But Sentul’s story stretches far deeper, one that traces back to the late 1800s.
When KL’s heritage is brought up, places like Brickfields, and Petaling Street usually come to mind. But Sentul played just as vital a role in shaping the capital’s history.
And now, one group is working hard to make sure this history is not forgotten.
Known online as “Sentul Then and Now” (STAN), the volunteer group uncovers, documents, and celebrates the neighbourhood’s legacy.
Formed in May 2023, the five founding members include Manjeet Dhillon, Choo Lub Hei, Fred Ooi, Joelynn Chin, and Dennis Ong.
Interestingly, none of them are generational Sentulites, but they’ve all made the town their home.
“I was born in Penang, but I moved here in 2005,” said Chin, 51. One of the reasons she chose Sentul was its excellent public transport connectivity, with the LRT, MRT, KTM, and more all within easy reach.
After leaving their corporate jobs, these volunteers found themselves crossing paths and bonding over a shared passion for Sentul’s past.
Sentul was once home to one of the largest railway engineering workshops in Southeast Asia, even building train parts to serve the railway network in India.
The Central Railway Workshop, built in 1903 under British rule, employed over 5,000 workers in its heyday. Fun fact: Today Sentul Depot is a trendy event space!
Manjeet, 50, added: “The railway workers were multiracial. That’s why you have Hindu temples, churches, Masjid Pakistan, a gurdwara, a Sri Lankan Buddhist temple, and even Kampung Chubadak, which was settled by early migrants from Sumatra.”
Since much of the history remains buried or undocumented, STAN’s work is about uncovering these forgotten facts.
Their days off include trawling through the Kuala Lumpur Library, flipping through newspaper archives, or interviewing senior residents. “Many road names have disappeared, so it’s very difficult and takes a lot of time,” Manjeet said.
Still, they’re determined to keep things factual. “We hope that our followers will engage with us and say, ‘Oh no, that’s not correct.’ At least that helps us to dig further.”
They shared that books like Guna Ramachandran’s, and Katharine Sim’s have also been of great help.
But it’s not all about investigative work. 62-year-old Choo shared. “Through STAN, I’ve made such meaningful friendships, especially when everyone treats each other as strangers in the city.”
STAN also organises walks, talks, and gatherings that regularly attract visitors from across the Klang Valley. One of their current projects includes mapping out past businesses along Sentul’s high street and eventually creating a digital archive.
The team has also managed to record places with deep roots in the community before they disappeared – such as Jude’s Kindergarten, which dates back to the 1960s, and Chop Sin Guan bar, a third-generation business that closed last year.
Speaking of the present, STAN is even campaigning for more bike lanes, and maybe one day, a Sentul tree.
“People ask us, ‘Why do you do this? Do you get paid?’ We don’t. But it has now generated interest,” Ooi, 58, said. “If nobody does it, all this knowledge will just disappear.”
Chin echoed this sentiment. “Even though I moved here in the mid-2000s, I didn’t think to take photos of the old railway station. And now, I can’t find any. Sometimes even locals say, ‘Wow, I didn’t know this was here.’”
Beyond Sentul’s history, the team also highlights current businesses, like cafés and restaurants, to keep the local scene alive.
For Manjeet, the platform offers something deeper. “If someone’s looking to move to Sentul, I hope they find our page and connect with the space. So they can say, ‘I live in a place with meaning.’”
And for Choo, it’s about the next generation. “Hopefully we can reach families and children to let them know what Sentul is all about.”
Their work is far from over. As long as there are untold stories, hidden landmarks, and curious questions – like who Jalan Haji Salleh was named after – “Sentul Then and Now” will keep digging.