Kami tanam macam biasa, tapi cuaca tak biasa lagi. (We plant like before, but the weather isn’t like before.)
– Farmer from Simunjan
IN Sarawak, rice is not just food. It is culture, identity, and survival.
Across the state – from the golden terraces of Ba’Kelalan to the lowland paddies of Simunjan – rice weaves its way through ceremonies, stories, and daily life. It is offered to ancestors during Gawai, shared at weddings and funerals, and spoken of with reverence. When we say makan nasi, we are not just eating; we are participating in a tradition as old as our rivers.
But today, a quiet crisis is growing in our fields – one that is already changing what, and how, we eat.
That crisis is climate change.
When the Weather Breaks Tradition
Not long ago, farmers in the Baram highlands could predict the coming of the rains by the flight of birds or the bloom of certain forest flowers. Planting was a ritual guided by nature’s signals. But today, the skies no longer follow the old patterns.
As one elderly paddy farmer in Long Semadoh said to me, “The signs still come, but the rain does not.”
In 2023 and early 2024, Sarawak experienced prolonged dry spells triggered by the El Niño phenomenon – a warming of sea surface temperatures in the Pacific that disrupts weather across Southeast Asia. Rain was scarce. Rivers shrank. Seedlings withered in their beds. In some villages, entire rice harvests failed.
Now, in 2025, we are seeing the opposite: heavier rains, unseasonal floods, and erratic storms. In recent months, Sarawak has experienced severe flooding, exacerbated by El Niño. These floods have devastated agricultural areas, with reports indicating that about 80 per cent of crops were damaged in some regions. Farmers have faced significant income losses, and the destruction of crops has led to a shortage of local vegetables, driving up prices and affecting food security. In lower Baram and parts of Samarahan, flash floods have damaged paddy fields before harvest. Farmers cannot dry their grain properly. Young plants rot in waterlogged soil.
These shifts are not anomalies – they are signs of a new climate reality.
More Than a Rural Problem
When we talk about rice, it is easy to think of it as a rural concern. But the effects ripple far beyond the village.
Reduced harvests mean increased reliance on rice imports. Malaysia already imports about 30 per cent of its rice, and Sarawak imports even more to supplement local consumption. As global rice prices rise – due to droughts in India, export restrictions in Vietnam, or conflict in shipping lanes – our dependence becomes a risk.
The price of a kilo of rice in urban markets may creep up quietly, but for households living paycheck to paycheck, every cent counts. Food security is no longer a global concept – it sits on our plates.
Seeds of Adaptation
Yet all is not lost. Farmers are adapting – sometimes through innovation, often through memory.
Some are returning to traditional rice varieties, like Adan, Beras Keladi, and Padi Mamut, which have been passed down through generations. These landraces are often more tolerant of drought and pests, and can grow well in upland or marginal areas.
Others are experimenting with staggered planting seasons, natural fertilisers, and water-harvesting systems. In some communities, younger farmers are learning not only from the elders, but also from weather apps, drone footage, and WhatsApp farmer groups. It is a blend of old wisdom and new tools.
Agroecological farming – where rice is grown alongside trees, legumes, or fish – is regaining popularity. These practices improve soil health, diversify income, and reduce vulnerability to climate shocks.
But these efforts cannot thrive in isolation. They need support – from government agencies, local councils, researchers, and all of us as consumers.
What Can You Do?
Even if you live in the city and buy your rice from the supermarket, you are part of this story.
- Support local rice: Look for Sarawak-grown varieties. Ask where your rice comes from. Choose heritage grains when you can.
- Reduce food waste: Every uneaten grain represents water, energy, and labour lost.
- Speak up for farmers: Advocate for stronger agricultural support systems, especially in climate adaptation.
- Educate others: Share the stories of our farmers – not just their struggles, but their creativity and resilience.
Climate change is no longer just about melting glaciers or rising seas. It is about empty plates and anxious farmers. It is about whether your children will grow up knowing the taste of beras Adan, or only read about it in books.
In Every Grain, a Story
So, the next time you sit down for a meal, look closely at your rice bowl.
Inside it is the story of a farmer who waited too long for the rain. Of a family who re-sowed their fields after a flood. Of a community that chose to plant even when the odds were against them.
That bowl of rice is not just sustenance. It is a mirror – of our past resilience, our current fragility, and our collective future.
Let’s honour it. Let’s protect it.
Before the story becomes one we can no longer tell.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at ab_fauziah@upm.edu.my.
Did You Know?
Traditional rice varieties like Adan and Keladi are naturally more resistant to drought and pests than modern hybrids. They are also rich in nutrients, aromatic, and often grown without chemicals. Saving these seeds means preserving resilience.
