Wild enough? Rethinking nature at Rainforest Wild Asia
Inside Singapore’s boldest zoo experience yet — where immersive trails and animal encounters bring the rainforest to life. However, questions linger about what nature we’re leaving behind.
By Toh Ee Ming /
A free-fall jump through the jungle canopy that mimics a young bird’s first flight. A glimpse into the world of François’ langurs as one scales rugged karst walls along a via ferrata path.
This is what visitors can experience at Rainforest Wild Asia — marketed as Asia’s first wildlife adventure park.
Spotlighting adventure and conservation
Opened in March, Singapore’s fifth zoological park aims for a bold rethink of how guests interact with both nature and animals — one that blends physical adventure with deep ecological storytelling.
“Today, people seek more meaningful, authentic experiences,” said Mike Barclay, group CEO of the Mandai Wildlife Group. “They no longer just want to view animals. They are interested in understanding the broader context of each species, including its natural habitat, role in the ecosystem, and the challenges it faces in the wild.”
While Rainforest Wild Asia seeks to present a new frontier for immersive conservation storytelling, some in Singapore’s conservation community have questioned what is lost when man-made experiences are built at the expense of natural ones.
Barclay explains that the park draws inspiration from Southeast Asia’s national parks. This biodiverse region is home to many endemic species threatened by habitat loss and illegal trade.
Over 75 per cent of species at Rainforest Wild Asia are threatened in the wild, and these animals serve as influential ambassadors for conservation efforts. For instance, the southern river terrapin and Bali myna are critically endangered species supported through Mandai’s conservation partnerships.
Here, Malayan tigers help spotlight Malaysia’s MYCAT project, while the Malayan sun bear raises awareness of rescue and rehabilitation work done by charity Free the Bears.
Singapore, a major transhipment hub, has in recent years intercepted shipments of pangolin scales, elephant ivory, and turtle eggs. Locally, native wildlife such as the Sunda pangolin, leopard cat and straw-headed bulbul face increasing pressure from shrinking habitats and poaching.
Designing a living rainforest
The park unfolds across multiple forest layers — from floor to canopy and even an underground cavern — offering a multi-dimensional rainforest experience.
What sets Rainforest Wild Asia apart is its choose-your-own-adventure design. Elevated walkways offer leisurely routes for families and seniors, while more challenging forest treks invite the gung-ho to clamber over boulders and cross streams.
Still, some argue that this carefully managed experience, while educational, risks romanticising nature in ways that diverge from its raw, unpredictable reality.
Naturalistic animal habitats are central to the experience. Viewing points — from suspension bridges to ground level — mimic how one might encounter wildlife in the wild. Some enclosures even simulate predator-prey dynamics: Guests may spot a tiger across from deer, or explore habitats with rotating occupants.
One day, it might be a red dhole; another, a babirusa or bearded pig. This rotation encourages natural behaviour and sensory enrichment.
Mandai’s animal habitats are designed to support natural behaviours, with species chosen for their ability to thrive in open settings. Enclosures reflect each animal’s typical routines — like foraging or climbing — while positive reinforcement training helps with health and enclosure management.
The park’s largest habitat — an over 4,000 sqm tiger enclosure — features a waterfall, streams, and shaded rock crevices. A standout is the nearly one-km-long mesh-enclosed track that winds across several prey habitats, creating the illusion of a roaming tiger predator and evoking the tension and unpredictability of a predator-prey relationship in a real rainforest.
“While the trails offer a sense of closeness and immersion, invisible boundaries like natural landscaping, discreet barriers, and water features ensure a safe distance is always maintained,” explained Cecilia Tang, curator of animal care.
Rangers and the animal care team monitor behaviour to safeguard both animals and guests.
To preserve biodiversity, designers sought to protect mature trees on site. Over 2,000 native saplings were harvested before the park’s construction and later replanted. Tree Protection Zones were mapped around tree clusters rather than individual trees to safeguard ecosystems.
A particularly ambitious underground cavern system, inspired by Malaysia’s Mulu Caves, was created with expert collaboration and 3D scans for geological accuracy.
Elaborating on the measures taken as part of Mandai’s environmental impact assessment, the team said a specially constructed wildlife bridge over Mandai Lake Road has enabled safe passage for over 80 species. Construction was limited to daylight hours to minimise noise and light disturbance, and all construction workers received biodiversity awareness training.
Additional measures included a dedicated environment team from contractors (including an environmental manager, earth control management officer, ecologists and arborists) and a strict wildlife response protocol, supported by a 24-hour hotline.
A delicate balancing act
Still, not everyone views the development without concern. Even with its conservation messaging, the project has stirred debate about authenticity, land use, and what it means to protect — not just replicate — nature.
“Due to the number of developments across Singapore, the impact due to the loss of any wild growth area is cumulative and therefore of great concern to the Nature Society Singapore (NSS),” said Huang Ningxin, NSS’ executive director.
The site once featured grassy high grounds where sambar deer used to congregate in the evenings and was known to house species like the Sunda colugo, Sunda pangolin, and leopard cat. Several roadkills were recorded in the early development phase as the wild areas were cleared, she said.
Elsewhere, urban Singapore is also grappling with rising human-wildlife conflict amid shrinking natural habitats — otters raiding residential koi ponds, wild boars straying onto housing estates, and long-tailed macaques intruding into housing estates in search of food.
While “NSS would have preferred the area to be developed as a nature park rather than a theme park”, Huang acknowledged that nature conservation is just one of many competing demands in land-scarce Singapore.
She noted that NSS and other nature groups were consulted from the early design stages, influencing features such as the fully enclosed arena, eco-link location, and installation of colugo poles to mitigate wildlife impact.
Likewise, young wildlife advocates warn that the park’s carefully curated environment and “picture-perfect vision it needs to attain and maintain” risks giving visitors a distorted view of real rainforests, said Zoee Lim, 23, a wildlife photographer and fauna specialist with nearly a decade of experience in Singapore’s nature scene.
While the park introduces many to tropical forest environments they might not otherwise encounter, Lim stressed that real rainforests are “unpredictable, rough, (and) wild”, and it is these very elements that “make it special and so beautiful”.
Lim also sees a missed opportunity for children’s learning. Unlike a real rainforest, where visitors must forge their path through unpredictable terrain, she says the park’s paved trails guide visitors along fixed routes.
“This stifles your curiosity as you stick to what has already been created, rather than learning to create your path guided by what your senses tell you. Children learn best by exploring, but if you take that option away from them, they may never learn to grow their curiosity,” she explained.
Lim hopes the park can do more to highlight the ecosystem threats facing Singapore’s forests — along with the underlying causes. “At the very least, I hope that Singaporeans will start to question why the need to clear forests to build new ‘forests’ exists”.
Lim also questioned the broader message the park might send. The artificial setting risks selling “a false narrative” of what nature truly is and “may make people wonder — is this all nature has to offer?”
“To me, reforestation will never be as good as conservation,” said Lim. “Rainforest Wild Asia is man-made, and man-made can never be better than what was originally there. This is us rewriting history and erasing what was once here.”
Ultimately, Rainforest Wild Asia walks a tightrope between conservation and commerce. Whether it ultimately tips the balance toward meaningful impact will depend not just on design and intention, but also on how well it inspires curiosity, compassion, and action in visitors for the fragile ecosystems it draws inspiration from.