The sun dipped below the canopy, casting long shadows across the forest floor. There I stood with my feet firmly planted in the ground. The towering dipterocarp trees loomed above — a testament to the footprint of Pliocene — an ancestral place I’d known long before my arrival. I found myself alone in the rainforest for the first time, surrounded by a rare symphony of endemic birds, primates and reptiles.

Borneo was a place of contradictions. It was the perfect coexistence of chaos and stillness. And I, a mere outsider, was privileged to be an observer in a world ruled by its own design.

The darkness descended quickly and I felt a sense of urgency to navigate back to main road. Suddenly, a child appeared on my exit route and motioned me to come along. Without hesitation, I obliged.

Trailing his steps down a narrow path into another part of the forest, we approached a patch of wild bamboo and he pointed up. Swinging playfully from the bamboo stalks were three juvenile orangutans, enjoying the last bit of light before they were called home.

In that moment, as the child and I silently observed these magnificent apes in their natural habitat, the outside world disappeared. The rainforest had invited us in and I sealed my fate with a whisper,

I’ll do everything in my power to protect these creatures and this rainforest.

Borneo changed the trajectory of my entire life.