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Once empty land between two cities · An electronics market, an octagonal prison, a borrowed battle name

District 10

For most of Saigon's early history, this land wasn't Saigon or Chợ Lớn — it was the empty stretch between them. What eventually filled it in is a mix of migrants, a chessboard-grid neighborhood built for revolution, and a night market where flowers and street food share the very same short alley.

History

Unlike districts organized around a market or a river, District 10 began as a gap — empty land that took over a century to fill.

18th–19th century

This land sits in the wasteland between Sài Gòn and Chợ Lớn, largely uninhabited even as both neighboring settlements grow into busy trading towns.

1833–1835

During the Lê Văn Khôi uprising against Emperor Minh Mạng — led by the adopted son of Bến Nghé's own Lê Văn Duyệt, whose posthumous punishment is remembered on the District 3 page of this site — imperial suppression leaves mass graves scattered across this then-empty ground, stretching from what is now Bình Dân Hospital to the site of today's Việt Nam Quốc Tự pagoda.

1899

The area becomes part of Chợ Lớn province, its favorable location between two cities gradually drawing settlers from the Mekong Delta provinces and central Vietnam.

1940s–1950s

The Bàn Cờ area, still dotted with unmarked graves at the turn of the century, fills rapidly with migrant housing as the city expands — thatched homes packed onto a newly platted grid of perpendicular streets, whose checkerboard pattern gives the neighborhood its name (bàn cờ, "chessboard").

1943

Construction begins on a new prison intended to replace the aging Khám Lớn Sài Gòn — see Architecture, below.

1 July 1969

District 10 is formally established under the Republic of Vietnam's Saigon Capital administration, carved from land split off District 3 and District 5, with four founding wards: Minh Mạng, Nguyễn Tri Phương, Phan Thanh Giản and Chí Hòa.

1972

A fifth ward, Nhật Tảo, is added — the name that will later attach itself to the district's best-known market.

1976

Following reunification, the district's named wards are dissolved and replaced with 25 numbered wards, part of a citywide standardization.

After 1975

Nhật Tảo, Hòa Hưng and Nguyễn Tri Phương markets grow into some of the busiest trading hubs in the city, drawing shoppers from well beyond the district.

2025

A citywide ward reform merges District 10's numbered wards into three new named wards: Vườn Lài, Diên Hồng and Hòa Hưng.

From royal names to numbers, and back

Few districts on this site have changed their internal naming convention as many times as District 10 — a small case study in how Saigon's administrative language has shifted with its politics.

1969–1976: royal and republican names

Minh Mạng, Nguyễn Tri Phương, Phan Thanh Giản, Chí Hòa

The district's four founding wards were named after a Nguyễn emperor, a resistance general, a 19th-century scholar-official, and a contested toponym — see Places to discover, below, for the tangle around that last one.

1976–2025: numbers only

Wards 1 through 25

Post-reunification administrative standardization stripped the named wards of their historical references entirely, replacing them with numbers — a pattern repeated across many of Saigon's inner districts at the time.

2025 onward: named again

Vườn Lài, Diên Hồng, Hòa Hưng

The most recent ward reform returns to named wards — Vườn Lài ("betel garden"), Diên Hồng (a reference to the 1284 Diên Hồng Conference, when Trần-dynasty elders were consulted before resisting Mongol invasion), and Hòa Hưng, one of the district's oldest surviving toponyms.

A prison shaped like the I Ching

Chí Hòa Prison, 1943

Built to replace the aging Khám Lớn Sài Gòn (the old colonial-era Saigon Central Prison at the corner of Lý Tự Trọng and Nam Kỳ Khởi Nghĩa), this facility is said to have been initiated by Japanese authorities after their March 1945 coup against French colonial administration in Indochina — construction was left unfinished when Japanese forces withdrew, and French administrators completed it afterward, importing most of its cement and steel from France. Covering 7 hectares, the building's floor plan forms a regular octagon, its eight sides and corners deliberately laid out to represent the eight trigrams of the I Ching — Càn, Khôn, Chấn, Tốn, Khảm, Ly, Cấn and Đoài. Seen from above, the design is unmistakable: architecture built to a cosmological pattern rather than a purely functional one, a rarity among the city's utilitarian colonial-era institutional buildings. The facility remains closed to visitors and in active use today.

Places to discover

Hồ Thị Kỷ flower market — and the snack street running alongside it

Hồ Thị Kỷ street, Ward 1

Tucked into an alley since 1987, this is the city's largest wholesale flower market, and one that essentially never closes — trucks unload fresh stems through the small hours, with the real rush starting around 10pm as vendors race to bundle bouquets before dawn deliveries. Running parallel to the flower stalls, the same stretch turns into a snack street each afternoon: from around 3pm until close to midnight, well over a hundred vendors sell grilled skewers, Cambodian-style noodles, fried quail eggs, sour soups and coconut-water balut, most dishes priced well under 50,000 VND. Few visitors realize the two markets — flowers by night, food by evening — share the same short street.

FITO Museum, a private museum of traditional medicine

41 Hoàng Dư Khương street, Ward 12

Vietnam's first private museum devoted to traditional medicine grew out of decades of personal collecting by Lê Khắc Tâm, a pharmaceutical industry veteran. Built as an antique wooden house — its frame reportedly transported piece by piece from the Red River Delta in the north — the museum spans six floors and eighteen rooms, with a hall honoring Tuệ Tĩnh and Hải Thượng Lãn Ông, historically Vietnam's two most revered physicians, alongside a wood carving listing a hundred notable healers from the 12th to the 20th century and a Hán-Nôm medical text collection running past 100,000 pages. One room describes royal prescriptions from centuries past, including a formula popularly credited with helping one emperor father 174 children. Visitors can try on antique physician's robes for photos on the third floor.

Two stories the guidebooks skim past

The mass graves beneath empty ground

Long before this land had streets or a name, it served as a burial ground for the dead of a rebellion. When Lê Văn Khôi — adopted son of the powerful Bến Nghé viceroy Lê Văn Duyệt — rose up against Emperor Minh Mạng in 1833, the imperial court's suppression was severe: those killed in the fighting and its aftermath were buried in scattered mass graves across what was then simply open land between the two cities, in a rough band stretching from today's Bình Dân Hospital to the site now occupied by Việt Nam Quốc Tự pagoda. The uprising and its brutal end are also remembered on this site's District 3 page, where Lê Văn Duyệt's own tomb was chained and desecrated by imperial order before later being restored — father and adopted son, punished by the same emperor, their stories now scattered across two different districts of the city that grew up around them.

A working-class grid built to hide a revolution

Bàn Cờ's checkerboard streets were platted for practical reasons — orderly urban expansion onto formerly empty ground — but their density had an unintended second use. Civil servants, nurses, teachers and small traders who settled here from the 1940s onward created a tightly woven community where a stranger stood out immediately and a local could disappear into the lanes just as fast. That same quality made Bàn Cờ valuable to underground resistance organizers during Vietnam's wars of independence and reunification, and the neighborhood is remembered today, in official accounts, as one of the city's storied "red addresses" — a place where ordinary residential density quietly did double duty as cover.

Four addresses around Nhật Tảo

Bún thịt nướng Nhật Tảo

~30,000–50,000 VND

245 Nhật Tảo street

Grilled pork over rice vermicelli with fresh herbs, at an address locals point to first when asked where to eat on this stretch of Nhật Tảo.

Hủ tiếu mì sườn Phát Lợi

~35,000–55,000 VND

Nhật Tảo street

Egg noodle and rib soup at a long-running stall on the same street that gave the district's electronics market its name — a reminder that Nhật Tảo was a food and market street before it became a byword for spare parts.

Ốc Mười

~50,000–150,000 VND

Nhật Tảo street

Snails and shellfish, grilled and stir-fried to order — one of several seafood stalls that turn this stretch of street lively after dark.

Bánh xèo Út Dung

~30,000–60,000 VND

Nhật Tảo street

Crispy turmeric-yellow rice crepes filled with pork, shrimp and bean sprouts, wrapped in lettuce and herbs — a Southern Vietnamese standard done well.

Getting there

District 10 sits just inland from both District 3 and District 5, typically a 10-15 minute scooter or taxi ride from District 1 depending on traffic. Its sights are scattered rather than clustered — the Nhật Tảo market area, the Bàn Cờ neighborhood, and Việt Nam Quốc Tự pagoda sit at different corners of the district, better linked by scooter than on foot.

Chí Hòa Prison remains an active, closed facility and is not open to visitors; its distinctive octagonal footprint is best appreciated from satellite maps rather than up close.

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