Beads of love and legacy

IN a quiet corner of her home in Miri, trays of shimmering beads catch the soft light from a desk lamp.

Carefully arranged by colour and size, they wait patiently beside neatly folded fabrics.

Seated at the table, Rudang Balang works with steady hands, threading bead after bead into intricate patterns that have been passed down through generations.

Each stitch made by her carries more than colour and design – it carries memory, heritage and love.

Rudang, a proud Lun Bawang from Ba Kelalan, was born in 1963 – the same year when Malaysia was formed.

Among friends and relatives, she is known as a cheerful, helpful and hardworking individual, and also a skilled traditional craftswoman whose creations reflect the beauty of her culture.

However, she regards her most important role has always been that of a mother.

A mother’s devotion

Rudang and her husband, Samson Bala Belaba – a retired Shell personnel and now the village headman of Pa Umor – have five children.

Their eldest, Eiligh Ruran, was born in 1995 and now works in Kuching.

She is followed by Alistair Diren, Josiah Tadem, Shaymus Libat and Jayden Kalip – born in 1997, 1999, 2001 and 2003, respectively.

Alistair and Shaymus are now working adults, while Jayden is finishing college this year.

For many years Rudang devoted herself fully to caring for her family as a full-time housewife.

She raised her children with patience and discipline, sending them to school each morning and waiting faithfully to bring them home each afternoon.

Her days were filled with cooking, washing, guiding and encouraging.

But one child requires her care in a deeper and lifelong way.

Josiah, now 27, has Down syndrome.

Rudang and Samson have always understood that their son’s journey would be different.

Raising a child with special needs requires extraordinary patience and strength.

Over the years, Rudang has guided Josiah gently through the rhythms of daily life: teaching him simple tasks, encouraging independence wherever and whenever possible, and protecting him wherever and whenever necessary.

She accepts this not as a burden, but as part of her calling as a mother.

Josiah often sits beside her when she works with her beads.

Watching his mother carefully arrange colours and patterns, he has gradually learned to join in the craft.

Sometimes he threads the beads himself, concentrating quietly as Rudang gently guides him.

For her, these moments are deeply meaningful. The beads become more than decorations; they become a bridge between mother and son, a quiet language of patience and love.

Husband’s steady support

Through every stage of family life, Rudang has never walked alone – Samson has been her steadfast partner for more than three decades.

Their marriage, solemnised in 1992, has been built on mutual respect, faith and shared responsibility.

During his years working in the oil and gas industry with Shell, Samson’s work took him to places such as Labuan, Kota Kinabalu and Bintulu.

During those periods, Rudang often managed the household and children largely on her own.

Yet whenever Samson returned home, he stepped immediately into his role as father and husband.

A tall and strong man, he is known among relatives for his gentle nature and deep devotion to his family.

He has always encouraged Rudang’s passion for beadwork and traditional costume making, recognising that her craft preserves the heritage of their people.

Today, as the headman of Pa Umor, Samson carries new responsibilities serving his community in the highlands.

While he attends to village affairs, Rudang continues caring for the home in Miri and looking after their children.

Their partnership remains one of quiet strength – a shared commitment to family and service.

Daughter of the highlands

Rudang’s story begins in the cool highlands of Ba Kelalan, nestled about 3,000 feet above sea level near the Indonesian border.

The village is known for its fertile fields, apple orchards and the famous Adan rice grown in its mountain valleys.

Natural salt springs and cool air have long shaped the unique characters of the region.

In the Lun Bawang language, ‘Ba’ means ‘wet land’, while ‘Kelalan’ refers to the river flowing through the upland valley that nourishes the surrounding fields.

Throughout generations, the Lun Bawang people had moved freely across the nearby border with Indonesia.

“We’re closely related,” says Rudang.

“We speak the same language, and share the same religion and culture.”

Among the traditions passed down through the community is a deep reverence for beads.

“In the old days, our people could exchange buffalo for beads. That was how precious they were.

“Even today, many families treasure heirloom beads passed down from their ancestors.”

Rudang says among the Lun Bawang folks, beads represent family heritage, social status and cultural identity.

Learning the craft

Like many children of Ba Kelalan, Rudang began school in her village before continuing her education in a boarding school in Lawas.

The village was fortunate to have a primary school established in the 1950s – quite rare for rural communities at the time.

She later studied at Kolej Tun Dato Tuanku Haji Bujang in Miri, and pursued Business Studies at Institut Teknologi Mara (now university) Shah Alam.

Yet even as a young girl, she was fascinated by the beadworks she saw in her village.

Elders would sit together during long afternoons threading beads into intricate traditional designs.

Rudang watched carefully, learning patterns and techniques simply by observing.

Later she began experimenting on her own: reading whatever materials that she could find, asking questions, and practising tirelessly.

Over time, her hobby gradually developed into a skill, and her skill into an art.

Some of Rudang’s pieces can fetch prices as high as RM1,000, depending on the complexity of the beadwork.

Working from home allows Rudang to continue caring for her son while pursuing her craft.

Life’s journey

Between 2003 and 2006, Rudang and Samson lived in Labuan, where travelling between there and the highlands was never easy.

At times, they boarded speedboat ferry across rough seas to Lawas before continuing by road.

“When the waves were big, we were always worried – I was holding on to my young children for dear life.

“The speedboat ferry in those days was smaller.

“But we thanked God for keeping us safe.”

Those years were busy and exhausting for Rudang, with school-going children and daily household responsibilities – yet, when night fell and the house finally grew quiet, she would take out her beads.

In 2006, the family settled in Miri, where travelling to the highlands had become easier and educational opportunities for their children got better.

At the same time, Miri was growing into a vibrant city with rising interest in indigenous crafts and culture.

More beadwork makers and craftswomen started to establish themselves commercially in centres like Borneo Craft Centre at High Street and Miri Heritage Centre.

A bead-selling enterprise, Rong Reng, had just started business that encouraged many stay-at-home craftswomen to continue their artistic works.

Miri became the perfect place for Rudang to continue her beading journey.

However, Rudang’s gifts extend beyond beadwork.

She also practises traditional massage, a skill learned from her grand-aunt in Ba Kelalan.

Many in the community affectionately call her ‘Aunty Rudang’.

Her hands have helped relieve injuries, aching muscles and sprains.

One trainee teacher once arrived with a badly-injured ankle. After several weeks of treatment, the young woman was able to return to playing volleyball.

Sometimes Rudang receives a small payment.

Sometimes, she offers her help freely.

Either way, her intention is always the same – to help others feel better.

Serving with compassion

Upon returning to Miri, Rudang volunteered twice a week at the Sunflower Centre run by the Malaysian Red Crescent (MRC), which she continued for two years.

Established in 1982, the centre supports children and young adults with mental and physical disabilities.

At the centre, Rudang helped teach students how to make baskets, trays and vases from tightly rolled newspaper and magazine page sheets.

These recycled materials look like wicker. Once coated with shellac, these creations become surprisingly strong, and also beautiful items to be sold to raise funds for the centre.

For Rudang, the work feels deeply personal.

“As a mother of a special-needs son, I understand the challenges faced by the trainees and their families,” says Rudang.

Josiah continues attending classes at the centre today.

Preserving culture through craft

Over the years Rudang’s beading has grown from a simple hobby into a small home-based enterprise.

Nevertheless, she does not seek recognition – she simply continues doing what she has always done: caring for her family, supporting her husband, helping her community, and preserving the traditions of her people.

In her small craft corner at home, beneath the gentle glow of a lamp, she threads one bead and another into place.

Each bead carries a story: a story of the highlands; a story of faith; a story of motherhood; and above all, a story of love patiently woven, one small piece at a time.