No signal, more life

The Star

25-06-2025

FOR the past three weeks, the 1,200 residents of Kampung Keniogan – a remote island village located two hours by boat from Sandakan and an hour from Beluran – have been living in near-total digital silence.
No WhatsApp. No Facebook. No phone calls.
Their only telecommunications tower has been offline, inaccessible due to a land dispute. The road leading to it sits on private property, and the landowner has refused to allow access for maintenance and repairs.
Talks between the landowner, the telecommunications provider and villagers are expected soon. In the meantime, Keniogan has gone dark – and the community is adjusting.
Without buzzing phones or endless scrolling, time feels slower here. There's a stillness, a return to being present – and to the unfiltered rhythm of everyday life.
Children spend their afternoons riding bicycles along gravel paths. Their laughter carries through the air as they play volleyball, football and takraw until nightfall.
With no mobile coverage on the island, a young boy uses a walkie-talkie to inform his mother that he has reached home after school — one of the few ways villagers in Kampung Keniogan stay connected during the ongoing communication blackout.
One young girl said she usually spends her time watching YouTube videos. But with no Internet, boredom eventually has pushed her outside.
Now, she rides around the village almost every day.
There's been no sulking, no fuss. Just movement, play and rediscovered joy.
Most of the children know each other from the island's only primary school. The village is tightly knit – everyone connected by blood, marriage or years of shared routine.
In the afternoons, women gather in huts along the wooden walkways, chatting and keeping watch as toddlers toddle nearby.
Fishermen return in the evenings to relax with neighbours or join in the games.
'I haven't seen this many kids running around in the evenings in a long time,' said Amsinah Gulam, 49, who sells sweets from her home. 'It feels like how things were when I was growing up.'
Villagers of Kampung Keniogan gather for an evening volleyball match, one of the few activities that has brought the community closer during their three-week Internet blackout.
But the quiet comes at a cost. The lack of communication tools has created real challenges.
'If I want to invite someone to eat at my house, I have to walk there myself,' said village chief Azmi Madlis with a laugh.
'We can't even make simple phone calls, let alone receive emergency messages.'
Azmi is working to mediate a resolution.
'We're planning a meeting soon between the telco, the landowner and the villagers. We need a long-term solution. The people here depend on connectivity – not just for fun, but for school, emergencies and access to information.'
Electricity on the island is limited. Diesel-powered generators run from 6pm to 6am, which means no lights or fans during the heat of the day – yet life carries on.
In the evenings, the village comes alive. Families gather outdoors in the cooler air. Children roam freely. Neighbours linger and chat before nightfall.
Pupils of SK Keniogan spend time chatting and laughing after school — all of them familiar with one another, as the island has only one primary school.
Many of the young women have left Keniogan to work in nearby towns. Most who remain are housewives.
For some, the greatest anxiety is being unable to check on relatives outside the island.
'I cannot ask the condition of my daughter,' said one resident. 'If something happens to my family, I won't know.'
Still, not everyone is unhappy about the sudden quiet.
'There's peace here,' said Azmi. 'But we can't stay disconnected forever. We hope this issue will be resolved soon.'
Until then, Keniogan remains a rare, quiet pocket – a place where face-to-face connection has replaced screens, and the absence of a signal has unexpectedly brought the village a little closer together.