Narratives lost: whose stories shape Docklands now?

Cities speak. Sometimes through architecture, sometimes through memory. In great neighbourhoods, you can feel the stories beneath your feet – the echoes of generations past and the whispers of communities present. In Docklands, those stories are getting harder to hear.

What happens when a neighbourhood loses its voice?

Docklands wasn’t always silent. Once, it rang with the rhythms of wharf labourers, the knowledge of the Yarra’s original custodians, the laughter of partygoers partying in Melbourne’s sheds. Later, it held the hopes of those who moved in believing in a bold new precinct on the water – a place built for people, creativity, and community.

But as towers rose, stories fell away. We were told that progress meant vertical expansion, not cultural depth. That the promise of a vibrant, people-first suburb would be fulfilled once the buildings were complete. And yet here we are, with more buildings than ever, and fewer places that feel like ours.

Ask any long-time Docklands resident and they’ll tell you: it’s not that people don’t care. It’s that they haven’t been given space to matter.

From the erasure of Aboriginal and maritime histories in the public realm, to the sidelining of residents in planning decisions, Docklands has become a canvas that others keep painting over – each time with less regard for what came before.

The proposed Marvel Stadium development or the feared exit of the Alma Doepel are the latest examples. It’s not just about development, or football – it’s about whose presence is prioritised. Residents have voiced clear concerns: about noise, disruption, disconnection and the growing sense that they’re spectators in their own suburb. And yet, the story being told is that of economic benefit and entertainment value, not community cost.

When a neighbourhood loses control of its own narrative, it becomes vulnerable to exploitation. People begin to feel replaceable. Traditions can’t take hold. Local creativity, so essential to identity, gets pushed out. Public art becomes PR. Storytelling becomes branding.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

In the laneways of West Melbourne, on the foreshore in Williamstown, and in the arcades of Fitzroy, the community is embedded in the story of place. Docklands deserves the same. We deserve memory. We deserve voice. We deserve to shape the narrative of where we live.

This isn’t nostalgia – it’s justice.

To move forward, we need to reclaim our narrative. That means elevating the voices of residents, of small business owners who’ve been here since the start, of artists, elders, families, and newcomers alike. It means embedding story into design, heritage into planning, people into policy.

Because stories aren’t just nice to have. They are power.

Jamal Hakim is a Docklands resident and former City of Melbourne councillor.