Nobody is talking about it. And by nobody, I mean the people outside of the environmentalist echo chamber. I’m afraid by the time I get to dive deeper into the stories for a print version next year, there won’t be much of a story left to tell.
Perhaps one of anger and retrospect. But what good would any of that do? Sure, we have fleets of keyboard warriors and flocks of Twitteratis on standby, ready to lambast the latest wrongdoings of humankind. But what good would anger without action bring?
“Now is not the time to stand on the fence. Now is the time to take a stand,” says Suresh Kumar Balasubramaniam of human rights NGO, Suara Rakyat Malaysia (SUARAM) in the virtual press conference last Thursday.
I felt bad for the organisers because I only learned about the presser from a WhatAspp message from another artist friend. And, as the organisers had pointed out, there were only two members of the media in the Zoom call (myself and another outlet, The Vibes, I believe). As some of you who have been following this independent biannual print magazine, you’ll know that I don’t jump on breaking news beats. But this one is an exception. (And the only exception I will make [unless you’re an NGO, please, do not send any press releases here].)
This story is not “breaking”. Nor is it “news”.
Because the narrative of deforestation, to many, seems to be just collateral damage in pursuit of “development”. Another shopping mall that houses the same brands as the one next to it. Another empty luxury residence. Another failed development project. Another step towards monoculturalism.
And yet, here we are, making travel plans for when all this is over, perhaps to visit the Amazon forest someday, or the rice terraces of Ubud, or that jungle swing in Baños for Instagramification, when the real treasure is in our backyard.
For those who know and understand the effects of the removal of a virgin forest, I’m not preaching to you. But I am asking you to take the responsibility to reach out to your own networks right now, to share this with those maybes and the on-the-fencers. There are not enough of us making noise about this. There are not enough people even searching for this issue, as Google Trends have indicated.
“Now is not the time to stand on the fence. Now is the time to take a stand”
— Suresh Kumar Balasubramaniam, SUARAM
THE FACTS ARE ALL THERE — easily accessible, like this one right here, here, here, and here, free for your consumption — about the biodiversity that we stand to lose. Those conservation narratives have been out there for decades, for us to explore in our own capacity. But safe in our air-conditioned homes, it’s so convenient to gloss over “just another” environmental story and it’s far easier to ignore the families who are directly impacted by the removal of a virgin forest. The underreported stories of the North Kuala Langat Forest Reserve are those of the Orang Asli Temuan communities, who rely on this very forest to survive, be it back in 1993 or mid-pandemic.
“Why does the Malaysian government have to choose the Orang Asli area? Why not palm oil plantations? Almost in every case in Malaysia, it’s always the Orang Asli area,” says Temuan artist, Shaq Koyok. Anger fills his voice with every point made, adding that Malaysia has plenty of land that has already been cleared.
Indeed, we are spoiled for choice, from existing oil palm plantations to abandoned projects throughout the country, which have the potential to be reclaimed, regenerated and repurposed for the sake of economic efficiency.
“No one consulted us.”
— Shaq Koyok, Orang asli Temuan artist
SHAQ RECALLS SPENDING A LOT of time in the forest as a child, going deep into the jungle to collect medicinal plants with his father, the village shaman. These medicinal, ceremonial and edible native plants cannot be cultivated and will only grow wild in dense forests.
Until this day, the forest is a source of life. In the press conference, the artist reveals, during the Covid-19 outbreak, villagers, who were unable to work and thus, left with zero income, turned to the North Kuala Langat Forest Reserve for protein source and wild vegetables. “The forest saved them,” he says.
This is not the first time this virgin peat swamp forest has been credited with saving lives.
Samsul, from Kampung Busut Baru, recalls being relocated here, by the entrance of the forest, back in the early ‘90s. His old home is now right under the Kuala Lumpur International Airport.
Yes, this very same Orang Asli Temuan community who were uprooted from their homeland to make way for KLIA, where many of us have transited through without much thought.
During a site visit to his village back in August, he tells me that in his first five years of living in this location, none of the relocated Orang Asli families were given access to piped water or electricity. Thus, they were left to fend for themselves and relied solely on this very forest for survival. “I am really thankful to this forest. Without it, I might not be alive today.” But once again Samsul and his family are being asked to leave, for yet another development.
“There is absolutely no justification,” says Meena Raman of Friends of the Earth Malaysia (Sahabat Alam Malaysia [SAM]) commenting on the proposal of the degazettement and the development of this virgin peat swamp forest. She stresses that it should remain as a “community forest”.
THE NORTH KUALA LANGAT FOREST was gazetted in 1927. Like Shaq’s family and his fellow neighbours, they only learned about the proposal for the degazettement in the newspapers.
“No one consulted us,” he says, and recalls incidents of villagers being intimidated and offered bribes to relinquish their land rights.
“They tried to bluff us [by] saying that the Orang Asli don’t have any rights to this land.”
You have until 12 November 2020 to make your voices heard and to do all those things your elders told you not to do. To share your privilege. To speak up. And to help lift up the others by using your voice.
Here’s what you can do as an individual:
Online
Time required: TWO minutes (or as fast as you can type out your name and email address)
A two-minute investment gets you a two-click template, pre-written and automatically sent to dozens of MPs in just TWO clicks.
Offline
Time required: More than two minutes
For those who love snail mail and want to put in the extra mile from home, write a physical letter and address it to your local MP. It doesn’t matter if you’re a resident of Selangor or not. It is still your legal right to ask your state representative to listen to your wants. And if you’re really into it, call them. You should be able to find a public number on Google.
You have until November 12 to play a role in this change.
Yes, deforestation is a big, overwhelming, and sometimes paralysing issue. Yes, it may seem like our voices don’t matter as individuals.
BUT GUESS WHAT, if many of us speak up, if many of us are able to mobilise a nation to look after each other in solidarity in this pandemic, it’s time we took a stand as individuals, not for ourselves, but for the future generations. They — are the biggest losers — and we, as citizens, are robbing them of their rights to cultural heritage and traditional knowledge that they will only be able to experience through touch and feel. Never mind if you’re not an outdoorsy person, or if you’ve hung up your hiking boots, this is not about you. This is about what you can do for your community and the future generations of Malaysia.
MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN TWO CLICKS. (ZERO writing involved, I promise, except for your name and email address.) Tell a friend. Forward on the link via WhatsApp. You can do all of this from your phone. It’s doesn’t matter is you’re a resident of Selangor or not.
This is happening right under our noses. It has been happening for generations. And now, it’s closing in on us, the urbanites. Whether you have zero interest in bird-watching or couldn’t care less about herbaceous concoctions or the jungle-to-table culinary potential from this forest, it’s no longer about you.
It’s about what you choose to do that matters.
This is happening right in our backyard. Forty-five minutes from Kuala Lumpur.
ONCE THE CMCO IS LIFTED you can go see the forest for yourself. But for now, until you decide whether you’d like another development with potentially dozens of roundabouts, the same-same malls, and a ghost gated residential area in place of an ancient forest that could have very well been your next Instagram photo. And even if that is your reason to want to see this place, sign the petition.
I promise you, this is not something you want to lose.
FOR THOSE INTO DATA, there’s a score card to keep track of the names of the MPs who have taken a stand on the development of this forest. This accountability spreadsheet, managed by Greenpeace Malaysia, clearly shows which MPs are for the development, against the development and those who have no response to this issue. Check this report card to see how your local MPs are serving you. Remember, it is your tax money that is being channelled into their monthly payrolls.
And as you would make the effort to leave a review about being overcharged and underserved at a new restaurant, you’ll want to make your opinions and voices heard here — where it counts and where it will make a difference.
(Spoiler alert: if you’ve already taken the time to read through the existing news articles about the ‘what-ifs’ should this forest make way for another development, well, you’ll note that existing cityfolk will not be spared from additional flash flooding once this natural water catchment is cleared. )
Sign the petition here. You have until November 12.
P/S If in the very unfortunate event that our voices are ignored, our rights as citizens are violated and the forest is removed, when it happens, don’t go whining about this on social media if you didn’t bother to do anything about it today.
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