things:
  1. There was no delivery photo or proof of delivery recorded for my order — their own SOP requires drivers to photograph the package at the recipient’s door
  2. OTPs are only supposed to be provided in person, at the point of delivery, entered directly into the driver’s device
So to recap: their driver (or someone claiming to be their driver) called me, asked for the OTP over the phone, used it to mark the package as delivered, and never showed up. Amazon’s system accepted the OTP without any delivery proof. At 1:44 PM, Amazon sent a “Delivered” email claiming “Parcel was handed to resident” — a statement their own system generated automatically, despite no delivery actually taking place. And now I’m the one out S$1,499.

The Number That Called Me

+65 3163 6827. It’s a Singapore VoIP number. While it’s normal for delivery companies to use VoIP or in-app calling to reach customers, what’s not normal is what happened next. And think about this: how did the caller know I had an Amazon delivery that day? How did they know it required an OTP? How did they know the exact delivery window? A random scammer doesn’t have access to Amazon’s internal delivery schedule. And even if someone tricked me into giving them the OTP over the phone — the OTP alone doesn’t make a physical laptop vanish from Amazon’s warehouse. Someone with access to Amazon’s logistics chain had to physically intercept the package. OTP fraud explains how the delivery was falsified. But only someone inside Amazon’s delivery operation could make the box disappear.

Enter Amazon’s “Leadership Team”

I filed a police report on 30 April (F/20260430/7***, assigned to Ang Mo Kio Division HQ). I then called Amazon and demanded escalation. I was connected to a supervisor named Kyle, who identified himself as being from the “Amazon Singapore Leadership Team.” During this phone call, Kyle advised me to place a replacement order for the same laptop — the replacement order. He said the investigation and refund would take time, and ordering a replacement was the fastest way to get my laptop. So I did, right there on the call with him. Let that sink in: if Amazon truly believed the original delivery was legitimate, why would their Leadership Team supervisor tell me to buy a second identical S$1,499 laptop? Why would anyone who just “received” a laptop need another one? After the call, Kyle sent a follow-up email. He said he had “set a follow-up on my account” and “raised this issue to the relevant team.” He asked for “2 business days to get an update.” On 2 May, Kyle emailed again. He said the specialist team was “coordinating with Logistics” and — I quote — “discussing the best possible compensation we can offer.” That was 2 May. I never heard from Kyle again. I chased on 5 May. Nothing. I chased again on 7 May from a different email address. Nothing. On 13 May, I called Amazon for an update. The agent I spoke to checked my case notes and told me Kyle was supposed to call me back on 15 May. “Please be patient,” he said. 15 May came and went. No call. No email. Nothing.

Today: The Mask Comes Off

Today is 23 May. My second Atome instalment for the laptop I never received is due soon. I decided to check on my case status again. This time, Amazon’s attitude was completely different. The agent told me — coldly — that because I had given the OTP, it was no longer Amazon’s responsibility. Case closed. I demanded a supervisor immediately. I explained that Kyle was supposed to follow up with me. I asked them to stop passing judgement without actually investigating. The supervisor who took over was curt. Kept repeating the same line: you gave the OTP, not our problem. And then — she hung up on me. Three weeks of silence. Two broken callback promises. A supervisor who literally hangs up on customers disputing a S$1,499 loss. This is Amazon Singapore’s idea of “customer service.”

The Part Where Amazon Blames You

Amazon’s position, when you strip away everything else: “You gave away the OTP. That’s on you.” Let’s lay out what Amazon did — and didn’t do:
  • Amazon sent me an OTP email at 9:03 AM, priming me to expect a driver to ask for the code
  • The one warning about not sharing the OTP over the phone was buried below the visible fold in the email — invisible on a mobile screen without scrolling past product details, tracking links, and delivery instructions
  • This was my very first OTP order — a S$1,499 laptop, not a S$20 cable. Amazon threw a first-time OTP user into the deep end on a premium purchase
  • Their system accepted the OTP remotely without requiring the driver to take a delivery photo — standard procedure that every other delivery driver follows
  • Their system auto-generated a false statement: “Parcel was handed to resident”
  • Their Leadership Team told me to buy a replacement laptop — implicitly acknowledging the first one was never received
  • They promised compensation, then ghosted me for three weeks
  • They promised a callback on 15 May — never happened
  • When I finally pushed for answers, a supervisor hung up on me
Amazon has all the tools to investigate this: chat logs, call recordings, driver GPS data, which driver account redeemed the OTP, whether the caller number matches the assigned driver. They could determine exactly what happened. They have chosen not to.

What I’ve Done So Far

  • Filed a police report within 48 hours (F/20260430/7***, assigned to Ang Mo Kio Division HQ)
  • Contacted Amazon repeatedly across chat, phone, and email over nearly four weeks
  • Escalated to their self-declared Leadership Team (who then ghosted me)
  • Contacted Atome (my BNPL provider) — they said “pursue merchant resolution first”
  • Saved every email, call log, and screenshot
I’m not letting this go. S$1,499 isn’t pocket change, and even if it were — the principle matters. Companies don’t get to design insecure systems, bury the safety warnings, generate false delivery claims, and then hang up on customers who try to hold them accountable.

What You Should Know

If you’re waiting for an Amazon OTP delivery:
  • The driver should never ask for your OTP over the phone. Ever. If someone calls asking for it, they’re not your driver.
  • Don’t hand over the code until you see the box and the driver at your door. That’s literally the point of OTP.
  • If you’re scammed, file a police report immediately. Amazon will drag things out, and evidence degrades.
  • Know that Amazon will try to blame you. Their go-to move is “you gave the OTP, case closed.” Don’t accept it.
Amazon’s OTP system is only as secure as the process around it. Right now, that process has a gap big enough to drive a delivery van through — assuming the van actually shows up. Police report filed: F/20260430/7***. This post will be updated as the case develops.