Kaamatan: A call for unity in the land of Huminodun

Borneo Post

2 days ago

As Sabah welcomes the radiant glow of Kaamatan and the haunting strains of the sompoton fill the valleys, this sacred period, rooted in the legend of Huminodun, prompts deep introspection and thankfulness. Huminodun, the revered maiden whose selfless act brought forth the first rice harvest, embodies unity and altruism.
This leads to a critical question: How can a person who honors such a powerful symbol of cohesion remain entangled in political disarray? The Kadazandusun, Sabah's largest indigenous community, holds vast potential. However, their true strength can only be unlocked by embracing the ancient wisdom of Misompuru (Unity) and forging a collective vision for what lies ahead.
At the core of Kadazandusun beliefs is the touching narrative of Huminodun. Faced with devastating famine, Kinoingan, the creator deity, made an unimaginable choice: to save humanity, he had to sacrifice his only child. With immense love and dedication, Huminodun willingly offered herself. Her body was laid into the earth, from which the first rice emerged, sustaining countless generations. This ultimate sacrifice, commemorated yearly during Kaamatan through ceremonies like the Magavau, transcends a mere story of sorrow; it stands as a powerful testament to the strength of unity and the profound connection between individuals and their community.
The Unduk Ngadau, or harvest queen, chosen during the festival, personifies Huminodun's purity, wisdom, and grace. Her symbolic role reminds the community that leadership must serve the greater good. Yet, in today's political landscape, this sacred covenant appears forgotten. How has a people united by the legacy of a heroine who gave her life for unity allowed themselves to splinter into factions that seem to thrive on division?
Sabah's political sphere has become increasingly fragmented, with multiple parties — UPKO, PBS, PBRS, STAR, among others — jostling for influence under the banner of Kadazandusun rights. Despite their common cause, internal rivalries, shifting alliances, and competing agendas have weakened their collective voice. This political disunity has led to tangible consequences. Native land rights, enshrined in law, are routinely undermined by external interests, yet without a united political front, enforcement remains elusive.
Economically, many rural Kadazandusun communities continue to face hardship, trapped in cycles of poverty and underdevelopment, while disjointed leadership fails to marshal coordinated advocacy. The cultural cost is no less grave. A 2017 Borneo Post Online article, 'The Kadazandusun language dilemma,' highlighted that many district youth under thirty struggled to speak Kadazan. This aligns with a 2005 UNESCO report deeming Kadazandusun endangered, a critical indicator that the culture risks disappearing without targeted efforts.
This is not the legacy Huminodun died to bequeath. Her act was a call to unity, not a license for petty squabbles. Kaamatan, at its core, has always been more than a celebration of harvest — it is a time of renewal, of reconciling differences, sharing abundance, and reaffirming kinship. In the past, rituals led by the bobohizan or bombolian were not only spiritual acts but mechanisms for healing and consensus. Elders resolved conflicts, families shared the first rice harvest, and the community danced the sumazau in harmonious rhythm, reflecting a society at peace with itself.
Today, Kaamatan risks becoming a hollow shell — reduced to pageantry and performance, stripped of its deeper meaning — unless its essence is reclaimed. Imagine if political leaders, instead of trading barbs, genuinely shared tapai under the roof of Hongkod Koisaan, pledging collaboration over competition.
Picture the unveiling of a unified agenda for the Kadazandusun people — rooted in land protection, cultural preservation and educational reform — delivered not in separate party platforms, but as a collective vision.
Envision young people and women — torchbearers of Huminodun's spirit — leading campaigns that transcend partisan lines, igniting hope in both village halls and digital spaces. The image of Kadazandusun leaders joining in the sumazau, moving in unison like the intertwined roots of the rice plant, could become a powerful living symbol of Misompuru — not just a concept, but a call to action.
Around the world, indigenous peoples have found strength in solidarity. The Māori of New Zealand, by uniting under the framework of the Treaty of Waitangi, secured not only land reparations but a firm voice in parliament. In the United States, the Navajo Nation, despite its internal diversity, consolidated political power to protect its resources and secure federal support. These examples show that unity is not a surrender of identity; it is a strategy for survival and growth. The Kadazandusun, with their profound cultural heritage, could likewise wield greater influence through cooperation and shared purpose. Perhaps, like the Māori Kingitanga, a central movement rooted in cultural pride and political coordination could emerge.
To make Misompuru a reality, several key steps are needed. The formation of a Kadazandusun Political Council — serving as a neutral platform akin to the bobohizan's role as mediator — could help align party priorities and push for crucial legislation, from protecting Native Customary Rights (NCR) land to intensifying Kadazandusun-language education and developing sustainable rural economies. Grassroots initiatives should accompany this political reawakening. A 'Tumahui do Huminodun' campaign could mobilize youth around the symbolism of her sacrifice, linking tradition to activism through art, dialogue, and community action. Even simple efforts, such as rival politicians co-hosting Kaamatan activities or jointly planting rice, can plant seeds of trust and solidarity.
As the gongs echo and the scent of hinava drifts through the air, this Kaamatan, the Kadazandusun are called to make a choice. Will they continue down a path of fragmentation, or rise together as people bound by the same moon that once witnessed their ancestors dance in unity? Huminodun's story is not merely a legend to be admired; it is a roadmap waiting to be followed. Just as her body became the rice that sustained a people, today's leaders must transform their ambitions into nourishment for the collective good. This moment goes beyond politics. It is about safeguarding a heritage — the terraced paddies, the chants of the bobohizan, the laughter of children speaking the language of their forebears. It is about honoring the spirits of those who came before by securing a dignified future for those yet to come.
Let this Kaamatan mark a new beginning. Let it prove that Misompuru is not a forgotten dream but a living, breathing force. For as the proverb reminds us: 'Ounsik do Huminodun, ounsik do Kaamatan.' Without Huminodun, there is no harvest. And without unity, there is no future.
Nokoturu ti Huminodun, moginum ti tapai do Misompuru (Follow Huminodun's path, and drink the rice wine of unity.)