There was a time in my life when I thought we had found our forever home. A place where we could settle down, where us four sisters could grow up, and one day bring our children back to that home -- a place they could call their “kampung.” For the sake of this story, I’ll call this neighbourhood Moongate.
We moved into Moongate when I was seven. Before that, we were always KL people. It was a new neighbourhood for us, and Kajang in general was unfamiliar. But Moongate became home for most of my childhood. I grew up there and made so many momentous, lasting memories playing with the neighbourhood kids.
At the time, Kajang was still developing. An outskirt town that felt far and removed from the KL I knew. But the neighbours made us feel welcomed from the very first day. I remember even before we officially moved in, we’d spend our weekends cleaning the house or supervising renovations. We would see the kids playing in the streets. They’d watch us curiously as we were the 'outsiders'. Their mothers would come introduce themselves to my parents, and they were all so warm, friendly, and welcoming right from the start.
The memories I have from those ten years in Moongate will never leave me. School holidays were the best. We spent every weeknight and weekend outside playing. We made up our own version of Explorace, biked to neighbouring taman, and even camped (real tents and all) in my next-door neighbour’s one-car garage. I learned to play badminton, galah panjang, baling selipar, and so many other games. We were all trained to be active because most games were physical. There were more than twenty of us, all different ages but incredibly close. I loved those days.
Eventually, we had to move out of Moongate. I was seventeen, and to my own surprise, I wasn’t sad to leave. During those ten years, many things happened within the family, and I had grown to hate the house. I was ready to move on and start fresh elsewhere. We had all grown up, many of us had drifted apart, and it didn’t feel like there was anything left to miss. Since then, we’ve moved three times, even left Kajang for a while before eventually coming back. This town will always feel like home, even if the houses have changed.
Two weeks ago, we attended a wedding in Moongate. A neighbourhood kid I used to see all the time, now married. When was the last time you went to a wedding held in a neighbourhood? It’s such a lost tradition, but in Moongate, it’s still alive. I was left in awe of how everyone came together to make the celebration happen. They’re not related by blood, yet they are family. These are people who have watched each other’s kids grow up, graduate, move out, and get married.
It made me realise: this is what it means to be neighbours. This is what my family and I lost when we moved out. The people of Moongate are still as warm and welcoming as ever -- but I don’t share the same deep bond, the kind of found-family connection that they’ve built together over the years. I looked over to the house we spent many years in while I was there, the memories immediately played out before my eyes. It was nostalgic, to be back there. To be reminded of how I loved the people, the memories, and how much time has passed since.
