If my ammama (grandmother) was here, alive, she would have said, “Aiyoo! Where have all the trees gone?”

Before the 'toot' 'toot' from the tractors, 'bah dum' 'bah dum' from the excavators, and 'dhom' 'dhom' from the piling rigs, I used to wake up to heavily clothed green trees, the fresh dew smell and chatty birds chirping away from its beautifully hanging nest.

Now, I wake up to man-made sounds blazing in my ears. I inhale dust. My eyes feel the glare of the sun. The combination of the dry, naked soil and the blazing sun emits a heatwave that burns my skin, my eyes, and my heart.

They say, “Malaysia kalau panas, panas gila babi. Hujan, hujan gila babi.” (Malaysia, if hot, is hot as hell. If it rains, it rains buckets.) There is no in-between. Have you ever considered why? Because we ravage trees from their roots! Never mind me, but generations after me… They don’t deserve this!