
From the Ancestral Hill
Where memory is soil, and every silence remembers a name.
These are the stories I carry from the hill that raised me — echoes of my father’s resilience, my mother’s quiet strength, and the culture stitched into our bones. In this space, I honour their legacy, their loss, and the sacred traditions that shaped the language of my life.
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How Being Kadazan Shaped My Voice as a Writer
Before I ever called myself a writer, I carried a Kadazan writing voice — shaped by hills, harvests, and the ache of memory. Kadazandusun…