A name on the radio, a flood of memories for grieving Sabah father

KENINGAU (March 19): In a fast-moving world, sometimes it is the smallest moment that can bring time to a standstill — even the mention of a single name on the radio.

For one father in Sabah’s interior, that moment came unexpectedly during a classic segment on Radio Televisyen Malaysia (RTM), when the name “Adela” was mentioned in passing.

For most listeners, it was fleeting.

But for 69-year-old Paul Ukau, a retired taxi driver, it struck a deeply personal chord.

The name belonged to his late daughter, Adela Marie Paul Ukau Ungkiu, who passed away on Jan 13 this year.

“In that moment, everything came back,” he said in a WhatsApp message.

What was once a stream of nostalgic melodies became, for him, a corridor of memories, drawing him back to moments that time has never erased.

“Sometimes it’s not the song that moves you… but a name,” he added.

In many rural communities, radio remains more than just entertainment. It is a steady companion, filling silence, accompanying daily routines, and at times reconnecting listeners with memories of loved ones who are no longer around.

For Paul, the brief mention felt almost like a gentle calling from the past — a reminder that grief does not disappear, but instead settles into a quiet presence that lives on.

In a separate moment that further stirred his emotions, Paul recalled the appearance of a black butterfly at his home in Kampung Sandapak, Bingkor, at about 11pm recently.

He said the incident brought back memories of a critical time on Jan 6, when his daughter underwent surgery, during which a similar occurrence was observed at KPJ Hospital Kota Kinabalu.

“Scientifically, we know that moths and butterflies are attracted to light. But for me, it carries a deeper meaning.

“For others, it may seem ordinary, but to me, it is a reminder of those moments filled with prayers and hope when my daughter was in the operating room,” he said and described the experience as more than a coincidence; it reflected how certain moments remain etched in memory, continuing to offer emotional strength even in loss.

It is a common belief among certain ethnic communities in Sabah that when a butterfly flies into a house at night, it signifies a departed family member returning for a visit.

The episode serves as a poignant reminder that even the smallest details — a name on the radio or a butterfly in the quiet of the night — can carry profound meaning when tied to love and family.

In a world often focused on grand events, it is sometimes these quiet, fleeting moments that speak the loudest.

Because for those who have loved and lost, memories do not fade; they simply learn to live on in different forms.