FOR years, many of us in the palm oil industry have been saying the same thing, sometimes politely, sometimes loudly, and sometimes with the tired patience of a planter waiting for rain, ripe bunches and a cooperative labour supply: Malaysia must tell the palm oil story better.
Not longer. Not louder. Better.
Now, two bald twins from Kampung Durian Runtuh have reminded us how true that is.
A kampung masterclass
The recent announcement by the Malaysian Palm Oil Council (MPOC) that the Upin & Ipin palm oil episodes, produced with Les’ Copaque Production, won two awards at the Asia-Pacific Broadcasting+ Awards 2026 is more than a pleasant public relations footnote.
It is a milestone.
It is also a cheerful tap on the shoulder for those of us who have spent years explaining palm oil through PowerPoint slides, technical papers, sustainability briefings, policy seminars and conference speeches.
All useful, of course. But let us be honest. A 40-slide deck on sustainability rarely competes well with two mischievous boys, a warm kampung setting and a story children actually want to watch.
According to MPOC, the two episodes had accumulated 171 million YouTube views and counting: 119 million for Minyak Sawit from Season 18 and 52 million for Wira Minyak Sawit from Season 19.
Out of curiosity, I checked again. The tally has already climbed to about 175 million views, with the first episode nearing 122 million and the second crossing 53 million.
In the digital world, it seems, even palm oil can still ripen after harvest.
Even allowing for the usual digital caveat that “views” are not the same as unique human beings counted one by one at estate muster, the number remains extraordinary.
It is not every day that palm oil travels so far without needing a tanker, a trade mission, a tariff schedule or a heated rebuttal to yet another misleading campaign.
For that, hearty congratulations are due to MPOC, Les’ Copaque, the creative team behind Upin & Ipin, and all who had the foresight to understand that palm oil communication cannot remain trapped in old formats.
This achievement deserves more than a polite corporate clap. It deserves a standing ovation, preferably with a little kampung rhythm in the background.
I had earlier written in The Star that MPOC’s partnership with Les’ Copaque was a masterclass in creative communication.
At that time, the first episode had already drawn remarkable attention.
The latest figures now show that the idea did not merely work. It flew.
And it flew because the message was wrapped in something deeper than promotion. It was wrapped in culture, humour, familiarity and trust.
When facts wear a smile
That is the genius of Upin & Ipin.
The characters do not arrive like official spokesmen wearing badges, holding cue cards and clearing their throats before saying: “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to explain the national importance of palm oil.”
They enter homes as friends.
Children listen. Parents smile. Grandparents understand. Teachers find a useful tool. Suddenly, palm oil is no longer merely a defensive subject surrounded by controversy. It becomes part of a shared Malaysian story.
That is powerful.
The Minyak Sawit episode covered the palm oil value chain, from plantation operations to downstream applications and the sector’s contribution to the economy.
It also introduced sustainability elements such as biomass reuse, replanting and biodiversity.
Wira Minyak Sawit then carried the story further into a festival setting, linking palm oil with sustainability practices and everyday industry functions.
This is precisely the kind of communication our industry needs: educational but not preachy, factual but not stiff, national in character yet international in reach.
For too long, palm oil has allowed others to define it.
In some corners of the world, it has been reduced to a cartoon villain: forests gone, orangutans crying, consumers made to feel virtuous by avoidance.
The actual story is far more complex: smallholder livelihoods, food security, land efficiency, certification, science, nutrition, industry standards, replanting, biodiversity corridors, labour realities and the long, imperfect but continuing journey of improvement.
But complexity does not go viral easily. Villains do. That is why storytelling matters.
The first plantation is attention
Good storytelling does not mean hiding hard truths under a glossy label.
It means explaining the fuller picture in a way people can receive. It means moving beyond defensive rebuttal into confident narration.
It means showing not only the commodity, but also the people, families, communities, scientists, workers, smallholders and institutions behind it.
Palm oil is not just oil in a bottle. It is also food on tables, income in villages, science in laboratories, employment in estates, processing in mills, logistics on roads, oleochemicals in factories and livelihoods across a long value chain.
The story is there.
The question is whether we tell it well enough for people to care.
In another earlier Tek-Talks piece, I argued that palm oil’s future narrative will not be secured in boardrooms alone.
It will be shaped in universities, on digital platforms, in animation studios and within the restless imagination of a generation growing up inside algorithms.
The success of Upin & Ipin confirms this.
Today’s young people do not wait politely for industry position papers.
They meet the world through screens.
Their views are shaped by videos, short clips, memes, influencers, cartoons and algorithms that decide what appears before their eyes.
If palm oil does not enter that space with intelligence and charm, misinformation will happily move in rent-free, put its feet on the table and start rearranging the furniture.
That is why 175 million views matter. They are not merely numbers. They are signs of attention.
And in the modern world, attention is the first plantation we must cultivate.
Beyond the lucky campaign
Of course, we should not become drunk on numbers. Viral success is not the same as permanent understanding.
One or two successful episodes do not automatically transform global perception.
Two sparks do not make a bonfire.
But they can light one, if the firewood is ready and someone has the discipline to keep feeding it.
This is where the lesson becomes important.
The Upin & Ipin success must not be treated as a lucky campaign to be filed away under “well done”.
It should become a model.
Build on it. Translate it. Subtitle it. Localise it for key markets. Use it in classrooms. Let youth groups discuss it.
Let teachers adapt it. Let industry trainers use it. Let smallholders feel proud of it.
Let overseas consumers see that Malaysian palm oil has a human face, not merely a tariff code.
The same principle applies to MPOB’s Palmy series, which I also praised earlier. If Upin & Ipin humanises the palm oil story, Palmy helps democratise the science.
Together, they point to a better path: science with soul, facts with flavour, education with entertainment.
That combination is not childish. It is strategic.
In fact, the industry should now think much bigger. Why not more animated explainers on nutrition, the Malaysian Sustainable Palm Oil standard, replanting, mechanisation, wildlife management, biomass, food applications, oleochemicals and the role of palm oil in everyday life?
Why not versions for India, China, the Middle East, Africa and Europe? Why not collaborations with chefs, teachers, youth creators, universities, hawkers, nutritionists and smallholders?
Palm oil appears in kitchens, bakeries, biscuits, soaps, shampoos, detergents, cosmetics, oleochemicals and bio-based materials.
It is one of the most versatile oils in the world, yet too often it is introduced to the public only when controversy knocks on the door.
Surely we can do better than waiting for critics to set the exam questions before we start revising.
If we can spend generously on overseas conferences, booths, banners, brochures and glossy reports, surely we can invest more seriously in the living theatre of modern communication.
A slick lesson, well told
Palm oil has never lacked substance. It has science. It has productivity. It has livelihoods. It has versatility. It has a powerful Malaysian story.
What it has often lacked is the confidence to tell that story with imagination. That may now be changing.
The awards at the Asia-Pacific Broadcasting+ Awards 2026 are therefore not only recognition for Les’ Copaque and MPOC.
They are recognition that palm oil communication can be creative, credible and culturally rooted at the same time.
Education and entertainment need not quarrel like old uncles at a coffee shop. Done well, they can sit at the same table, order kopi, and produce something memorable.
Upin & Ipin may be small, bald and fictional. But in this case, they have carried the Malaysian palm oil story further than many serious adults in serious suits ever managed.
That should make us smile. More importantly, it should make us think.
For those curious to see how palm oil can be explained with warmth, humour and a kampung smile, do search and watch the two Upin & Ipin episodes on YouTube: Minyak Sawit from Season 18 and Wira Minyak Sawit from Season 19.
They show that when facts are carried by good storytelling, even a complex commodity can become watchable, teachable and memorable.
If palm oil is to win the future, it must not only plant better, mill better, certify better and explain its sustainability credentials better. It must also tell better stories.
It must speak in language that grandchildren and children remember, parents trust, teachers use and international audiences understand.
Because in the end, palm oil will not be loved merely because we insist it should be.
‘Tak kenal maka tak cinta’. One does not love what one does not know.
And thanks to two kampung boys, millions more may now know us a little better.
Joseph Tek Choon Yee has over 30 years experience in the plantation industry, with a strong background in oil palm research and development, C-suite leadership and industry advocacy. The views expressed here are the writer’s own
