AirBorneo: A matter of identity, autonomy

THERE is a particular kind of travel ritual familiar to those who fly within Sarawak’s interior.

It is not about boarding passes or frequent-flyer points; instead, it involves a weighing scale.

Years ago, when I boarded rural air service flights such as those covering Miri-Marudi or Lawas-Ba Kelalan sector, the check-in process always came with a small sense of dread.

Before being assigned a seat, passengers were weighed – and not at all discreetly.

First, your name would be called, and you would be escorted to a weighing machine placed some distance away from the check-in counter.

Then came the worst part: your name, and your weight (including whatever bag you were carrying) would be ‘sang out’ loudly by the staff at the scale to their colleague at the check-in counter.

For most women, and quite a few men, weight is a closely guarded secret, kept right alongside our age.

So having it announced publicly can feel mortifying, leaving you wishing you could explain to every bystander present that you have probably overpacked.

But as embarrassing as it may be, the process is necessary to ensure that small-capacity aircraft operating rural interior routes are properly weight-balanced and able to fly safely.

So when AirBorneo was announced, I did not think first of logos, livery or jet ambitions.

Instead, I thought of that weighing scale at the airport, because AirBorneo is not just an airline, as it is a recognition of a reality long lived in East Malaysia.

AirBorneo, born from the acquisition of MASwings, is Malaysia’s first state-owned airline.

That fact alone makes it historic.

But its deeper meaning lies not in ownership structure, but in its actual capability for independent action and decision-making.

For decades, connectivity in Sarawak and Sabah has been decided by the federal government.

The routes, frequencies and priorities, which are often determined by commercial logic, do not sit comfortably with geography as vast and scattered as Borneo, either due to ignorance or commercial value.

Flying in this part of Malaysia has never been merely about convenience; it has been about access to hospitals, schools, work, family, and sometimes, survival.

When a flight is cancelled in Peninsular Malaysia, it is an inconvenience.

However, when a flight is cancelled in the Borneo interior, it can mean a missed medical appointment, a delayed delivery, a missed international connection flight, or days of waiting.

AirBorneo represents a quiet, but deliberate shift – a decision that Borneo understands Borneo best.

Those who have only flown between major cities may not appreciate what air travel means in Sarawak’s interior.

Roads are long, rivers dictate movement, and weather is a factor not just in comfort, but in safety.

That is why the image of a passenger being weighed before boarding does not feel demeaning here – it feels practical.

Every kilogramme matters in a small turboprop aircraft.

Safety trumps vanity.

Everyone understands this, even as we laugh nervously about it.

This shared understanding is part of the Borneo experience that is shaped by compromise, resilience and quiet cooperation.

And it is precisely this lived experience that makes the promise of AirBorneo resonate beyond aviation charts and business plans.

Names carry intention, and ‘AirBorneo’ is not a neutral choice.

It does not say Sarawak alone. It does not exclude Sabah or Labuan.

It invokes the island: geographically, culturally and historically.

It reflects a shared identity that predates administrative boundaries.

This is not about ethnic identity or political assertion.

It is about belonging; about being seen and acknowledged within the national framework.

That said, symbolism alone cannot keep planes in the air.

A state-owned airline must still answer hard questions of financial sustainability, operational excellence, and regulatory compliance.

Pride must be matched with professionalism, but rural air services must not be sacrificed in pursuit of commercial ambition.

Autonomy does not mean freedom from scrutiny. In fact, it demands more of it.

And as AirBorneo increasingly speaks of international routes, jet operations and global connectivity, a gentle caution is in order.

Ambition is natural, and Sarawak deserves its place on the world map, but the very soul of AirBorneo was not carved from international aspirations.

It was carved from the humbler, harder need for reliable intra-Borneo mobility.

There is a quiet fear, whispered in small towns and upriver settlements, that glamour may overshadow necessity.

International flights may bring prestige, but rural flights bring dignity that earns gratitude as it fulfils the founding promise.

So this much must be said, gently but firmly – AirBorneo must never forget why it was born.

Global ambitions are admirable; local responsibilities are indispensable.

AirBorneo also quietly challenges an old assumption; that centralisation is always efficiency.

Perhaps it is time to recognise that regional solutions can strengthen the federation, rather than weaken it.

When regions are trusted to manage their own needs, the national fabric becomes more resilient, not less.

A confident Malaysia should not fear confident regions.

AirBorneo has not yet taken flight, and its future will be shaped by many variables.

But even before its first official departure, it has already carried something important.

It carries the memory of weighing scales at small airports, of practical compromises, and of journeys taken not for leisure but for life.

It carries the belief that connectivity is not a luxury, but dignity made visible.

And when AirBorneo finally lifts off, it will be carrying more than passengers and cargo.

It will be carrying a long-held conviction that Borneo deserves to chart its own flight path: with humility, and a clear understanding of its own weight.