The hills have eyes.
And when they don't like what they see, they just shrug off whatever that's irritating them.
Like bungalows, mansions and condominiums. Like how we dust specks of dirt off our shoulders, the hills slump forwards or shake a leg or even stretch at times to relieve themselves of the burden of having these unsightly concrete blocks that mar their skin.
Here's something to chew on: why is that every time a landslide occurs, only the rich seem to suffer? Why is it that only the aforementioned forms of accommodation are always affected, and not some terrace houses or Kondo Rakyat?
Somehow, somewhere along the way, hillside lodging became the mainstay of the rich. From Bukit Tungku to Bukit Gasing, I seriously doubt there's any piece of built-up property worth less than half a million ringgit. It's now a given that if you want to get a place anywhere near a hill, you gotta be loaded, colloquially speaking.
Which explains why various state governments (Selangor more than anyone else) are loath to do anything. It doesn't take a bloody microgenius to deduce that building card towers in windy surroundings is a fool's task; the same applies to building huge ass stacks and blocks on the slope or peak of a hill. Like they say it here, memang bodoh. A simple Act banning any form of property development on hills would suffice nicely, a quick and effective stroke that prevents any recurrence of the tragedies that have been plastered with glee all over the newspapers. With one fell swoop, the state governments could have ensured that the Highland Towers disaster remains the one and only dark episode in building disasters.
But hey, why upset the apple cart; why rock the boat? Blood-sucking property developers are milking money, parasitic government officials are getting their fat grubby hands on kickbacks, and shameless ministers not only get to build testaments to their tainted gold, but also house their respective mistresses and unwanted children. So what if dozens of people and pets die? There'll be hundreds more who will be eager to sign the deed to some fancy apartment in some bukit somewhere; there's bound to be at least one chairman or politician or businessman who will be looking forward to his 50-bedroom villa, overlooking the sprawling masses.
So who is to blame? Well the roll of honour comprises state councillors, municipal councillors, DOE officials, property developers, civil engineers and last but not least, the homeowners themselves. Yes, homeowners, perennial victims in housing tragedies, but no less accountable. I mean, did they learn nothing from the Geography lessons in school? Have they never seen pictures of landslides in newspapers and books? Based on the number of apartments and houses sprouting on hill slopes like mushrooms these days, I guess they haven't.
And when they don't like what they see, they just shrug off whatever that's irritating them.
Like bungalows, mansions and condominiums. Like how we dust specks of dirt off our shoulders, the hills slump forwards or shake a leg or even stretch at times to relieve themselves of the burden of having these unsightly concrete blocks that mar their skin.
Here's something to chew on: why is that every time a landslide occurs, only the rich seem to suffer? Why is it that only the aforementioned forms of accommodation are always affected, and not some terrace houses or Kondo Rakyat?
Somehow, somewhere along the way, hillside lodging became the mainstay of the rich. From Bukit Tungku to Bukit Gasing, I seriously doubt there's any piece of built-up property worth less than half a million ringgit. It's now a given that if you want to get a place anywhere near a hill, you gotta be loaded, colloquially speaking.
Which explains why various state governments (Selangor more than anyone else) are loath to do anything. It doesn't take a bloody microgenius to deduce that building card towers in windy surroundings is a fool's task; the same applies to building huge ass stacks and blocks on the slope or peak of a hill. Like they say it here, memang bodoh. A simple Act banning any form of property development on hills would suffice nicely, a quick and effective stroke that prevents any recurrence of the tragedies that have been plastered with glee all over the newspapers. With one fell swoop, the state governments could have ensured that the Highland Towers disaster remains the one and only dark episode in building disasters.
But hey, why upset the apple cart; why rock the boat? Blood-sucking property developers are milking money, parasitic government officials are getting their fat grubby hands on kickbacks, and shameless ministers not only get to build testaments to their tainted gold, but also house their respective mistresses and unwanted children. So what if dozens of people and pets die? There'll be hundreds more who will be eager to sign the deed to some fancy apartment in some bukit somewhere; there's bound to be at least one chairman or politician or businessman who will be looking forward to his 50-bedroom villa, overlooking the sprawling masses.
So who is to blame? Well the roll of honour comprises state councillors, municipal councillors, DOE officials, property developers, civil engineers and last but not least, the homeowners themselves. Yes, homeowners, perennial victims in housing tragedies, but no less accountable. I mean, did they learn nothing from the Geography lessons in school? Have they never seen pictures of landslides in newspapers and books? Based on the number of apartments and houses sprouting on hill slopes like mushrooms these days, I guess they haven't.
No comments:
Post a Comment