In the past 35 years, billions of ringgit were spent to achieve this idealistic goal. A traveller sees much of it on a trip cross-country. There are excellent highways, and occasionally traffic on them is light. The billboards, in the national style, are the largest in the world.

The highway views are generally verdant and sweeping. Occasional scars indicate erosion of the yellow soil. An awareness grows that this grand accomplishment, still in process, is not without environmental consequence.

Other consequences are more hidden. Highways require contractors, and finding good contractors is never easy. Labour recruitment is hampered by a docility in the labour force requiring importation of foreign workers, primarily Indonesians and Bangladeshi. These workers are integrated into the fringes of society for the period of employment, and then sent home at project completion.

A few workers are intransigent, preferring to slip quietly into the undergrowth and live as illegals over known rigours in their homeland.

Viewed as roaming wildlife, these illegals fear only the odd tiger, or a chance meeting with indigenous forest dwellers, the Orang Asli. Problems arise when they are captured by rangers, and placed in wire enclosures awaiting transhipment. They have uniformed keepers who are a division of the national police.

Days are long and hot, and the keepers become bored, causing them to amuse themselves with taunting their captives. Stories which come from places where illegals are held, albeit temporarily (usually less than 10 years), are not permitted in the public media. Anyone attempting to alleviate the plight of the captives is charged under the Printing Presses and Publications Act as having disseminated false news.

The Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals is not active on their behalf. A kind woman who attempted to bring them aid was so charged, and her case attracts international attention toward how Malaysia habitually deals with a messenger who brings bad news to public awareness.

Malaysia has a large population of Muslims, pious people who are known for their universal brotherhood and tolerance of other races and religions. The captives are fellow Muslims. How does one explain the treatment they receive? Is this the price of highways and tall buildings? What kind of country are we becoming?

Where is the love of Allah, of compassion, of truth, of justice? Does the highway symbolise the death of conscience? Is this what becoming a developed nation produces? We need to re-examine our commitment. What an irony to find ourselves in a developed country no one cares to live in ... or even visit.

The highways lead to magnificent buildings and lakes where the Prime Minister lives. There is a park which surrounds a new palace he has built with the people's money. The size is impressive, though the faux Islamic architectural style disappoints.

An element of incongruity exists, as pristine jungle was cleared for this project, and around the fringes are the kampung, where people now receive water which comes to them through plastic pipes laid over bare ground to their tin-roofed houses. A tourist who comes to observe the exotic lifestyle of the Malay people of Southeast Asia finds this a stark contrast, and can only marvel at the mentality which allows this tilt in priorities.