The backbone of one of the most sought-after spices in the world, pepper, also known as the ‘King of Spices’, is the farming communities who work tirelessly under the tropical sun. The aroma and tongue-tingling sensation that elevate every bite are the fruits of their labour.

The cultivation of Sarawak pepper is nurtured with tender care, on plots that cradle its roots, where love and legacy bloom. Growing pepper requires tremendous effort from all pepper farmers in Sarawak, including those from Rumah Peter in Nanga Nging and Rumah Dagum in Nanga Makut, along the upstream of the Katibas River in the Song district.

According to the Malaysian Pepper Board (2020), pepper is an integral commodity in Sarawak, accounting for about 98% of Malaysia’s total pepper production. This has made Malaysia one of the top five pepper exporters in the world. Small-scale farmers and longhouse communities (or rumah panjang in Bahasa Malaysia) in Sarawak have been the backbone of this industry. They are the driving force behind its growth. Sarawak produces two types of pepper, white and black, which come from the same plant but differ in their processing methods.

In February 2025, I had the opportunity to travel to Song-Katibas with my teammates to conduct a Livelihood and Income Assessment in Rumah Peter and Rumah Dagum to collect data on the communities' socio-economic well-being resulting from the project. We arrived in Sibu town at 8 a.m. by flight from Kuching. After a quick stop to buy food supplies using our rental car, we reached Song town by noon. There, Tuai Rumah Peter Jabat, the headman of Rumah Peter, and his wife, Ina Anak Imba, also known as Ibuk Ina, were ready to pick us up in their longboat and send us to the first longhouse, Rumah Dagum. The journey took two hours by river. As someone who had only travelled by speedboat before, this was my first longboat experience. I found it quite nerve-wracking when the weather shifted from scorching sun to heavy rain as we made our way to Rumah Dagum.

Our stay at Rumah Dagum was only for two days, as we needed to continue the same assessment in Rumah Peter. Peter and Ibuk Ina arrived early to fetch us, giving us time to have breakfast and chat. He mentioned that the river current was particularly swift that morning because it had rained all night. Suddenly, Ibuk Ina asked me, “Nemu nyemerai nuan ndu?” (Do you know how to swim?), and I immediately put on my brave face and replied, “Nemu” (yes). Her question made me briefly worry that the situation might be serious. However, I quickly reassured myself that it probably would not be as bad as I feared.

As we set off to Rumah Peter, which is an hour away, I prayed for a safe journey. The river current was flowing so fast, not to mention the numerous chunks of trees that had fallen into the river and were floating past us at high speed. I was deeply captivated by how Peter and Ibuk Ina skillfully navigated the longboat. Ibuk Ina sat at the bow of the longboat, using hand signals, while Peter, who was at the stern, immediately understood and manoeuvred the boat. What struck me the most was their seemingly telepathic coordination, as they rarely exchanged a single word. It was a genuinely “wow” moment for me, and I realised this must have taken them a lot of time and experience to navigate such challenging waters with such seamless interactions.

Throughout the survey, as I spoke with the farmers, I began to understand that for them, pepper farming is not just about producing spices, it is a way of life deeply tied to their culture, identity, and environment. Some pepper farmers are newcomers who have joined WWF’s sustainable agriculture initiatives, while others are continuing family legacies, using the traditional knowledge passed down from their elders.

The farmers’ passion is evident in how eagerly they express opinions and concerns about their crops, and how consistently they seek advice and feedback to improve their crops. One of their main concerns, which was emphasised, was the need for more effective organic fertiliser and brush cutter. This clearly shows their willingness to enhance sustainable farming by actively welcoming recommendations for different organic fertilisers to apply to their pepper crops and for controlling weeds through non-chemical methods.

As I was on my way back to Kuching, it dawned on me that their way of life was truly an eye-opening experience. They manage their pepper farms as a close-knit riverine community. I am in no way romanticising their hardships, but their resilience in moving away from traditional practices for the sake of a healthier environment is truly commendable. By transitioning to sustainable pepper farming, they contribute to protecting and conserving ecosystems, in contrast to conventional methods. Their eco-friendly practices, including avoiding chemical inputs and utilising organic fertilisers, help maintain healthy soil and safeguard the quality of nearby rivers. These methods also produce higher-quality and healthier pepper crops. 

Hence, we should all play our role as consumers to support these efforts by buying sustainably sourced pepper and spreading awareness about sustainable farming. Let’s make conscious choices so that every pinch of pepper tells a story of care, culture, and sustainability.

Taking a wefie on the longboat with team members. That’s me, third from the front, wearing a brown jacket. © Lim Pey Chen / WWF-Malaysia

 
Along the journey, the water current changed depending on the location, sometimes smooth, sometimes fast and strong. © Nadya Cindy / WWF-Malaysia

 
Presenting a token of appreciation to the community after completing our social survey interviews. © Lim Pey Chen / WWF-Malaysia

 
Group photo with the pepper farmers of Rumah Peter after the session ended. © Lim Pey Chen / WWF-Malaysia


Enjoying the longboat ride on our way back to Song town. © Nadya Cindy / WWF-Malaysia


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