Whenever I feel a perverse urge to do something potentially injurious, I don’t head to KL Tower and Base jump using a bedsheet, or swing by Zoo Negara and slip into an enclosure of foul-mouthed parrots.
Instead, I take a public stroll. And anyone who has ever walked anywhere in Malaysia knows that in this country, perambulating is not conducive to staying alive — or at least, to remaining blood-spurting wound free.
Let me relate a recent brush I had with public walking to illustrate my point. When stricken by a ruinous bout of restlessness a few weeks ago, I decided to figuratively “walk it off” by literally walking off, embarking on an unambitious “sleepwalk” around a single block of my neighbourhood.
But each step I took heightened my fidgetiness, because I found myself having to frantically negotiate a veritable obstacle course designed by diabolical Malaysian urban planners to torment even the most agile of Olympian pedestrians.
Sidestepping, hopping, circumventing and tripping my way forward like a possessed interpretive dancer — all the while casting a wary eye at passing vehicular traffic — I grieved for walkers in this country (and felt relief that I had eschewed my Louboutin stilettoes for the walk).
I think I arrived home days later, broken and disoriented.
The basic pedestrian facility known as the “sidewalk” or “pavement”, in its truest form, does not exist in Malaysia.
Though they are commonplace and taken for granted in civilised nations, where they faithfully parallel and artfully interlace the roads and streets of cities, towns and even villages, in our country, sidewalks are but a WhatsApp-spread viral rumour.
What we have is the unique Malaysian “interpretation” of sidewalks — half-baked, minimalist, roadside flounces that are as short as they are difficult to find.
What pass for sidewalks here are comically-narrow, brick-filled platforms that are too high off the ground, uneven and randomly-situated.
For our added pleasure, urban planners decided to throw in streetlamps and utility poles situated smack in the middle of the pavement, along with mountainous Tenaga Nasional Bhd feeder pillars, steroidal trees with volcanic eruptions of roots, bulging manholes and errant garbage cans.
Malaysian motorists, who have always had it in for pedestrians, also do their bit by regarding sidewalks as default parking bays (because why not?) while motorcyclists gleefully consider them elevated superhighways.
What little space remains is taken over by territorial food hawkers and their undiscriminating clientele (the roadside equivalent of manspreaders).
And thanks to our notoriously-poor maintenance culture, the few sidewalk impersonators in existence tend to be crumbling, hole-filled, puddle-spangled, weed-covered abominations that pedestrians look at warily only from afar, as they choose instead, to trudge in gutters and dodge traffic.
Incidentally, I burn with embarrassment whenever I spy foreign tourists tip-toeing along our Petaling Street-made imitation sidewalks.
Above all, what gives me the “warm fuzzies” as a Malaysian ambler are the long, long, long stretches of NO sidewalk, where pedestrians are left to their own devices (and when seeking refuge in prayer is advised).
Worst still is what I call the “anti-sidewalk”, or “negative sidewalk” — canyon-wide open storm drains, or even raw sewage channels, with nary a grating cover — the bottom of which more than a few unfortunate pedestrians have come to know on an intimate level.
And although it is 2016, these PTSD-inducing travesties of development prevail nationwide, existing even in the glitziest parts of downtown KL, and the toniest stretches of suburban George Town.
So, the burning question is why, in a country with the world’s tallest twin towers, are sidewalks an afterthought?
As we steadily climb up the ladder of international livability indexes, why have we not hauled pavements up along with us?
Much emphasis is rightfully given to building world-class roads and railways for the sake of commuters and motorists — but are pedestrians to be run-over en masse in the process?
And don’t give me that concussion-induced hooey about Malaysians being allergic to walking on account of our calamitously hot and humid climate.
I have blissfully sashayed down the length and breadth of Singapore’s central business district — Singapore, closer to the equator than we are, and as hot as molten lava — like a boss.
In fact, I’ve pounded the pavements of many a sublimely walkable city — from Los Angeles to London, Sydney to Toronto (wow, action) — my perambulating ecstasy marred only by my burning envy over the fact that the luxury of aimless walking is denied to me back home.
You want Malaysians to be fit and shed our dubious distinction of being Asia’s fattest people? Build better sidewalks!
I’ll never forget how once, in a quiet suburb of Ottawa, Ontario, I watched in awe as a lone, motorised wheelchair-bound woman zipped along from block to block, breezily crossing streets and lanes like she owned the place.
In Malaysia, she would have face-planted trying to exit her driveway.
I am aware of erratic, piecemeal efforts being made to turn KL’s golden triangle into a more pedestrian-friendly (or at least, less malignant) environment.
But the handful of “yowzah” air-conditioned skybridges and efflorescences of tiled, bling-blinged sidewalks, bordered by overly-pruned shrubbery, seems like a desperate overcompensation — which, I also imagine, is prohibitively expensive to roll out beyond a few high-profile streets.
As a fettered Malaysian pedestrian (you may picture me as the international poster child for sidewalk deprivation), I’m not asking for much.
Just give me bare cement pavements that are smooth, sufficiently wide, sans obstructions, disabled-friendly and never-ending — and I’ll be walking on sunshine.
Jafwan Jaafar is an assistant editor in NST’s Digital Desk, who indulges only in solitary pursuits, such as brooding, marathon-napping and theatrical sighing