The Proposal
Rain drummed steadily on the thatched roof of Alis’ small hut, a humble structure made of thick, rounded logs and bamboo perched atop stilts in the sprawling wetlands—the same swamp where I grew up during the 1950s and early 1970s.
Seated on the edge of her bamboo bed, Alis gently brushed her daughter Moli’s thick black hair. The little girl giggled, her laughter filling the dimly lit room as Alis hummed a familiar lullaby passed down through generations. Moments like these were rare — a fleeting reprieve from the weight of worry that often lingered in their home, where dreams of a better life remained unspoken.
At just 25 years old, Alis carried the burdens of a life shaped by loss. Her husband’s death three years earlier had left her a single mother, struggling to provide for Moli. Each day was a relentless grind — working in the paddy fields, mending fishing nets, and weaving baskets for neighbouring farmers. Her ageing parents offered what help they could, but her father’s health had begun to fail, leaving her to shoulder most of the responsibility.
She often wondered how much longer she could endure the struggle. That evening, as she and Moli prepared for bed, her thoughts drifted to a peculiar proposal brought to her by her childhood friend, Balo.
Balo, ever the prankster, had approached her earlier that day with a mischievous grin. As was their custom, he began with casual banter, asking how she was managing. When Alis admitted that life had been particularly hard, Balo’s tone grew serious.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, scratching his head. “You know Dinto? Lives about half a mile down by the river bend?”
Alis arched an eyebrow. “Are you joking? Of course, I know Dinto. Everyone around here knows everyone.”
Balo smirked. “Fair enough. Did you know he’s a good friend of mine?”
Alis crossed her arms. “Get to the point, Balo.”
“Alright, alright. He’s — well, he’s looking for a wife. And you — well, you could use some help.”
Alis blinked at him, stunned into silence. Dinto was a quiet, unassuming man known for his work ethic and honesty, though little else was said about him. She often saw him in the village but had never spoken to him. He was plain, yes, but not unpleasant to look at. More importantly, he had a steady livelihood, and Balo’s recommendation carried weight.
“He’s shy,” Balo explained. “But he’ll make a good husband and father if you give him a chance. He’s never had much luck with women — not because he’s unworthy, but because he doesn’t know how to talk to them.”
The idea of a marriage without love unsettled Alis. It felt wrong — cold, even. But as she glanced at Moli that night, sleeping peacefully beside her, the weight of her daughter’s future pressed on her heart. Could she afford to let pride stand in the way of a better life for them both?
Reluctantly, she agreed.
The Wedding
The wedding was a simple affair. Dinto stood beside Alis, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. A wiry man in his early thirties, his face was tanned and weathered from years under the sun. Though his eyes rarely met hers, there was a kindness in his gaze when he looked at Moli.
Alis had braced herself for indifference, but when Dinto gently slid the plain gold band onto her finger, she paused. His touch was soft, almost hesitant, and for the first time, she wondered if there might be more to him than his quiet demeanour suggested.
The ceremony and reception were brief. The neighbours attended not out of grand celebration but because it offered a rare distraction from their toilsome lives. By the end of the day, Alis and Moli were on their way to Dinto’s modest farm, unsure of what awaited them.
Life on the Farm
Dinto’s home was a small wooden hut among the rice fields, with an additional room he had built for Moli. It was early December, with the harvest still months off, and the cold winds hinted at the long, gruelling days to come.
Life was as Alis expected: hard. Each day began before sunrise and ended long after sundown. Together, they weeded the narrow spaces between the paddy stalks, maintained irrigation channels, and tended to other crops like cassava, yams, and vegetables. Dinto worked with quiet determination, his focus unwavering as though the fields were his entire world. His hands were calloused, his movements deliberate, and his silence unbroken.
Initially, their interactions were strictly functional. Dinto, a man of few words, kept to himself, while Alis maintained a respectful distance. The divide between them seemed insurmountable, leaving both uncertain how to connect.
But Moli, with her boundless energy and insistent curiosity, slowly began to thaw the silence. She followed Dinto around the farm, peppering him with questions about the crops, the animals, and the tools he used. At first, Dinto seemed unsure how to respond, his shyness rendering him awkward. But over time, he began to soften. He showed her how to plant seeds, lifted her onto his shoulders during walks to the river, and even carved small wooden toys for her during his rare moments of rest.
Alis watched these moments unfold with quiet amazement. Moli’s laughter filled the air, and for the first time in years, Alis smiled more often than not.
A Growing Bond
It was a rare Sunday afternoon when the three of them sat by the riverbank, sharing a simple meal of rice and fish wrapped in banana leaves. Moli splashed in the shallows, her laughter echoing through the trees.
Dinto turned to Alis, his voice hesitant. “She’s a bright child. You’ve done a good job raising her.”
Alis looked at him, startled. It was the first time he had complimented her. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks but quickly brushed it off. “Thank you. She likes you, you know.”
Dinto’s expression softened. “I like her too. She reminds me of my little sister.”
“The one who passed away?” Alis asked gently.
He nodded, his voice tinged with sadness. “She was just about Moli’s age when she died.”
Alis’ heart ached at the pain in his tone. For the first time, she saw him not as the quiet farmer she had married out of necessity, but as a man who had endured his share of loss and loneliness. At that moment, she realised they were not so different after all.
The First Spark
As the months passed, the bond between Alis and Dinto began to deepen. He opened up gradually, sharing stories of his childhood, his dreams, and his fears. In turn, Alis found herself confiding in him, revealing pieces of her heart she had long kept hidden. Their conversations became more frequent and their silences more comfortable.
One evening, as they sat together on the porch watching fireflies flicker across the twilight sky, Dinto broke the stillness.
“I know this marriage started as an arrangement,” he said quietly. “But I want you to know that I care for you. And for Moli. More than I thought I could.”
Alis felt tears well in her eyes. She reached for his hand, her voice trembling. “I care for you too, Dinto. More than I ever expected.”
At that moment, beneath the canopy of stars, their marriage of convenience began to transform into something far more meaningful — a partnership built on trust, respect, and a love that had grown quietly, like the paddy fields they had worked so hard to nurture.
From Necessity to Blossoming True Love
As the seasons shifted, so did Alis and Dinto’s marriage. What began as a pragmatic arrangement — a union born out of necessity — gradually transformed into something genuine and meaningful. Their journey illuminates how love can emerge in unexpected circumstances, growing like spring blossoms after a long, cold winter.
Central to their transformation was the courage to embrace change. For Alis, entering a marriage of convenience was an act of quiet bravery, a leap into uncharted territory that redefined her understanding of love and partnership. This decision, while practical, opened doors to possibilities she hadn’t imagined.
Their transactional bond blossomed into genuine companionship through the sharing of their joys and burdens. Through whispered conversations and acts of mutual care, their alliance deepened, proving that love requires time, patience, and vulnerability to flourish.
Dinto’s transformation mirrored this growth. As he let down his guard, his small gestures of kindness created a safe space for trust to take root, nurtured by Alis’s unwavering patience.
Parenthood became a turning point, with their daughter, Moli, bridging gaps that once seemed insurmountable. Her presence illuminated untapped depths of love, allowing Alis and Dinto to rediscover each other through the shared triumphs and trials of raising a child. Moli symbolised not just their union but the growth and strength of their bond.
In essence, the story of Alis and Dinto illustrates that love doesn’t necessarily begin with intense passion. At times, it flourishes softly — fostered by shared moments, mutual admiration, and openness to life’s uncertainties. Their story shows that the deepest bonds often emerge in unexpected places.
quote photo:
Nicholas Sparksquote:
‘The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.’ – Nicholas Sparks (1965-Present), an American novelist and screenwriter known for his romance novels, many of which have been adapted into successful films.
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at www.hayhenlin@gmail.com
