In sleepy Tuaran, Sabah, this Australian has found a legacy worth building

New Straits Times

06-07-2025

IN the soft blush of Sabah's early morning, Fiona Hagan is already awake.
The general manager of Shangri-La Rasa Ria, Tuaran, Sabah, with her shock of wavy white hair and calm, deliberate presence, stands watching the sunrise spill over the South China Sea.
It's a ritual, one of many she relies on to centre herself before another day of decisions, meetings, and moments that test her leadership.
"I'm a sunrise person," she says simply, adding softly: "My grounding ritual is to breathe. Just to get outside and remember to be in nature."
Her story isn't one of corporate playbooks or a predetermined climb up the hospitality ladder. It's a story shaped by the land she came from — a small, sun-drenched town called Ballina, a coastal town in the Northern Rovers region of New South Wales, Australia.
The bubbly 53-year-old was raised on books, not ambitions. Her parents owned a bookshop, a sanctuary of stories that nurtured her restless curiosity.
"I could read a book without breaking the spine," she recalls with a laugh, remembering how she devoured biographies of people who changed the world — Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela — long before she knew how she might leave her own mark.
By the age of eight or nine, Hagan had made up her mind. "Apparently, I announced one day I was going to leave and work in Asia," she says, still a little amused by the audacity of that childhood conviction.
It was the 1970s in regional Australia, an unlikely era and place for a young girl to dream of diplomacy, cross-cultural life and making a difference halfway across the world.
"My ambition was to be one of three things: a diplomat, a mathematics teacher or a banker," she adds. There was even a brief, fleeting moment when she wanted to be Australia's first female prime minister.
Travel came early and left its mark. Her parents, open-minded and adventurous, took Hagan and her brother to the United States, Hong Kong, South Korea and Japan. But it was Asia that clung to her imagination — the colours, the culture, the contradictions.
"I can still remember my first trip to India over 20 years ago," she says happily, adding: "I arrived in Bombay, and it wasn't like anything I'd ever experienced. The chaos, the energy, the sheer humanity. But I've always trusted the good in people."
That trust, paired with an unflappable optimism, became the compass for a life overseas.
At 28, she accepted her first expatriate posting in Thailand. "I was terribly homesick for the first three or four months until I found my people," admits Hagan.
By "people", she meant the locals — the street vendors, the shopkeepers, the small communities that stitched themselves into the rhythm of her daily life. In every new country, Hagan and her Malaysian husband would wander the streets, discover the best noodle stalls, and befriend the vendors on the corner. "That to me is life," she says, simply, before adding softly: "The real pulse of a place is its people."
Their marriage, too, was a beautiful convergence of worlds — Australian and Malaysian, east and west — and together they made a ritual of simplicity wherever they lived. "It's how we understood a place. Through its food, its markets, and its people."
For 25 years, Hagan lived and worked across five countries in Asia — Vietnam, China, Thailand and Malaysia among them. Each experience deepened her belief that the true heartbeat of a destination does not lie in its landmarks, but, instead, in its people.
Brows furrowing thoughtfully, Hagan shares: "My leadership has always been about building friendships and developing local talent. If you can focus on the people that you have the privilege to work with, that's your legacy."
That commitment hasn't gone unnoticed. Just recently, Hagan was named Malaysia's Best Hotel General Manager at the prestigious Travel + Leisure Luxury Awards Asia Pacific, a milestone not just for her personally, but also for Shangri-La Rasa Ria.
The win, against some of the region's most celebrated international hotels, marked a quiet but powerful validation of the resort's people-first, sustainability-driven approach.
SETTING ROOTS
At Shangri-La Rasa Ria, Hagan appears to have found her canvas. Tucked away on a sweep of private beach fringed by 162ha of protected rainforest, the resort is more than a postcard-perfect escape. Under her stewardship, it has quietly evolved into one of the region's most committed champions of sustainable tourism — though it didn't start that way.
"When I first arrived, I was very focused on the guest touchpoints — glass bottles in rooms, refillable water bottles, locally made beach bags," admits Hagan, adding: "But I realised pretty quickly that sustainability means something different to everyone, depending on their background and values."
The Covid-19 pandemic, for all its devastation, provided the lively Australian and her team with an unexpected opportunity to strip operations back to basics. With the resort shuttered and physically cut off from Kota Kinabalu by roadblocks, they audited every aspect of their operation.
"I can tell you how much gas it takes to turn on our pizza oven, how much electricity each wing consumes. We knew exactly how many people we needed to employ daily to keep the place running," she recalls with a smile.
That clarity reshaped her entire approach to sustainability. Shares Hagan: "At the end of the day, sustainability is about no excess. It's about managing resources with care, not just for the bottom line, but also for the people and places that sustain us."
REAL MAGIC
Today, the resort's initiatives stretch far beyond what guests can see — from glass-crushing machines to composting programmes, rainwater harvesting and data-driven energy consumption strategies. But one of its proudest efforts is the collaboration with local wildlife conservationists in protecting one of Sabah's most endangered species: the pangolin.
The Rasa Ria Nature Reserve, tucked within the resort's grounds, is home to a pangolin rehabilitation programme in partnership with the Sabah Wildlife Department, offering sanctuary and protection for these shy, nocturnal creatures trafficked through illegal wildlife trades. "It's not something we shout about enough," says Hagan, adding softly: "But it's deeply important to us."
That dedication hasn't gone unnoticed. In April 2025, under her leadership, Shangri-La Rasa Ria became the first hotel in Malaysia — and the first within the Shangri-La Group — to achieve the globally recognised ISO 20121 certification for sustainable event management.
It marked a watershed moment, integrating environmental, social and governance principles into every facet of the resort's event planning and operations. A month earlier, the property was also honoured with the Sustainability Partnership Award from NCH Chem-Aqua for its innovative eco-friendly cooling water system.
But for Hagan, these accolades aren't about prestige or personal gain. "It's acknowledgment, not a celebration," she says, matter-of-factly, adding: "It's one small step forward, a way of showing gratitude to the people and partners who've placed their trust in us."
The real magic, however, lies with the people. With 80 per cent of her staff hailing from nearby Tuaran, Hagan has made it her mission to cultivate opportunities within the community. "If we can upskill a gardener who's been with us for 20 years and move him into a guest-facing role, improve his English, increase his income — and he goes home and inspires his children — that's long-term change," she says, her voice catching slightly.
At home, the doting mother chuckles that she is kept grounded by her teenage son, now 16. "He holds me incredibly accountable," admits Hagan grinning sheepishly. "He'll ask, 'Mum, why are we doing this? Shouldn't we be doing it this way instead?' And he's right to ask."
COMMITMENT TO THE ENVIRONMENT
Some of her deepest convictions come from an older generation. Hagan credits her grandmothers — both resilient women who lived through different, simpler times — for shaping her sense of simplicity and resilience. "They grew up without technology, without the need for things. It was about traditions and people," she confides, a fond smile on her lips.
One grandmother, a single mother, gave her advice she still clings to: "Don't let anyone tell you what to do unless it's truly in your heart. Don't give up your dreams for anybody." And a quirkier one: "Always take care of your hands." Shares Hagan, chuckling softly: "I carry hand cream everywhere. It's a funny little thing, but it stuck."
As Visit Malaysia 2026 approaches, her commitment to Sabah's ecotourism potential has only deepened. Her team has secured multiple Asean sustainability certifications, from Green MICE to spa operations and food safety standards.
But what excites her most are new nature-based activities being rolled out within the Rasa Ria reserve, designed to reconnect guests with the wild beauty of Sabah.
In a nod to nostalgia, the resort is also reviving Sabah's international kite festival — dormant for 30 years — with hopes of launching it this Malaysia Day. "When people come here, they shouldn't get the same experience they would in Langkawi or Penang," she insists, adding passionately: "They should have a Sabahan experience."
It's not about Instagrammable moments, but authenticity — fire shows performed by staff, dinners under the stars, partnerships with Tuaran artisans, and the quiet thrill of watching a rescued pangolin shuffle across the undergrowth. "Sustainability is about stories," says Hagan, adding passionately: "It's about people being able to tell their own story, connect it to their purpose. That's what drives me."
And when results are slow, invisible or uphill? I pose. She shrugs before replying softly: "You just keep going. It has to be in your DNA. If you keep asking the question, 'Are we doing enough?' you're probably on the right track."
As dusk languidly settles over the Shangri-La Rasa Ria coastline, Hagan is no doubt already thinking about tomorrow. Another dawn, another barefoot walk by the sea, another reminder of why she chose this life.
"At the end of the day, it's not about titles or KPIs," Hagan points out, voice dipping thoughtfully. A pause, and she concludes: "It's about leaving something better than you found it — for the land, for the people, and for the stories that deserve to be told."