I still remember May 27, 2019, at the ruai of the longhouse in Long Sinung, my late uncle Vincent Kalang, one of the elders, was invited to share stories of our village. It was there that this story first began to be told.

Long ago, before maps were drawn and boundaries named, our ancestors journeyed through the deep forests of Sarawak. They travelled as one community, carrying their children, heirlooms, and hopes for a safer home. The rivers were their guides, and the jungle was both shelter and threat.

One afternoon, they arrived at a small tributary. The water rushed steadily over stones, narrow but strong enough to make crossing difficult. As they searched for a way across, they discovered a gigantic, ancient tree root stretching from one bank to the other. Thick and sturdy, as though placed there by design, it formed a natural bridge above the flowing stream.