If I were palm oil, I would whisper from the pan: Relax. If I were palm oil, I would observe quietly: food fights rarely reveal culinary certainty; they expose identity anxiety. If I were palm oil, I would gently remind everyone that sambal – deep, glossy, slow-cooked sambal – owes its confidence to me. If I were palm oil, I would say this without apology: palm sugar may be my sweeter sibling – the one everyone applauds – but I am the one sweating at the stove. And if I were palm oil, I would leave you with this gently sizzling reflection: Unity is not built in speeches or slogans.

Source: The Star February 24, 2026 08:32 UTC