The current fruit season has been marked by unpredictable weather and a wave of fevers, thanks to the heaty fruits like durians and rambutans.
More notably, it’s brought with it an array of unique tropical fruits, many of which may be unfamiliar to most of us.
From the diverse varieties of matoa and brazilian longan to the lesser-known tampoi silau, Borneo’s fruit season offers more than just a taste of its endemic flora – it opens a window into the rich ethnic cultures that thrive here.
Today’s fruit spotlight is known by various names – maritus, meritus, maitus, or mitus – depending on the ethnic group. No matter the name, this fruit is intricately tied to the Tutong District.
From the Dusuns of Mukim Lamunin to the Kedayans of Kampong Kulapis, this fruit is more than just nourishment as it plays an integral role in cultural traditions and even community games.
Scientifically known as Canarium littorale, the maritus is related to another local treasure, the Bornean olive or kembayau. The edible seed of the maritus closely resembles that of the kembayau, only on a much larger scale.
The maritus tree is larger and taller than the kembayau tree, with leaves of a similar size.
The trunk circumference can exceed six metres (m), and the tree can reach heights of 60 to 80m, and is said to live up until 70 to 80 years as well.
When ripe, the maritus fruit is light green, and the seeds are extracted after the fruit is peeled. The seeds of both the maritus and kembayau fruits have hard shells, with whitish, compressed cotyledons inside and a rich, nutty flavour.
“When the maritus bears fruit, the community considers it a ‘grand fruit year,’ believing that whenever this happens, the entire fruit season will be abundant – just like this year,” shared Eyon Ukoi, who leads a community-run farm-to-table initiative in Tutong District.
Unlike many tropical fruits in Brunei, the maritus is not commercialised here, therefore not cultivated, as it is considered by many as a wild forest fruit, therefore its fruiting season can be unpredictable.
“People from the community often mix it with bamboo shoots, banana stalks, young jackfruit, and cassava leaves,” she added, noting that the fruit is being seen or sold less and less as time goes by.
Meanwhile, for the Kedayans of Kampong Kulapis, the maritus fruit was closely tied to the tradition of badudun – a term in the Kedayan dialect that refers to gathering or hanging out.
In the 1960s, when entertainment options were limited, the maritus fruit became a cherished pastime for the younger generation.
While adults engaged in religious lessons – learning to pray, recite the Muqaddam (basic Islamic texts), and study Al-Quran – the teenagers would often retreat to another part of the house to play a game called tilu, tilan, gulimang and bangkung.
This game required four players, each representing one of the ‘houses’ in the game’s name. Maritus seeds were distributed among the players, who would secretly stake a number of seeds and then place them in the centre for counting.
Today, while the maritus fruit is less commonly seen, its role in gatherings is remembered fondly. As the Kedayans of Kampong Kulapis would say, without the maritus fruit, the game tilu, tilan, gulimang and bangkung would fade away from memory, like a cherished tradition left behind.
Whether for nourishment or play, the maritus fruit’s role in Brunei’s diverse ethnic cultures is truly captivating.
It highlights how our local flora are woven into the fabric of our daily lives, adding richness to our cultural traditions and serving as a reminder of the close bond between our environment and our heritage.
As we look to the future, it’s worth pondering how much of this vibrant heritage might slip through our fingers. – Wardi Wasil
