DARO, July 3 — Every community has its stories and in Rumah Haliah, those stories are written in the river.

They are found in the routines of fishermen who leave before sunset and return only the next morning, in elderly residents who continue repairing fishing nets despite advancing age, and in families who remain connected to their ancestral home even after moving elsewhere in search of work.

While the river sustains life in the settlement, it also shapes the experiences of the people who call Rumah Haliah home.

Among them is 58-year-old fisherman Anding Madang, who has followed the same routine for nearly 30 years.

As evening approaches, Anding prepares his fishing equipment before heading out onto the river. Long after darkness settles over the water, he continues working.

Often, he does not return until the following morning.

“We always know his routine, so we are not worried much. Sometimes late at night, we see him floating on the river while smoking,” a villager said with a laugh.

Years spent on the water have given Anding a deep understanding of the river’s behaviour.

He has learned to read changing weather conditions, shifting currents and seasonal patterns that influence fishing activity.

The river rewards patience and experience. Yet, it can also be unforgiving.

A life on the water

Asked whether anything frightens him after decades spent fishing, Anding’s response comes immediately.

“If I don’t fish, there will be no food for me,” he said.

The answer reflects the practical realities faced by many rural fishermen. Fishing is not merely a profession. It is a necessity.

Anding lives alone. His older siblings have passed away, while his youngest sibling lives in the city.

When asked about dangers associated with fishing, he speaks calmly.

“I have nothing to fear. I respect traditional beliefs and avoid unnecessary actions, which help provide me with peace of mind,” he said.

Such perspectives continue to influence many communities throughout rural Sarawak, where traditional knowledge, belief and cultural values remain deeply rooted.

Life on the river requires courage, but it also requires acceptance.

Residents of Rumah Haliah live alongside one of the river’s most feared inhabitants: crocodiles. 

According to villagers, crocodile sightings are common, especially during periods of low tide.

Navigating danger

For many residents, encounters with crocodiles have become a familiar part of life.

Sepani Umping Liang, a 32-years-old fisherman, understands the relationship between dependence and danger of the river perhaps better than most.

“Our main transportation here is by boat. If we talk about crocodiles, they are everywhere, lurking,” he said.

Some residents tell The Borneo Post team that in the upriver area of Nanga Semah, there are many sightings of crocodiles. They also said some were spotted on their jetty once the water level became too high.

Residents know the danger all too well.

The community still remembers the death of a villager who was attacked by a crocodile about a year ago.

“His remains were found three days later,” Sepani recalled quietly.

The tragedy remains deeply etched in the memories of residents and serves as a reminder that the river providing food and income can also take lives.

The victim’s wife, who was reluctant to give her name, said her late husband was their only provider and their only child is suffering from a leg infection, which has already led to an amputation.

Although a road exists, use of boats remains the most practical option for residents.

The reality of transport

The river connects them to neighbouring settlements, schools, healthcare facilities and towns further away.

Sepani said river conditions largely depend on water levels and weather patterns. During low tide, particularly between late afternoon and early morning, navigation becomes more difficult as boats have to contend with shallower waterways.

Heavy rain can quickly change conditions, while strong tides and waves generated by passing larger vessels often make journeys more challenging for those who rely on small boats as their primary mode of transportation.

When conditions are unfavourable, transportation becomes increasingly difficult as road travel is not a reliable alternative.

The existing road passes through a nearby oil palm plantation. Even though there is a tarred road, it only lasts for a few kilometres before entering an unpaved estate road, which turns muddy during rain.

“If it rains, small cars cannot get through. We also need to use a ferry, which is also owned by the oil palm plantation company, and if the water level is low, the ferry cannot operate,” Sepani said.

His next remark highlights another reality of life in the settlement.

“None of us who are currently living here have cars or even driving licences.”

The statement is not unusual in a community where boats serve the functions performed by vehicles elsewhere.

For many residents, river navigation is a more essential skill than driving.

Living with challenges

Living near the coast introduces additional challenges.

“The dangerous part is the waves because we are near the sea. When the tide arrives or during heavy rain, the waves become dangerous,” Sepani said.

Despite the risks, life goes on.

Boats continue to travel between settlements, fishermen continue setting their traps and farmers continue tending to their crops.

For elderly resident Liang Uming, 67, access to healthcare remains among the challenges of living in a remote community.

After suffering a serious infection in his leg, he is no longer able to perform physically demanding work.

Instead, he now spends much of his time weaving fishing nets that can be sold for additional income.

“This left leg, the doctor once said that they were considering an amputation. Thankfully, there’s no need for that at the moment,” he said while showing the infected part.

Liang’s annual medical appointments require travel to Sibu, while medications are often purchased and delivered by family members living in town.

Further along the ‘ruai’ of the longhouse sits 85-year-old Bundan Ubung, the oldest resident of Rumah Haliah. From a distance, we could see him patiently repairing a fishing net.

A bond that endures

As we joined him for a conversation, he reflected on the many changes he has witnessed over the decades.

“A lot of my friends have gone,” he said softly.

Most of his children have moved elsewhere in search of employment and better opportunities.

Yet he sees such migration as part of life.

“Why would young people stay here? Let them work and provide for their families,” he said.

His words reflect a reality faced by many rural communities throughout Sarawak.

On ordinary days, only about 50 residents remain in Rumah Haliah, most of them elderly villagers, farmers and fishermen.

However, the situation changes dramatically during Gawai Dayak celebrations when the population can swell to nearly 1,000 people as children, grandchildren and relatives return home from towns and cities across Sarawak and beyond.

For a few days each year, the longhouse becomes lively once again as family members gather to celebrate and reconnect with their roots.

Despite living elsewhere, many former residents maintain strong ties to their ancestral home.

Remembering home

“They always come back,” Bundan said with a smile.

As we prepared to leave Rumah Haliah, his words served as a reminder that while development and migration continue to transform rural communities, the bond between people and their ancestral home remains strong.

The stories of Anding, Sepani, Liang and Bundan may be different, but together they paint a picture of life in a community shaped by both opportunity and hardship.

For Anding, the river remains a source of livelihood. For Sepani and many others, it remains part of everyday life despite the risks posed by weather and crocodiles. For Liang, it is the backdrop to a quieter struggle with age and health. And for Bundan, it is a witness to generations of change.

While younger generations continue to seek opportunities elsewhere, many still return to the longhouse where their families began.

In Rumah Haliah, the river is more than a source of transportation or income. It is part of the community’s history, identity and memory.

And although the tides continue to change and the years continue to pass, the connection between the people of Rumah Haliah and the place they call home remains as strong as ever. — The Borneo Post