logo
#

Latest news with #SouthAsianWomeninTech

Not all types of palms are created equal
Not all types of palms are created equal

The Star

time17-07-2025

  • General
  • The Star

Not all types of palms are created equal

Oil palm is such an important edible oil tree crop for the world. We all know oil palm is called 'sawit' in Malaysia and Indonesia, but ever wondered where this punchy little word came from? What's in a name? Fuelled by curiosity, I dove into some etymological sleuthing. The results? As rich and tangled as a fruit bunch – thorny, colourful and full of surprises. One theory traces sawit to the Javanese phrase 'sak wit', meaning one tree trunk. A fitting nod to the palm's upright stance. Folklore even tells of a majestic tree that towered over a village in Indonesia, inspiring its name – Sawit. Now that's a name with deep roots! Then comes another twist from the Indonesian dictionary: 'sawitan', referring to matching outfits. Could this reflect the oil palm fruits' synchronised ripening – either in their reddish-nigrescens charm or the virescent variety's orange glow? Fashionable indeed. Now here's the poetic angle: in old Javanese, sawit can mean 'necklace' or 'thread'. Imagine it – oil palm as a strand connecting lives and livelihoods across generations, draped like a legacy over the shoulders of South-East Asia. But wait – Tagalog brings in a wild card. Sawit there means 'non-stop chatter' (yes, verbal diarrhoea!). Apt for a crop that fuels heated talk: costs, taxes, trade wars, EU Deforestation Regulation, sustainability – you name it, sawit stirs the pot. And just when you think the word has run dry, along come the acronyms. SAWiT or South Asian Women in Tech, or South African Wine Industry Trust. From palm oil to IT and wine, this word truly spans the globe. A spiky connection: Oil palm versus snake fruit Did you know oil palm is called Kelapa Bali in Indonesia? Don't ask me why –even Google throws up its hands. But here's a fun twist: in Bahasa Sunda, it's affectionately known as salak minyak. Just don't confuse it with salah minyak (wrong oil), because in this case, the name fits beautifully. Why? Just look at an oil palm fresh fruit bunch. Spiky, reddish, tightly packed – basically a snake fruit (salak) that hit the gym and bulked up into an agri-industrial powerhouse. Add minyak (oil), and boom! You've got the perfect metaphor for this tropical titan. Now, salak isn't just some cute name. It means 'silver' in Sundanese, a nod to its shimmering, scaly skin. Like oil palm, snake fruit hides value beneath armour – both are nature's barbed treasures. Salak, native to Indonesia and Malaysia, is a close cousin in the palm family. Its snake-like skin grabs your attention, but inside? Sweet, tangy flesh that's both refreshing and a little astringent, depending on the variety. But beware the hard seeds – crunch at your own risk. The parallels with oil palm are uncanny: both are spiky, misunderstood and brimming with utility. Oil palm powers global food and industry; salak satisfies with its exotic, natural sweetness. Calling oil palm salak minyak isn't just poetic – it's a tribute to palm family resilience. But salak's legacy isn't just botanical – it's also geographic. In Malaysia, the name crops up in Salak Tinggi, Salak South, Kampung Salak, even the Salak Expressway. It's practically a postcode celebrity. Beyond Malaysia? Mount Salak looms in West Java. There's a Salak town in North Sumatra, a Salak village in Iran, and even one in northern Cameroon. Who knew this prickly fruit would plant its name across continents? So next time you see a sawit bunch or a snake fruit, pause. Beneath the spikes lie stories of strength, sweetness, and an unexpected global journey. Kelapa Sawit: A town with ghosts Did you know there's a town in Johor called Kelapa Sawit? Tucked along the Jalan Kulai–Air Hitam road, this quiet 'pekan' traces its roots to the 1950s Malayan Emergency, when Chinese villagers were relocated into New Villages. Today, it's a Hakka cultural gem, where time slows down and Singaporeans flock in on weekends for rustic charm and food trails. But not all is calm beneath the sawit canopy. Back in the 1990s, I heard of planters' whisper about the town's police station – dubbed one of Malaysia's most haunted lockups. Whether they were pranking me or not, the tales were chilling. Detainees, they claimed, were tormented by eerie presences, with some so scared they wet themselves. Ghosts from the Emergency or World War II? Who knows. But the haunted reputation stuck. Honestly, this place could outshine escape rooms – imagine a 'One Night Behind Bars' ghost-tourism dare. Eat your heart out, Ghostbusters! The sawit name pops up everywhere – Bukit Sawit, Sawit Seberang and across kampungs and plantations in South-East Asia. It's more than just oil palm; it's folklore, economy and identity rolled into one prickly package. Oil palm or palm oil? Here's a confession that might ruffle a few journalistic feathers: I get twitchy when people mix up oil palm industry with palm oil industry. Yes, I know – it sounds nitpicky. But trust me, the difference matters. The oil palm industry refers to the upstream side – plantations, planters, smallholders and estate work. It's where the real toil happens, from seed to fruit bunches. The palm oil industry kicks in downstream – refineries, oleochemicals, packagers – the glossier, processed side of the chain. Palm oil mills? They're the midstream bridge, turning fruit bunches into crude palm oil. Not quite upstream, not quite downstream. Somewhere in between with an identity crisis. So when we talk about Malaysia's plantation sector, what's the right label? My vote: oil palm industry. That's where the ecosystem begins. It powers everything else. Without upstream, there's no golden oil downstream. Now for pet peeve number two: misidentified oil palm trees in the media. You're reading a story about oil palms and – bam! – a date palm photo appears. It's like writing about elephants and showing a mammoth. What's next? Koala piece with a kangaroo pic? And artificial intelligence (AI)? Don't get me started. Some generated 'oil palm estate' images look like tropical Minecraft – bizarre fruit clusters, sci-fi trees and pristine fields straight out of an 1980s arcade game. Real estates are muddy, sweaty and full of heart. We don't float on sleek drones – we slog through rain and blazing sun. Why this matters Here's a quick botany refresher. The palm family (Arecaceae) has 2,600 species. But only Elaeis guineensis — the African oil palm – is the high-yielding, oil-churning, tropical superstar that fuels the global edible oil market. Date palms and coconut trees? Beautiful, but not in the same productivity league. Media missteps – wrong photos, wrong terms – may seem small, but they shape perception. If we want people to understand oil palm, we need accuracy in language and visuals. It's time for more media familiarisation, some Oil Palm 101, and also better AI prompts. So, next time you spot a date palm masquerading in an oil palm article, know this: someone's palms got crossed. Let's honour the industry by getting it right – because palm oil products don't just grow on trees. They grow livelihoods and they deserve to be seen clearly and respectfully. Joseph Tek Choon Yee has over 30 years experience in the plantation industry, with a strong background in oil palm research and development, C-suite leadership and industry advocacy. The views expressed here are the writer's own.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store