Xu Na arrived in Singapore as a teen from northeast China. She came for school. At first, everything felt new and strange. It took her about six months to settle in. Slowly, she adapted. She discovered durians and liked them so much she used the fruit as a life metaphor: “Everything in life is like tasting durian. If you don’t try, you’ll never know what you’ll gain.”
Here’s a simple table summarising key facts about Xu Na, drawn from available sources:
| Category | Details |
|---|---|
| Name | Xu Na |
| Age at death | 47 years |
| Origin | Northeast China → moved to Singapore in her teens |
| Secondary & JC | Studied in Singapore; attended Anglo‑Chinese Junior College (ACJC) — won the national Chinese composition competition in JC category in 1997 |
| Undergraduate | Bachelor of Computer Science at National University of Singapore (NUS), graduating around 2001 |
| Postgraduate | Master’s at NUS (~2003) and then Doctorate (PhD) at University of Cambridge (UK) in 2008 |
| Research work | Worked as researcher at INRIA (French National Institute for Research in Digital Science & Technology) between 2009–2012 |
| Personal traits | Described as introverted, polite, intelligent; passionate about art/cooking; missed home deeply |
| Family & home | Lived with father in Singapore; mother died of lymphoma in 2016; family originally from China |
| Date & circumstances of death | She and her father were found dead in their flat at Block 324D Sengkang East Way, Singapore on 6 October 2025; father believed to have died earlier. |
| Noted quote | While adapting in Singapore, she wrote: “Everything in life is like tasting durian. If you don’t try, you’ll never know what you’ll gain.” |
| Possible issues | Former classmates note her mental-health may have declined after her mother’s death and she became more isolated. |

If you like, I can dig up more detailed info (public records, blog posts, research publications) and build an extended profile table.
School wasn’t easy at first. English was a hurdle. She scored C6 in English at O-levels. Yet she did brilliantly in other subjects. After three months at Anglo-Chinese Junior College (ACJC), she wanted to stay. Her English score made that tricky. She appealed with help from her JC mathematics tutor — and won the place. She returned to ACJC and shone. Teachers remembered her as bright, humble and hard-working. In 1997 she placed first in a nationwide Chinese composition competition in the JC category.
Xu Na pushed herself. She finished a bachelor’s degree in computer science at the National University of Singapore in three years, graduating in 2001. She later earned a master’s and then went on to the University of Cambridge. She completed a doctorate in 2008. Between 2009 and 2012, she reportedly worked as a researcher at INRIA, the French national institute for digital science and technology.
Still, home called. While working in Europe, she missed Singapore and northeast China. She liked shovelling snow in winter, but more than that she missed family meals and Chinese New Year at home. She blogged about her mother’s cooking in 2010; her blog was active until 2013. She enjoyed cooking, painting and posted her art online. In student life she joined Chinese language groups and played table tennis. After university, though, she gradually lost touch with many classmates.
Her family life took a hard turn in 2016. Her mother, a Singapore permanent resident, died of cancer. From then on, her father became her main support. Reports say the two kept mostly to themselves. Over the years Xu Na’s life narrowed to family, memories and small joys like food and painting.
On 6 October 2025, Xu Na, 47, and her father were found dead at their home at Block 324D Sengkang East Way. Authorities believe her father died about a month before her. The discovery shocked those who knew of her achievements and gentle character. It was a tragic end to a life marked by academic success, international work and quiet humility.
Behind the sad headline, Xu Na’s life had real depth. She was a scholar who climbed from a neighbourhood school to NUS, then to Cambridge and international research. She loved simple things — good food, painting, and memories of home. She kept to herself, but she left tracks: essays, blog posts, art and the memories of teachers and friends who called her sensible and well-behaved.
This story is painful because it reminds us that success and solitude can exist side by side. High achievements don’t always mean a life without hurt. Grief can change a person’s path. Sometimes it narrows the world until only a few things hold meaning. That appears to have been part of Xu Na’s story.
My point of view
Xu Na’s life reads like someone who quietly collected wins: prizes, fast degrees, a PhD and research work overseas. Yet the human side — loss, loneliness, grief — is what connects this story to the rest of us. When a parent dies, everything shifts. People who seem the strongest can be the most fragile. That isn’t a failing; it’s human.
We should take two simple lessons from this. First: check on one another. A short message, a food drop, a call — these things matter. Second: when someone achieves a lot, praise the wins, sure, but also ask: how are you doing? Achievement and mental well-being are not the same thing.
If anything good can come from this sad news, let it be that we notice the people around us. Reach out. Offer practical help. Share a meal. Sometimes that is the durian moment — you have to try.
Remembering Xu Na
She kept her achievements private and her life simple. She loved durian. She loved family food. She loved art. She earned top academic honors and carried herself with humility. Today we remember those parts of her. May she rest in peace, reunited with her mother.






