Those who frequent Putrajaya would likely have come across Kampung Dato Abu Bakar Baginda. Although it is a largely Malay settlement first opened by Javanese migrants about 100 years ago, “kampung” is not really an apt description of the place. It is not quite an urban kampung such as Kampung Bahru or Kampung Datuk Keramat in Kuala Lumpur. Yet it does not have a rural feel at all. With Putrajaya, Bangi and Kajang just 5-15 minutes away (in fact Putrajaya is next door), it is a semi-urban area with modern facilities including well-equipped hospitals and the top universities just nearby. Petronas has an advanced training facility here too, where the current Cabinet sometimes holds retreats.
I came to know the place when I first worked in Putrajaya back in 2018. Coming from Kuala Lumpur on the way to Putrajaya, any commuter would pass it as they negotiate an underinvested junction into the Malaysia’s administrative capital. When the high-speed rail between KL and Singapore was under consideration, there was a plan to pave through the kampung, which drew local protests against the project.
As with many other places, Kampung Dato Abu Bakar Baginda and the whole area of Sungai Merab (which it was once part of and remains connected to) have their problems.
Traffic congestion is one big challenge, given how the place sits at the junction between Kuala Lumpur, Putrajaya, Bangi and Kajang. The road that stretches from the base of the Besraya Highway all the way to Bangi is simply not designed for heavy traffic. The main road is much too narrow, with restaurants and illegal parking encroaching onto it.
But the narrowness of the road is coupled with relative straightness. Many, frustrated by the congestion at the junction, would immediately drive aggressively by cutting queues and speeding down the road. There must have been some accidents before, given that speed bumps have been added in front of the kampung’s school and surau that hug the road to Bangi.
Commercial open burning is another problem. A kampung gives the idea that the air is clean but the reality is, most residential areas in Petaling Jaya enjoy cleaner air due to tighter environmental regulations. Even at the height of the recent haze, open burning continued, even though Putrajaya, home to the headquarters of the relevant environmental authority, is next door.
Illegal dumpsites are here and there, some being the source of the open burning. These sites exist because rubbish collection service is uneven. Residents businesses have had to find their own solutions where the local government fails. These places are usually hidden away the main road and the only real way to discover them is to drive along the small roads or fly drones.
Suspicious workshops are scattered around and I cannot help but wonder, if the sale and purchase of contraband metals take place here as train commuters suffer from service disruption.
Motorcycle racing happens almost every week. Very late at night, sitting at roadside restaurants, one would almost always hear a roar of motorcycle engines rising to the air and then going away, demonstrating the Doppler effect in the most socially disruptive way. This is potentially the reason behind frequent congestion-inducing police roadblocks near the entrance to Putrajaya. Drug use is another concern, although it is unclear whether it is worse here than elsewhere or whether it also contributes to the roadblocks.
Uncontrolled development and land clearing are other issues plain to observe, partly the result of unsophisticated local government and its underfunding. The result is erosion and mud floods in some places. The same uncontrolled clearing is forcing wildlife—long-tailed macaques, which are a threatened species but also wild boars—to frequent nearby residential areas and rummage through rubbish bins. Some monkeys have become road kills as cars zoom away, criminally unconcerned.
But if does not know the inner workings of Kampung Dato Abu Bakar Baginda but merely content to pass by on the way to Putrajaya, one would think the non-rural kampung’s biggest problem is the Rohingya refugees.
Large banners bearing inane slogans something like ‘Merdekakah kita daripada Rohingya?’ (are we free from the Rohingyas?) are hung over two underused pedestrian bridges. These banners, which have been up for months now, suggest that Rohingya refugees are flooding the kampung. To be sure, there are foreign workers from South Asia living in and around the kampung, working at various restaurants, workshops and construction sites. Are they Rohingyas? am not sure, but the difficulty of telling them apart from other foreigners means generalization going unchecked.
Whether or not one agrees with the message—I clearly do not, and the authorities appear to be turning a blind eye (it is hard to think otherwise, given that the road is used by civil servants, ministers and their officers)—a banner of such a racist nature should not be allowed to hang near schools for young children. These bridges primarily serve those schools and their pupils, and the banners expose the children to values we should not condone.
The presence of Rohingya refugees in the country deserves discussion and local concerns should be addressed within reason. But let us not pass the toxicity to the children.
The banners should be taken down, and the more pressing problems addressed rather than continually overlooked.
