Today, my dear friend Siti and a kindred spirit, sent me this video clip, amongst many others earlier; ever since the latest assault on Palestine. Forget about names like West Bank and Gaza Strip. Call a spade a spade as before 1945. It has been and will always be Palestine.
[Just like Semenanjung Tanah Melayu and not Federated Malay States, the Straits Settlements, and the Unfederated Malay States .... and many other 'creative' name plates given by the British to the Malay Peninsula.]
Here's hoping this posting will not suffer the fate of my previous posting 😓.
All I can say to dear Siti ......
Siti, I hate it, I hate it. The hypocrisy and double standards of the Western/Christian/Zionist Lobby is despicable.
There are people much younger than us today who will find this atrocious and unacceptable, and will dedicate themselves to giving voice to the powerless and afflicted.
But 30 to 40 years from now, I dearly hope they will not end up like me (and Iain if he is still with us today), holding their heads in their hands and crying out, " Why? Wny? When will this end?
You are much younger than us two - you will carry on.
In two days, at this time, Ash will be on the M1 on her way to Heathrow for another 13-hour journey to KLIA.
I have this album by Mark Lindsay given to me by my late brother Akim when I moved to Brunei in 1978 to earn my living and escape the oppressive world of teaching in Singapore. I remember this one song (though not my favourite) 'The Man from Houston'.
This time, on this journey which I have been doing since 1985 with Iain (at least twice a year) I will be treading a new frontier. From now on this will be a solo trip, just like when I departed KLIA for LHR in August this year. Just like some previous arrivals at LHR or KLIA I can depend on him to be waiting.
From now on, on every arrival, I will be wondering ......
why there ain't nobody here to meet me
I wonder why there's no one here to greet me with a kiss
tell me everything's all right
and boy I sure missed you
and please don't stay away so long next time
... and oooh I love you .
That's as far as it goes for me. The rest is for Shah,( my late brother Mus' son )for whenever he has to leave his wife and kids behind when he's away on Company Business.
Memories of Leicester to take back include the warmth, love and kindness of friends like Jackie and Julia, Jagdish and Punam, Deanna, John, at Leicester Animal Rescue, Naseema our neighbour and Mohammad and Moriom our good neighbour who live just next door, for Siti, a dear friend from Malaysia who, with her lovely daughters Sara and Hana came all the way from London to keep me company in Leicester. And finally, some last words from our dearest and kindest of friends - Colin Brooks.
A conversation with Colin, our dear friend in Leicester
Colin - my version
Iain's view and mine as well
On Sunday 15 October .
BW - Colin, can we make it on Tuesday after 3? Am dealing with Council and the solicitors for the Will.
COLIN - Sorry, that's the day I'm in Northampton.
BW - What about Wed afternoon?
COLIN - Yes, that's fine. What time does the Queen of the Orient command my presence?
BW - Afternoon at 2-3 says the Dowager Queen if that's okay with the Grand Vizier.
COLIN - Your wish is my command.
BW - I shall command the glass carriage to transport you, to avoid the Cycle Lane and leave a trail of horse poo for the Council to clean up for the gardens of the Green Brigade.
COLIN - I can remember ladies rushing out with buckets to collect horse poo dropped in the road by the milkman. Well not really the milkman, his horse! Perfect food for the rhubarb. The poo, not the milkman!
BW - We do share mind-boggling knowledge. Iain would really approve of this!
COLIN - It's amazing how conversation seems to distil down to good honest s**t! 😀
Yes I miss talking to Iain. He leaves a gap in life no one else comes close to filling. His wife isn't a bad cook though.😃
On Thursday 19 October
BW - A confession Colin. I ate 5 pieces of your Lindt chocolate. Yummy!
I recall what you said Colin; of saying goodbye to someone who is not there.
To comfort me , my late brother Mus (when he was still with us) reminded me of a quote from Wordsworth. "Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass ....... we will grieve not but rather find strength in what remains behind." {He was a strong shoulder for me to lean on, the last of the four most loved men in my life.}
Departed in 2023 - the last two of my most and well-loved men.
The strength is something I can sustain, but the grieving is relentless. Thank you Colin (and this I know he would repeat to you if he could) for being there and for being you.
Take care of yourself and look after your diet, England expects every man to do his duty.
See you in Spring, God be willing.
From the Oriental Queen of Leicester.
COLIN - Wordsworth's words recited by a Malaysian Malay man. What a wonderful thought that he used English literature to describe the world.
Grieving lessens but never fades. Ironically, without its presence we would forget those we love. So fortunately every negative event has an equal positive.
I too miss Iain. There was someting deep inside that I related too. I hope your journey is not too daunting and remember that England and Leicester awaits to welcome its Queen once again.
PS : The Brook by Alfred, Lord Tennyson for another Brook - the namesake Colin Brooks.
An extract from The Brook by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
"I wish I had more words to say for that beautiful man of yours, Ms Hamid."
Also yesterday, Dr Chandra Muzaffar kindly wrote this tribute to Iain Buchanan.
THE PASSING OF IAIN BUCHANAN
Thank you very much Chandra. He would have especially loved your reference to 'humane' and not just 'human' values. More and more we both realise that most of the time humans cause a great deal of damage to the planet with their greed and ethos of profit and enterprise. In being humane we include the protection and survival of our trees, rivers, oceans and 'all creatures great and small' but for Iain, especially trees.
Just a little slip. He departed very quickly, of a heart attack on Sunday 8th January 2023 while we were on the way to hospital.
Early this morning , I sent this photograph to Bride, my sister-in-law in New Zealand.
AsH Dear Bride. Here's Iain's final resting place with our favourite Banjaran Titiwangsa in the far distance."
Bride That is a lovely setting. The one with the flowers all over it? How are you doing Maz?
AsH Yes, that's where my maddeningly 'beautiful' ole git is enjoying his snooze before his Malay tart arrives. I am still expecting him to come downstairs, make me my coffee/tea. (he 's a fabulous beverage manager) albeit after getting an earful of cussing and threats. After that he will nestle in his rocking chair, gaze at the birds and tree-shrews and perhaps Mr Toad - in his unkempt garden, then shuffle about in the chair to settle Comot and Socks on his lap, pick up the mobile and get the news and lovely pictures of NZ from his crabby little sister.
Bride You're back on form Maz. Yeah! And I'll miss all those little calls asking odd questions I'd never have the answer to. I hope you can find a new equilibrium and comfort space.
I just sent these to Keith he asked if I'd sent to you. I have sent to Iain in the past (yes we have but he has tucked it away where I can't find it - because it's a handy tool for blackmail) but as he died on Elvis's birthday they are probably rocking' on down somewhere rather than getting on with the housework!
AsH Cool man! Reel cool.
Bride What a dude eh?
AsH Indeed! Your lovable, wacky brother, my beloved pain-in-the-everywhere and soul-mate and Keith's loving dude of a Dad.
Rock on sweetheart!!! We miss you but look out for bus number 104319 and keep the kettle on warm.
For the record, I am a member of that transitional generation that could sing God Save The King/Queen, Majulah Singapura and Negara Ku with gusto and pleasure and several dashes of pride.
In 1951 I was seven years old and at Pasir Panjang English School in Singapore. Here we were taught God Save The King (King George VI) - which, in 1953, became God Save The Queen (Queen Elizabeth II). In 1959, when I was 15, Singapore attained self-government and Majulah Singapura took the place of the British anthem. Came September 1963, Singapore merged with Malaysia and I added Negara Ku to my repertoire. Then it was back to Majulah Singapura on 9 August 1965 when Singapore was expelled and became an independent Republic.
But Negara Ku was never an unfamiliar, foreign anthem in our family or in many other Malay families in Singapore. The family of Abdul Hamid bin Jala/Jaleh never saw themselves as being Malay as defined by shifting politics - sometime Malayan, sometime Singaporean, sometime Malaysian! No. We were Malays defined by much more than that - by a shared history, a shared tradition and culture, and a shared religion. We were simply Malays, from an island and a peninsula in the one Malay world. BUT THAT WAS THEN!
It is hard to wean myself away from all those past anthems in my head and my psyche. In 1974 (when I was 30), my two native English companions had to pull me out of the cinema because God Save The Queen was playing at the end of the movie and I had automatically stood up to attention. Everybody else in the theatre were scrambling out!! How do you delete a song which which has been embedded into your head from the tender age of 7/8 years old!
In 2009, when I finally became a Rakyat Malaysia, as my Abah had wanted me to do since 1968, Negara Ku was not alien to me at all - it is like what my dear Emak would describe as familiar as "air mandi". But when I hear Majulah Singapura, I respond to it with a respectful nostalgia - as a Malay from Singapore. " Tempat jatuh lagi di kenang. Ini kan lagi tempat bermain".
That is a long preamble to my posting today - Malaysia's 15th General Election. I did my duty for GE 14. It is a duty that I regard with great seriousness. But I had to weigh my responsibility as a rakyat with my need to look after the health of 78-year-old AsH and her octogenarian spouse. Four months ago both of us had a bad dose of Covid, and the ramifications of that on our health and well-being and our work were horrendous. I looked to the spouse, to a good friend on our street, Fadzil and to Zaini a comrade-of-like-mind to help me to a decision. So, I shall carry on with this posting knowing that I will be risk-free, InsyaAllah, to carry on with our "vocation".
This morning, on our way to breakfast I took a few photographic souvenirs of GE 15. I should have been snapping the election banners before today when they were all glowing and blowing in all their splendour on those bright sunny days. There was an obvious coincidence of a predominance of blues - UMNO/Barisan and Perikatan Nasional banners in less well-off areas and in Malay areas. I noted more reds in the more upmarket residences. A caveat though - this is only what I notice in and around where I live.
What would my father (1910-1974) have thought of this and all other elections and the plight of his Tanah Air today?
Abah and all his friends had such hopes for their Tanah Air . I saw my father's tears when, on 31 August 1957, we were all listening on the radio to Tunku Abdul Rahman calling out "Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!" It was the declaration of independence for Persekutuan Tanah Melayu.
Jual sayor jual keladi
Dedala api chambah di-batang
Biar-lah hanchor biar lah mati.
Ta'mahu lagi di-jajah orang.
"Why are you crying?" I asked my father. "I am happy for my country but I also fear for her future."
Baju baharu kain bertekat.
Baju belah pakai kerosang;
Bersatu padu kuat sa-ikat'
Kalau berpechah di-makan orang.
Tanah merah tanah-nya liat'
Buat menimbun tambak negeri;
Antara pemerentah dengan ra'ayat,
Kebajikan umum hendak di-chari.
Looking at his Tanah Air today, Abah would once again be in tears - but now holding down his head in his hands in despair.
I have observed the political shenanigans going on in this nation for the past 13 years. I reckoned our "Malay-led backdoor government" did a remarkable job in pulling us out of the pandemic. We may not have been the best in the world, but we do have something to be proud of in the leadership and all the personnel that worked tirelessly for the country's salvation. For these personnel there were no rewards of titles, high dividends, generous bonus and profits for their hard work and sacrifice - only their sense of duty to their Tanah Air.
And yet, looking at the brouhaha and the innuendoes and the sleights-of-hand during this 2022 political campaigning, it is certain we have learned nothing at all after the pandemic.
Buluh betung puchok-nya rapoh,
Kuching puteh tangkap tekukur;
Sa-puloh pun jong masok berlaboh,
Anjing maseh berchawat ekor.
Every five years, we put up our democracy for show. We still believe in our rights and responsibilities as a rakyat of our Tanah Air. We have to keep on believing, even though :
Turun ka-sawah memakai tudong,
Padi di-huma layu lengkesa;
Sa-ekor sawa, sa-ekor tedong,
Bersama2 mengadu bisa.
NB. The photograph above was taken in 1952/1953. All the pantun were taken from Kalong Bunga Buku 1, DBP 1964 - hence the old spelling.
Abah, I have not left my country. I fear our country has left me.
The above comment came into my blog a week or so ago. I shall oblige as much as I can.
As for the the "state of the UK government", I think I have nowt to add. The UK's media, electronic and print, will be a better source than me. I only know the cost of heating this winter will go through the roof. But then, everything's gone up, hasn't it?
A dear Leicester friend signed off his recent email to us with "kujdesuni" and the spouse replied "faleminderit". Why? With 40,000 Albanians arriving as refugees(?), illegal immigrants(?), asylum seekers (?) in Britain this year from across the Channel in their dinghies, the Brits will have to start looking for Albanian-speaking interpreters. Unlike the case of minorities in Malaya, they will not be provided Albanian-language schools. But certainly words like "take care" and "thank you" (translation of the words above) will have to be part of the repertoire in schools, hospitals, job centres, social service providers etc. etc. in UK in the very near future.
BRITANNIA (DOES NOT) RULE THE WAVES!
Economically, Malaysia is perhaps faring better, despite the constant whingeing of the moaners and doom-mongers. And we always have them, don't we?
With regards to Rishi Sunak (Rashi Sanuk/Sunuk, according to Joe Biden), well, he's brought a lot of joy and pride to the hearts of India's PM Modi and many of its people. Even Indians in Malaysia (and local "other" liberals) are toying with the sentiment, "why can't we achieve the same, here in Malaysia?"
Just for a little quirky peek at the nature of democracy in UK (Malaysia, USA or anywhere else where "Democracy Rules OK") this image below symbolises the great reality of democracy.
Okay, Zelda Supreme, that should answer your queries.
Now to the nub of today's posting.
Years ago - as soon as I started blogging - Rockybru, a former student of mine, coined the acronym AsH frommy moniker "anaksihamid". Since then, commentators and readers of my Blog, and even friends, have referred to me as simply AsH. At times - and I feel quite chuffed - I am 'Kakak' or Auntie. Especially touching is when one of my readers, a professor, calls me "Cikgu". All we have in common is Leicester, my place of abode and where she spent some time as a post-grad student - and I never had the pride or pleasure of being her teacher! My former students from Singapore, including Rockybru, know me as "Miss Hamid." It should be Miss Maznoor, but then that's Singapore.
Hamid, of course, is my father's name, and AnaksiHamid means the "Child of Hamid".
Now Zelda Supreme addresses me with " Hi Si hamid " - the first time ever that moniker has been used. Well....perhaps I should clarify a couple of issues to some of my non-Malay readers and perhaps some Malays who have lost touch with the nomenclature of their mother tongue.
Firstly, this comment addressed to "Si hamid" will certainly get nowhere, because it is directed to my beloved late father!
Secondly, I think this will be an opportunity to narrate the reasons for my choice of this name for my Blog.
(A caveat: This is not AsH making a mountain out of a molehill. Most of my readers for the last 6-7 years - just over 90% - are not from Malaysia.. So, for them, I hope the following might shed a little light on Malay names and titles in the Semenanjung. Of course, a few Malaysians, too, might benefit!)
Why AnaksiHamid?
Why did I choose the name AnaksiHamid? After all, 'Grumpy old Woman' (GOW), or 'Wicked Witch of the East' (WWE) suits me to a T. But I am the daughter of my mother Kamisah and Abdul Hamid my father. My father has always been the example that I try to live up to and who imparted to me the fortitude and the guts to be what I am today, what I have made of myself yesterday and what I might be tomorrow, InsyaAllah.
However, in Malay culture 'si' is not a nice or kind word. It can be very dismissive of the the person referred to - it's almost a form of denigration and a term often used by a superior to an inferior. Basically, it means "that so and so", someone of little or no significance. At its best, it might bring an air of familiarity and perhaps a teeny-weeny bit of affection. But that is stretching its usage too far.
The impact of the word 'si' can be illustrated from a little story of two visits to my paternal grandfather's house at Sungai Buloh. That first was in the late 1950s, maybe 1958. We were in our teens when Abah (father) took us to Paya Jaras, Sungai Buloh to visit his late father's house. It was a huge, sturdy kampung house, on such high stilts that our family car could be easily parked under the house. We had a great time playing under the house and roaming about the sawah and the coconut holdings with our cousins. And I remember a kitchen which had a unique built-in waist-level rack for drying plates and other kitchen utensils. It was constructed in such a way that the run-off water would trickle onto the ground outside. I wished we'd had something like that in our Pasir Panjang (Singapore) kampung house - leaving no messy drips on the kitchen floor.
But I recall something else very vividly. In a group photograph on the wall of my Abah's father's house, I pointed to a man who looked very familiar to me. I asked, "Abah, is that you? He replied, "No, that's your grandfather". I gasped and said nothing.
We also met Macik S (Auntie S) and her family who were living in the house. They were not well-off and her husband, if I recall correctly, had no waged full-time job. They led a self-sufficient hand-to-mouth existence - a common condition of the Malays in the kampungs in the Semenanjung during the 1950s and even later in the 60s and perhaps to the seventies. Their condition was very unlike the sojourners in the urban areas who had the benefits of education, housing and health facilities, as well as opportunities for a stable, salaried employment. All we knew about Macik S was this ; she was adopted as a child from a Chinese family by my grandfather. Being his 'sister', she called my Abah 'Abang Hamid', a respected and affectionate term.
On our way back to Kuala Lumpur, Abah made a stopover at our grandfather's grave. The graveyard, unlike our graveyards today, was overgrown and uncared for. It was here that Abah instructed all four of his children not to make any claim on his father's house, land, padi and coconut fields; although he had also apportioned part of the land for "Tanah Wakaf" (land donated for religious use - for cemeteries, building of mosques, etc).
The second visit was made by my sister and her husband in the early 1990s, about 30 years later. When the two of them retired from teaching, they decided to use the time available to re-connect with long-lost friends and relatives - to foster the spirit of tali siratul-rahim (bond of good-will). They managed, after a lot of queries and searching to locate the site of our grandfather's house.
But the kampung house was no more. It was now a typical rumah batu (brick house) with fencing around it. Maznah and Haron stood at the gate and called out Salaam Alaikum. No response. They called again because they could see there was someone in the house. Another Salaam Alaikum and finally an elderly lady came out, reluctantly, to the gate.
My sister introduced herself and asked "Boleh saya tumpang tanya? Ini rumah Puan S? Saya anak Abdul Hamid dan ingin berjumpa dengan adik angkat Abah saya, Macik S..(May I make a little query?Is this the house of Puan S? I am Abdul Hamid's daughter and would like to meet my father's adopted sister, Macik S)."
Her brittle reply was " Kan si Hamid dah mati! (Isn't that Hamid dead?)"
It was now 'si Hamid' and not 'Abang Hamid'.
What did she fear to make her so contemptuous and hostile? We were not interested in the property and the land although we did wonder what happened to the land that Abah had set aside for Tanah Wakaf. Today Sungai Buloh, a thriving adjunct of Kuala Lumpur, has become prime land.
So that's the story behind the name of my Blog; of why I chose AnaksiHamid. This title is to reinstate the pedigree of a man who shunned his inheritance and decided to work, to struggle and to make his own way in life, for himself and his family.
His legacy to his two sons and two daughters was simple : "I cannot leave you land, money and property when I go. I can only provide you with the best education you can get. It will be completely yours and no one can take that away from you."
And Maznah, Maznoor, Mustapha and arwah Mustakim (in the baby buggy) are very fortunate and proud to be the children of si hamid.
Kamisah and Hamid's Four - 691 Pasir Panjang Road 1949.
Finally, to Zelda Supreme and others who may mis-name AsH, for whatever reasons; I hope this little tale would serve as a reminder to be accurate.
=======================================
I reckon President's Biden's comrades and most American citizens must have been quite embarrased when he congratulated the PM of UK and mispronounced the name of the PM as Rashi Sanuk/Sunuk!
When I was in Primary Six at Pasir Panjang English School, Singapore in 1957, we had to be able to fill in a sketch map of Malaya with various geographical details as required by the school syllabus.
Note the location of the resource-rich States of Perak, Selangor and Negri Sembilan, all "acquired" by the 1874 Pangkor Treaty. The marginal and poorer States of Perlis and the East Coast only had rice and coconuts - which offered little scope for profitable enterprise.
This morning, on our way home from breakfast, I made the spouse stop the car to let me snap a few more pictures of my much-loved Banjaran Titiwangsa. In my 1957 map, Banjaran Titiwangsa was known as merely the Main Range! What a put-down name for the backbone of the Malay Peninsula.
Banjaran Titiwangsa as seen on the road from Sri Rampai to Setiawangsa.
Banjaran Titiwangsa, if you can appreciate it behind the clutter of development.
Banjaran Titiwangsa and her magnificient limestone outcrops, again overshadowed by the ugly pinnacles of development and greed.
I shall savour such views of my mountain-backbone - but I fear that in 30 or 50 years' time or even sooner, "some rich men (will) come and rape" (2.42 in the video) those mountains.
From the age of 13 (Primary School), through my Senior Cambridge, Higher School Certificate and my degree at Singapore University, geography (and maps especially) has always been my favourite subject, yet nowhere was I made aware of how tin mining and the clearance of forests for rubber had ravaged the environment of the Semenanjung in the pursuit of profit and "progress". In the time of my youth, I suppose few people thought about challenging and criticising the desecration of the landscape in the non-western parts of the British Empire by the Brits and their compradores.
However, in one of my spouse's old books - "Illustrated Guide to the Federated Malay States" (1923) edited by Cuthbert Woodville and illustrated by Mrs H.C. Barnard - I noticed a reference, bland though it may be , to what happens to a valley as a consequence of tin mining:
A river valley dug, flooded, scraped and scoured for tin as noted in 1923.
When I got home, I decided to check "The Last Resort", one of my favourite songs by the Eagles. It encapsulates so much of what has, is, and will happen to the beautiful landscape of our Tanah Air.
The rape of the land of the First People (The "Red Indians" ) in USA was based on the ideology of the Manifest Destiny (referred to as "destiny" in the above song). "We satisfy our endless needs, justify our bloody deeds. In the name of destiny, in the name of God" (5.11).
As for Malaya, the violation of the Semenanjung's landscape was engineered by British Imperialism and powered by imported labour, merchants, traders and administrators from China and India especially after the Pangkor treaty.
Here is a sample of the instigation and drive to develop(?) and exploit (?) the resources of the Semenanjung
The Manifest of the Semenanjung's Destiny.
I was quite taken by this Youtube comment on the Eagles' song:
" .... a simple fact that no white man (me included) could ever love this land as much as any Native American, they fought for over 400 years to keep their home and we just kept pushing and pushing them......"by Robert Flor.
On the matter of love and respect for their land, can the bumiputra Malay-Muslim be compared to the Native American? Unfortunately not, I fear, despite Islam's teaching that we Muslims are supposed to be the Stewards of Creation :
"Cannot misuse all these natural resources beyond their immediate needs"
When we, in our arrogance decide to place our abode in locations that threaten and abuse nature .....
....... then we and others in the vicinity have to pay a price.
We desire (and developers are always happy to feed that wish and vanity) that our abodes be built on high land or high slopes so that we can get a much-envied exclusive view and establish that we have achieved high stature in our life style.
We desire such elevated locations because it will promise us high returns on investment.
We also desire such lofty positions because it ensures good feng shui.
So when I noted several banners appearing in Setiawangsa .....
...... I decided to look up the background of Bukit Dinding.
This map taken from the website Mapcarta shows the position of Bukit Dinding between Setiawangsa in the southeast to Wangsa Maju in the north. Bukit Dinding is 291 meters high, which is just a little short of a few metres to be classified as a mountain. A mountain has to be 1000 feet high (304.8 meters). It is a very popular spot for hikers and cyclists.
For the past six to seven years, we have seen a growing number of youngsters, both male and female ( almost 100% Malays) gathering on weekends and public holidays to hike along the path that goes up Bukit Dinding. Good for them, we said. Sometimes we can see almost 100 cars sitting along the road, as well as motor bikes and bicycles - all, as a rule, conscientiously parked. It is a sight worth remembering. So the preservation and protection of Bukit Dinding means a lot - not only to the residents at the bottom of the hill - but to these youngters enjoying a good healthy exercise instead of parking themelves in front of the TV or wandering around shopping malls.
I was quite curious about that route up the slope. So four days ago on a weekday afternoon when there wouldn't be any walkers this late-septuagenarian decided to give it a look.
Oh, how I wish I could turn the clock back to 53 years ago when at 25, with a group of NCC Officers, we drove from Singapore to climb Gunung Ledang (Mount Ophir), on the border of Melaka and Johor. Gunung Ledang is 1276 meters high. On the afternoon of the next day we got down to the base of the mountain and drove back to Singapore. The climb and the view at the top was awesome. It was worth every painful joint and muscle ache in the body.
Before I left for that trip, my Abah gave me this petua (advice). Do not pluck or break any leaf or twig or branch or flower on your climb up Gunung Ledang. Secondly, do not look back or anwer when you hear someone calling your name from behind you. Aaah, father knows best.
Oh Malaysia, you do not know how lucky you are to have all this natural beauty - to have all these hills, mountains, and forests, all these wonderful coastlines and rivers, to savour and appreciate. But I fear there won't be much of a legacy to leave behind for future generations if the present one does not make a greater effort to preserve what is left - places like Bukit Dinding and many others that are about to be turned to "Places where the pretty people play - hungry for power", see 2.30 in the video.
Remember this by arwah Usman Awang?
Bukit Dinding and all the surrounding areas were once - before the British came - a tropical rain forest. They were then sold or bestowed for planting thousands and thousands of acres of rubber. Then urbanization created new owners, and now these owners are allocating these prime areas for huge new housing developments.
This view of Bukit Dinding will be obliterated in a couple of decades or maybe earlier. Image taken from Malay Mail 9 Oct 2022.
This fate of Bukit Dinding as envisaged by the developer Nova Pesona.
Nova Pesona according to ctos .....
....... and Nova Pesona is a subsidiary of .....
..... IGB (Ipoh Garden Berhad). A corporate profile of IGB Berhad writes : it is "primarily a property company engaged in all aspects of the property industry. Its core business is in retail, commercial, residential, construction, and hospitality. The company also has investments in water treatment, information technology and data analytics and education.
IGB Berhad is one of the largest listed property companies in Malaysia with footprints across Asia, Australia, the United States of America and United Kingdom,"
As for Nova Pesona, according to the Malay Mail ( 9 Oct 2022)
From the Malay Mail , 9 Oct 2022. According to the Kuala Lumpur City Plan, large parts of Bukit Dinding have been designated for "housing" as early as 1983. Only the peak of the hill has been designated as a no-development zone. Nova Pesona .......... owns the largest parcel out of the five parcels carved out and zoned for "housing" there. All are owned by private developers.
I find it quite mind-boggling how such hills and mountains (let alone lowlands) can be owned by "private developers". It is like accepting that large parcels of The Great Wall of China or the Cheviot Hills or Yorkshire Moors can now belong to private developers!
But, there's no way that the Chinese and the Brits will allow themselves to be caught or manoeuvred into the same situation as the Semenanjung Malays faced all those years ago.
Hopefully, the campaign for Saving Bukit Dinding will not be regarded as just another Nimby (Not in my Backyard) attempt to preserve the sanctity of their homes at the foothills of Bukit Dinding - although these are certainly under constant threat of soil erosion where they are and any more pressure of "development" by property developers will exacerbate their situation. These residents are confronting a very powerful property corporation and hopefully DBKL will take a strong stand in choosing stability (for the hills and the homes ) over profit.
This campaign should be an eye opener, for Malays especially, that no more of the Tanah Pusaka - the hills, forests, mountains, sea-shores - shall be "pledged, hocked, pawned, peddled, marketed, mortgaged and auctioned ....... to the highest bidder and their middle men and agents - though all too often we still get shortchanged" (as AsH has said before!)
Despite Merdeka, despite increasing wealth, despite the investment in religious and secular education, Malays have succumbed to corruption, cronyism and nepotism and now as we can see at every election and proceedings in Parliament, they are scratching out each other's eyes for bigger and bigger slices of the booty in the name of the Rakyat and democracy.
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