STRONG WOMEN

These five run their own businesses, manage their families and never take no for an answer.

industry expertise, the second-generation leader saw an opportunity in the manufacture of Burmese teak furniture, one that would not just rely on the exclusivity of the wood, but impress with its modern designs.

Eschewing the baroque stylings favoured by the nouveau riche, Yong noted a shift towards minimalism that demanded the use of selective but high quality materials. Burma Teak Asia responded to this trend, marking the group’s first foray into the businessto-consumer market. A small side table is priced at $600 while custom commissions go upwards of $28,000, as in the case of a 2.9m conference room table built for a Chinese millionaire. Within a year, the initial capital of $500,000 Yong poured into the furniture business hit a 10-fold growth.

One could say that his business instincts were honed from a young age. As a teenager, he brought Muji stationery back from his travels to Japan, selling them to classmates for a fee or trading them for favours.

Tagging along on business trips with his father was also par for the course. “Dad let me experience the business world from young. I got to see different countries and the way [in which] they do business,” says Yong.

Some of these encounters still stick in his mind. At 13, he followed the elder Yong and his business associates to a karaoke bar. “I saw the girls enter and stand in a row. Then I saw my dad’s friend grabbing a girl. It was scary. In the day, he was a gentleman, but at night he became a monster.”

On observing the helpless state of the hostesses, Yong conveyed his sadness to his father, who cautioned: “If you don’t work hard, you will have to do things you don’t have a choice in. But if you do, you have a choice to make your life better.”

It is perhaps these lessons etched in childhood that drive him to grow, with the dedication of a constant gardener, the family business. Today, over 15 businesses – ranging from motoring to financing – sit under his purview. When he joined the family business in 2014, the headcount stood at around “150 to 200” while turnovers were pegged between “$20 million and $25 million”. Today, Yong oversees close to 600 employees, raking in a turnover of $58.7 million in 2019.

For the Anglo Chinese Junior College alum, the best, is however, yet to be. Last year, Evergreen was awarded the Financial Institute license by the Cambodian government – a milestone achieved by Yong and his team after they had spent six months preparing the requisite documentations for submission. According to Yong, the license enables the company to provide financing to corporate and retail customers, and operate in the micro insurance market. With the Cambodian economy sustaining an average growth rate of 8 per cent between 1998 and 2018, strong growth is projected for Cambodia’s financial sector, and Evergreen is poised to catch the tide.

But it’s not all talk about the money. At 33, Yong feels the need to give back to society, quite simply because “we’ve earned money from it”. In February this year, he founded Evergreen Foundation, dedicating it to humanitarian and environmental causes. It is still early days, but the foundation has set aside US$2 million to disburse healthcare subsidies in Cambodia. Talks are also underway with various social enterprises in Singapore and a foundation in Korea, a country whose siren song has taken quite a hold of him.

These days, Yong has managed to dovetail his interest in singing with an undisclosed investment in a Korean entertainment company. The 18-year-old him, who took private singing lessons from veteran Chinese chanteuse Pan Xiu Qiong, would never have dreamt of one day rubbing shoulders with K-pop’s biggest stars.

He even looks every bit the K-pop idol, with his porcelain complexion, perfectly arched eyebrows and wavy jet-black hair. And when he takes to the rose gold standing microphone (part of his in-office karaoke setup) to belt out a Jay Chou tune, it is easy to hear why the producers at the entertainment company have offered to cut him a mini album. “If we go ahead with it, I’ll have to lose 5kg, work on my singing and dancing, and maybe even go for non-invasive [cosmetic] procedures,” says Yong.

But personal stardom isn’t the end goal for him. The ability to network with Korean celebrities is still a means to an end for the growth of the business. “How many people can call top celebrities or singers to come for dinner or to introduce them as partners? That kind of connection or network is not openly available to all.”

An hour and three glasses of whisky into our interview, I ask Yong for his thoughts on being called an ‘Ah Sia Kia’ (a Hokkien term describing a wealthy man’s son). Visibly fired up, he leans in to defend himself: “When I returned from the United Kingdom, people used to call me that. But as time progressed and they saw that I was expanding and starting successful businesses not related to timber, they stopped talking. This motivates me to keep growing.” Indeed, to dismiss his achievements as a consequence of his father’s success, is to miss the forest for the trees.