The on-going development unfolding in Kampung Chubadak in Sentul, Kuala Lumpur cannot be dismissed as a non-issue. It would be equally folly to deem the battle put up by septuagenarian ‘Opah’ Wahidah Salleh as a ‘politically exploited’ drama.

Opah and her husband must make a deep cut into our conscience. We need to see  the revival of our ‘Truly Malaysian’ soul if we want to be a nation that is ‘Truly Asian’.

For anyone who would have been born in Sentul and lived and grew up since the 1950s, would vividly recall the great oasis that kampong Chubadak used to be. A village of predominantly Malay dwellers, it was also home to tall and lush fruit trees - mangosteens, durians, chubadak, nangka, banana - name it and these were there in abundance.

A large and sprawling village Kampung Chubadak flowed with harmony, peace, quite and a vibrant village life of peace, laughter and great spirit.

But today in Sentul, we are left only with a concrete jungle - a maze of dwellings that architects try to carve out in a seemingly hopeless attempt to make Sentul a modern township that seemingly also includes a place for staged dramas.

We forget that we had every opportunity to turn Kampong Chubadak into an oasis of repose and even a tourist attraction. The very prime minister’s men lost track of their boss’ message of ‘endless possibilities’.

The humble Malay homes of Kampung Chubadak could have been transformed into an architecture that comes with a clear understanding of the needs of human feelings and in being most environment-friendly.

The people have lived there for over seven decades and weaved a deep sense of belonging - both amongst themselves, within themselves and with the very environment that they occupied.

But in the name of development we choose to bulldoze their dwellings and drive the people out. We claim and justify that if anyone stands in the way, he or she is anti-government.

We drive hard at telling all and sundry that the victims have been compensated with money. We scream that these citizens do not understand that they will now have concrete dwellings - though it may only be pigeonhole of about 600 square feet to call home.

What are we missing here? What is the siren call that villager Opah and her husband are sending into our souls?

Yes, development that disregards that human sense of belonging to space and time, memories and history will never enrich any society of people.

Not necessarily manicured and pedicured dwellings

Modernisation need not necessarily be pedicured and manicured landscapes and dwellings. It can also embrace beautiful villages that serve as an oasis of culture and times.

Just look at our administrative capital Putrajaya. Great showpiece; nice to drive through too. But do we notice how artificial and horribly distant it is to our living breathing souls?

And when we do have the living, breathing soul of a true Malay village right in the heart of Kuala Lumpur, we destroy it. We are so incapable of human transformation.

For us transformation is consistently a mantra of tear the old down; be practical; and make money. We call it modernisation.

Have we not heard of how the developed world is working hard to keep history, traditions, cultures and tested, proven lifestyles and dwellings much alive today? Have we not heard of the human foresight of leaders that makes Bruges in Belgium? Have we not, at the least, visited and lived in villages on the fringes or even nestled within Bangkok to appreciate the vibrant live of human endeavour?

Will we ever learn from our mistakes of trying to change originality and recreate makeovers as in the likes of now soulless Jonker Street in Malacca?

No. Opah’s crying in the rain must serve as a blessing - a stitch in time for a nation of leaders who are blinded by the messengers of modernisation whose only pursuit is success measured by ventures and monetary gains.

We must think outside the box. And to do so, in the first place we need to throw that box out in order to see that villages have a purpose and place in this 21st century.

Having a village like kampong Chubadak as it used to be, is an oasis to our soul.

So why are we pawning our souls in the name of progress?