A Failing Golf Course Takes a Last Swing—But the Community Barely Notices
Granite Pointe President Am Naqvi addresses members during the golf course’s 2019 AGM. The meeting followed a land sale that brought the course out of debt. (Photo: Bob Keating, Nelson Star – Granite Pointe golf course out of debt following land sale)
Hallō’s vision for a “luxury resort community” was first made public in a 2024 Globe & Mail article—news that stunned many locals who had no prior knowledge of such plans.
Yet, the foundation for this plan was quietly set in motion years earlier.
Granite Pointe President Am Naqvi addresses members during the golf course’s 2019 AGM. The meeting followed a land sale that brought the course out of debt. (Photo: Bob Keating, Nelson Star – Granite Pointe golf course out of debt following land sale)
A Lackluster AGM
At the 2019 Granite Pointe Golf Club AGM, attendance was dismal: just 36 people—less than one-third of one percent of Nelson’s population—were present for what should have been a major discussion about the golf course’s future.
Apathy from golf members? Perhaps. The low turnout certainly reflected a waning interest in Granite Pointe’s fate. However, for the wider community, this was likely a case of not knowing what was at stake.
Behind closed doors, a deal had already been struck with Hallō. Members who did show up knew that Granite Pointe President Am Naqvi would be presenting the details, but even among them, engagement was minimal.
If more Nelsonites understood that the golf course was being primed for a high-end resort rather than moderate-density housing, this meeting—and the following decisions—might have played out very differently.
But the broader public remained largely unaware of the dramatic scope of the plans—until they were unveiled in late 2024 as a polished media narrative, framed as though they had always been inevitable.
A Development Hidden in Plain Sight
This wasn’t just a case of a passive public—it appears to have been a calculated lack of transparency.
For years, Nelsonites understood that some form of housing would be built at Granite Pointe.
There was precedent for this. Three times before, parcels of land formerly owned by the golf course had been developed into modest, medium-density housing—The Villas in 2010, The View in 2012, and The Crossing in 2014.
So when news spread of yet another housing project, most assumed it would be more of the same. No one suspected it was actually a plan for a high-end resort community.
But that wasn’t by accident.
Rather than being upfront about the true nature of the project, the Golf Society and Hallō’s backers carefully controlled the narrative. They framed it as a residential development, a phrase that suggested moderate-density housing—something unlikely to raise concerns.
Behind closed doors, however, the reality was far different. Hallō, the Golf Society, and their partners—including architectural firms, PR agencies, and marketing strategists—kept their true vision under wraps. And for good reason.
By the time the broader community understood what was actually being proposed, Hallō had already secured the upper hand. In late 2024, they launched a carefully orchestrated media campaign, framing their luxury resort as established, inevitable, and too far along to stop.
Had Nelson residents been given the complete picture earlier, the opposition would have taken shape long before Hallō could build momentum. Instead, the developers strategically obscured their intentions, using vague language, selective engagement, and deliberate timing to ensure that—when the truth was finally revealed—it was orchestrated to feel like it was already a foregone conclusion.
Who Really Benefits?
What makes this even more concerning is that—aside from the developers—the entire scheme serves only a small fraction of Nelson’s population: those determined to keep the golf course afloat, no matter the cost.
Meanwhile, the wider public—who might have opposed these plans—was largely left out of the conversation.
This raises serious questions about how much transparency there was in the early planning stages.
Some Granite Pointe members appear to be operating under the logic that: “Nelson needs a golf course to be a worthy community. Maybe I won’t be able to afford to use it anymore, but at least Nelson will have it!”
But at what cost?
- At the cost of affordable housing opportunities for real residents?
- At the cost of the environment, as logging and development encroach on wildlife habitat?
- At the cost of turning Nelson into another luxury playground for the wealthy?
- At the cost of a divided and acrimonious community?
Granite Pointe members should ask themselves: if the golf course can only survive by becoming a luxury resort that prices out and excludes the very community it claims to serve, is it truly worth saving?
Troon’s Involvement Raises New Questions
In early 2024, Granite Pointe entered into a management agreement with Troon Golf, a global golf resort operator with a history of managing exclusive, high-end courses.
Troon’s involvement immediately raised eyebrows. The company’s standard business model focuses on attracting affluent clientele, increasing membership fees, and restructuring courses to cater to a high-end market—often at the expense of existing community accessibility.
Within months of taking over, Troon announced a drastic change: membership fees were set to rise significantly, climbing past $3,000 per year. This shift signaled a clear departure from Granite Pointe’s previous model, which had long struggled to maintain affordable rates for local golfers.
While Hallō and Granite Pointe insist that this partnership will “revitalize” the course, the real outcome seems less about community benefit and more about positioning the golf course as an elite amenity for future resort residents and visitors.
By bringing in a firm known for high-end, privatized golf operations, Granite Pointe has sent a message: the future of the course—and by extension, the Hallō project—isn’t about Nelson’s broader public, but about attracting a wealthier class of investors and golfers.
The Bigger Picture
Nelson isn’t alone in facing this kind of transformation.
Across Canada, small communities are seeing their character change as outside investors and developers target scenic locations for luxury projects.
But these ambitious schemes do not always work out.
We've seen multiple cases in BC alone where high-end resorts fail to deliver on their promised economic benefits. Nearby businesses—restaurants, boutiques, and others—struggle to stay afloat. Meanwhile, the resorts are repeatedly sold between disinterested corporations with no real stake in the community. In the end, locals lose valuable land but gain little in return.