OCTOBER 8 — When former health minister Khairy Jamaluddin took to the streets last Saturday with Bukit Damansara residents, it wasn’t just a protest against a 60-storey redevelopment plan. It was a cry against the slow suffocation of Kuala Lumpur — by congestion, inconsistency and planning without conscience.

Bukit Damansara, once a quiet residential enclave of tree-lined streets and single-storey homes, has changed beyond recognition whilst it quietly traded its gentle hills and tree-lined horizons for a skyline crowded with concrete.

This is not an isolated case but part of a long pattern of planning decisions that have chipped away at the city’s natural grace in the name of growth.

The proposed redevelopment of Wisma Damansara into two 60-storey towers’ plot ratio exceed even the limits of the Kuala Lumpur Local Plan 2040(KL 2040) Residents, including Segambut MP Hannah Yeoh, have publicly stated that the proposed plot ratio of 1:9.6 for Wisma Damansara exceeds the 1:6 plot ratio allowed for Bukit Damansara under the Plan.

Gazetted in June 2025, KL 2040 is meant to be the city’s blueprint for balanced, sustainable growth — promising green corridors, walkable streets, and infrastructure that keeps pace with density.

This new 15-year plan allows more space for projects that include affordable housing or houses that are located near public transit, while setting strict size and height limits to protect the city’s character and low-rise areas. Developers can earn a higher plot ratio only under specific conditions — such as redevelopment of old sites, transit-oriented projects, or those that integrate affordable housing.

It is, on paper, a thoughtful and flexible framework — balancing growth with liveability.

Nonetheless the test of any plan lies not in its promises, but in its discipline to implement without exceptions. Decisions cannot be quietly granted in the name of redevelopment. Residents’ confidence has been shaken by these exemptions by stretching the plan’s own limits — turning what was meant as a safeguard into a loophole.

The proposed Wisma Damansara project is a development that may exceed even these newly defined limits of KL 2040.

The deeper issue is one of planning integrity. Cities, like people, can only grow healthily when they respect their limits. In Bukit Damansara’s case, the neighbourhood doesn’t need another landmark tower.

It needs a pause.

Wishfully,  the Wisma Damansara site could be transformed into something the area truly lacks: an urban park - agreen pocket where residents can walk, children can play, and the city can breathe. Such spaces are not luxuries; they are necessities for modern cities battling heat, pollution and stress.

Kuala Lumpur City Hall (DBKL) and the developers have defended the project, stating that it complies with the local plan and includes redevelopment incentives. Over 300 households in Bukit Damansara have already submitted official letters of objection.

Around the world, city planners are rediscovering the wisdom of restraint from residents. Singapore’s LUSH (Landscaping for Urban Spaces and High-Rises) programme requires developers to integrate greenery into every project — rooftop gardens, vertical forests and public plazas that give back to the environment. Meanwhile, Copenhagen’s enduring Finger Plan ensures that dense urban growth is balanced with protected “green wedges” for parks, cycling corridors and community life. These models show that urban progress need not come at the expense of liveability.

A city belongs first to its people, not to its developers.  A few courts decisions have reaffirmed this simple truth such as in the Taman Rimba Kiara case where the Federal Court ruled that Kuala Lumpur City Hall had acted unlawfully by approving a project that violated its own structure plan.

Bukit Damansara now stands at similar crossroads.

The protest may have ended, but its echoes linger like the evening smog over Jalan Semantan — asking what kind of future we are really building. This is not a protest of politics or personalities, but a demand for accountability — a plea to prevent the quiet destruction of what remains liveable in our capital.

The question is not just about one redevelopment, but about what kind of city Kuala Lumpur wants to become — one that listens, or one that simply approves.

If City Hall listens this time, it will not just preserve a neighbourhood — it will restore public faith in a planning system that was meant to protect people, not overwhelm them. Because this is more than a zoning dispute; it is a moral reckoning.

DBKL now has the chance to prove that city planning is not about bending rules for profit, but about building trust through fairness. A single decision can either deepen cynicism or renew confidence in how this city is governed.

Every great city is judged not by its tallest buildings, but by how wisely it chooses to grow. Kuala Lumpur doesn’t need more glass giants; it needs courage to say no when no is necessary.

For in the end, even a city, like a country, must learn to breathe while it builds.

* This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.