Ask a Penangite to drive 20 minutes for dinner and the response is likely to be a long pause followed by a “wah, so far meh?”
On the other hand, for someone from the Klang Valley, it is likely to be “only 20 minutes? That fast!”
It is not about the distance. It is the perception of it.
In Penang, we are blessed (or cursed) with a compact environment. Everything is close by, until it isn’t. A longer than 15-minute drive feels like a cross-border trip.
Want to drive to Queensbay from Pulau Tikus? Better pack snacks.
We don’t mean to be dramatic. But with winding roads, unpredictable traffic, and parking spots as rare as a good char koay teow in KL, even a short trip becomes a mental burden. Distance here is measured in stress level, not kilometres.
Unlike Penangites, folks from KL are battle-hardened. A 45-minute crawl on the NPE is part of a normal day at work. In Penang, a 20-minute drive is enough to make us question our life choices.
The signs are all there. Penang is bursting at the seams with vehicles. As of late 2023, we had 1.15 million private cars, and 1.53 million motorcycles.
That’s more vehicles than people. With roughly 430,000 households, we’re talking about an average of 2.7 vehicles per household, an impressive feat, or a warning sign, depending on how you look at it.
That is why pavements outside apartment blocks are crammed with cars, the yellow lines ignored. With one vehicle per person, there are multiple cars per family. It’s therefore no surprise that the streets are bursting at the seams.
In Singapore, where the average is 0.56 vehicle per household, owning a car is like having a yacht. In Penang, it is a birthright.
Of course, we love our motorcycles, too. On the island, it is a secret weapon. Or the greatest traffic hack. Fast and nimble, it cuts through traffic like a knife through butter.
You have not lived in Penang until you see someone in office attire weaving between cars on a “kapcai”, one hand on the handlebar and the other a plastic bag of “bak chang”.
But motorbikes are a fair-weather friend. God forbid it rains early in the morning. That’s when the two-wheelers stay in the porch, and roads are flooded, not with water, but with cars.
You can practically smell the jam forming as you sip your kopi-O.
So, when people say the LRT will change everything, I’m cautiously hopeful. The real question is: are Penangites ready to give up their cars and bikes?
Honestly, it’s a tall order. Most of us live life on wheels. And maybe that’s why Penang has so many malls.
When people don’t like travelling too far, developers bring the action to their doorstep. Gurney, Queensbay, Carnival, Design Village, all neatly scattered across the island and mainland, so no one has to venture too far for air-conditioning, bubble tea, or a quick dose of capitalism.
In a place where 20 minutes feels like a road trip, malls aren’t just retail hubs, they’re neighbourhood anchors.
Even a trip to the “ottu kadai” (small sundry shop) often involves an internal combustion engine. But here’s the thing, not every solution needs to be a billion-ringgit train line.
Sometimes, all it takes is two people in bright vests.
At my daughter’s school, we recently got two volunteer traffic wardens from our parent support group to help direct traffic during morning drop-offs and afternoon pick-ups.
The result? No more double-parking or frustrated honking. Jammed up exits become clear passages. People move along faster, there are fewer illegal stops, and no more chaos.
To me, it’s simple … humans can do what traffic lights can’t. At least not the ones we have.
Which brings me to my next point. It’s time we stopped dreaming about traffic masterplans and start fixing what’s right in front of us.
Our traffic lights are stuck in 1995. Fixed timers that don’t care whether there’s one car or a hundred. Green lights for empty roads, red lights for congested junctions. It’s madness.
We need AI-powered, smart traffic lights that respond to real-time conditions. We keep chanting the smart state mantra and the Penang 2030 vision. If Google Maps can reroute me in five seconds, surely our traffic lights can figure out when to let a few more cars through.
At this rate, we should rename the Penang Transport Master Plan to the Penang Traffic Light Master Plan.
Yes, trains are great. But what Penang really needs right now are fewer red lights, smarter junctions, and more people willing to step up and direct traffic when it matters.
We don’t need a miracle. We just need movement, all in the right direction.
Predeep Nambiar is FMT’s northern region bureau chief.
The views expressed are the writer’s own, and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.
