By Dr Rahim Said
“We do not object to development. But we are opposed to haphazard or overdevelopment,” declared the President of the Bukit Damansara Residents’ Association, over coffee and kaya toast at a newly opened Hainanese café — one of the few things that has developed in the neighbourhood without protest.
I had barely taken a sip of my Nanyang kopi-C before he launched into the reason for this 5.30pm meeting on a wet, drizzly afternoon. “It’s your article!” he said, referring to my earlier piece, “Bukit Damansara — When the Rich Protest Progress” (yes, that one in Weekly Echo).
I braced for impact, expecting a polite lecture wrapped in neighbourhood civility. Instead, I was flattered — apparently, the whole committee had read it. It seems nothing unites Bukit Damansara quite like a perceived insult to their postcode.
“Why don’t you help us put some sense into those at City Hall?” he pleaded.
Yes, the age-old Malaysian reflex — when in doubt, blame DBKL.
So I asked, “This has nothing to do with class, right?”
“This is us trying to make sense of senseless development,” he replied. “Even in the most developed cities, there are low-rise residential areas!”
He’s not wrong. But in most cities, those low-rise homes aren’t sitting on multi-million ringgit lots with guardhouses, manicured hedges, and Bentleys and other German brands in the driveway.
The flashpoint? The proposed demolition of Wisma Damansara — to be replaced by two eighty-storey towers. The horror!
“Imagine two towers with an exit onto Jalan Semantan, already congested,” said the Vice President, who’s been on the committee for 25 years — long enough to remember when Jalan Semantan still had monkeys swinging from the trees instead of motorists honking from their cars.
They insist they’re not anti-development. They even take pride in “saving” Batai Plaza, keeping it to three storeys instead of the developer’s original 20. They also objected to the old HELP campus becoming another glass jungle, resulting instead in a charming cluster of upscale restaurants now enjoyed by the same people they once tried to keep out.
In fairness, their record of civic activism is impressive — unless you’re a developer.
They’ve fought off towers, preserved low-rise charm, and managed to keep most buildings under five storeys.
Bukit Damansara, it seems, is where progress goes for planning permission — and gets politely turned away.
Their gripe, however, isn’t without merit. “I don’t think DBKL has a well-thought-out plan for Jalan Semantan,” said the President. “If they do, they haven’t shared it with us.”
Fair point. City Hall’s urban planning often feels like a game of SimCity played by interns during lunch hour.
Still, what they really fear is the domino effect. Approve one 80-storey tower, and the rest of the neighbourhood could soon sprout matching beanstalks.
After all, PNB recently bought a green patch at the Jalan Duta–Semantan junction for a tidy sum. Having paid millions, they’ll surely want to build skyward too.
At the end of the day, the Bukit Damansara residents say they want a “balanced” development plan — meaning no towers taller than their patience.
“It’s not about class,” the President assured me.
Of course not. It’s just about keeping Bukit Damansara classy — by making sure everyone else stays down the hill.