The story of my great grandfather.

The Bidayuh people had a culture that I believe contribute to one reason not much is known about us. Though I did find that some other indigenous group held the same culture. It was a taboo to talk about those who had died, those who are much older and it is a form of disrespect to even say your parents name. What more can be said if it was a grandparent or in my story a great grandfather. So the older generation had passed on without much known about them.

Yet somewhere along the line my mom remembered something about my lineage and mentioned it to me briefly when I was young. It took me years afterward to look into the history and some years more to have a blog to write about it.

As long as I know, my family was considered rich. In the heydays, rich means those who have more lands and have more padi in their keeps. I remembered my grandmother house had one room that was used to keep padi and it was the whole room. When asked why we didn’t cooked those padi, my mom mentioned it was not to be eaten as it has aged for quite sometime.

Briefly, for those who doesn’t know, ‘padi seeds’ are which rice are derived from and it was and still is the main food for Borneon people. So it is to most South East Asian countries anyway.

Back to my story, my grandfather, Nyatoi (yep I’m breaking tradition here by stating his name) was the headman or ‘Ketua Kampung’ of a village named Jugan. It was said that my great grandfather was the headman of one of the main family from Bung Bratak ( a hill in Bau). And Bung Bratak was known to be where most Bidayuh village originated from.

Yet what puzzled me more that his name is Barieng (Aha ha…another tradition breaking. Dear ancestors, if you are reading this, forgive me. Please give me good luck instead of bad.).

Now, Barieng was a traditional and very prominent Iban name. Was my great grandfather an Iban? The answer was no but he was raised as one.

During the tribal wars between the Bidayuh and Iban, who are also known as the Land and Sea Dayak, my great grandfather who was the son of the village headman was abducted by the Ibans. When he was abducted, or which family abducted him was not known. Though it was said that the most active warring Iban tribes were the one originated from Skrang, which is quite a long way from Bau.

Now when he had come of age, it was said that he was returned to the family ( and most probably after the death of the village headman ) to claim the title, the land and the wealth on behalf of the Ibans. Hmm…talk about ancient politics.

But, like all good stories, none are perfect without a dose of romanticism. It was said that he had fallen in love with a Bidayuh girl (most probably a cousin), married her and refused to acknowledge his Iban heritage. Much to the chagrin of his foster family who I think had expected my great grandfather would claim the ‘wealth’ of Bung Bratak for them.

I wonder whether that had started another bout of bloody tribal wars. Some wars happened on a piece of land somewhere not far from Bung Bratak. It was said that many bloodshed happened there. Many died and the land was soaked in blood until the land was known as the place where warriors gave their bodies. In Bidayuh the land was known as ‘Jugan Tading’ or ‘Toding’ or directly translated as ‘give meat’.

That same land, my grandfather migrated to, started another village and in times it was known only as Jugan Village. And that, my friend, is where I came from.

Now, I wished that there was a written history on my family but as mentioned beforehand, all I have are words of mouth. And small pieces here and there to make up a story. Though the story is as true as was told to me, I wonder whether it could be just a figment of an imaginative mind. I wished I could go back to Bung Bratak one day and listens as the ancient forest quietly tell me their tales.

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