A collection of expensive houses does not automatically make a beautiful community. Beauty survives where there is greenery, order, maintenance, openness and a true sense of belonging.
THE Court of Public Opinion sat again.
This time, the claimant was Madam Beauty, who accused the State, planning authorities, property owners, contractors and advertisers of systematically uglifying our cities.
Her request was simple: trees, flowering plants, clean walkways, open waterfronts, public parks, attractive buildings and properly maintained urban furniture.
The Director of Urban Development objected.
“My Lord, these are foreign concepts.”
“Trees are foreign?” Madam Beauty asked.
“No,” he replied, “but maintaining them may require foreign exchange.”
The court heard how beautiful buildings are hidden behind fortress walls, walkways are occupied, drains have become refuse dumps, setbacks have turned into markets, pedestrian bridges are neglected, palms are planted without maintenance and roads are commissioned without anyone assigned to sweep them.
Drone Camera testified:
“I saw mansions, My Lord, but I did not see neighbourhoods.”
Then Madam Beauty became Madam Memory.
She recalled growing up in the early 1960s in a community called Patience Has Its Reward.
Homes were separated by flowering hedges. Building heights were uniform. Every house had a garden and low fences. There were parks, recreation grounds and safe pathways connecting the neighbourhood.
“We were not merely residents behind individual gates,” she said.
“We were one large, happy community.”
What became of that beautiful neighbourhood?
Did progress preserve it—or destroy it?
Stay tuned for Part Two next Saturday, when Madam Memory completes her testimony and Justice Common Sense delivers judgment.
MORAL OF THE SATIRE
A collection of expensive houses does not automatically make a beautiful community. Beauty survives where there is greenery, order, maintenance, openness and a true sense of belonging.
