Our legacy to our future

This week was the first time in a long while since I'd taken the NKVE toll road that cuts behind Mont Kiara to connect to Jalan Duta and the Segambut roundabout.

I was stunned and shocked to see that to the left and right of the areas after the toll, where lush green used to be, is the devastating mark of development. And it's the kind of development that wipes out all traces of nature and any sign that there used to be abundant trees or wildlife. In its place are the ugly building blocks of man: concrete skeletons of the massive monstrosities that will be apartments, condominiums and shopping malls. Tower after tower, block after block and square after square of cold grey (or soon to be beige, cream or peach) angles and corners.

Gone are the verdant trees and the low brushes covereing the hillsides flanking the toll road. Instead of fresh cool greenery absorbing the sunlight will be hard angles reflecting and deflecting the sun.

A friend told me that area was supposed to be a reserved area; protected land that was to be a "green lung"; that was what it was until unscrupulous (albeit wealthy and connected developers) paid off corrupted government officials to approve building and land rights to churn out a profit.

Thus is the nature of Malaysians: short term gains for long term detriment. Because the people who are pushing the paper and who have the most means to make a difference cannot, will not see the forest for the trees. We take for granted what we have; we neither treasure it nor seek to protect what is rightfully ours to protect. We never give back in return, instead we take, take and continue to take. What's there is not just ours for the taking; it is there for us to protect and nurture for generations to come.

By the time we realise what we've been doing wrong and what we've lost, it will be too late. And those that will suffer may not be us, it will most definitely be our future generations.

As I rounded the bend into the road that takes me to the Segambut roundabout after the toll, a monitor lizard was trying to cross the road from the edge of the greens. It had just begun to amble across in its own lazy way that only monitor lizards can, with its tongue flicking in and out, when I passed it by. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that there were no cars anywhere behind me and sent up a prayer that the lizard would make it safely across and not be reduced to a bloody blot on the road in its quest for greener pasture.