THE debate over social media has always split opinion, whether the technology does society more good than harm.
In Malaysia, where 99.7% of Internet users are active on social media and there are more than 25 million social media user identities, digital platforms have become one of the country’s primary sources of information.
The risks are real. The misuse of social media can have profound consequences, particularly for children and young people, and concerns over online safety have rightly prompted discussions on setting a minimum age for social media registration.
Yet there is another side to this story. Across Malaysia, young people, particularly from Indigenous communities, are using digital platforms not simply for entertainment, but to educate, preserve culture, and create new economic opportunities.
Long before search engines and social media, knowledge was preserved through generations of lived experience and shared within communities.
It was passed down through stories, traditions, and meaningful conversations with elders.
Today, the way people access information has shifted, from oral stories told by elders to machines that surface our interests through personalised algorithms.
A single scroll through social media can introduce us to a new culture, explain a complex issue, or spark curiosity about places and people we might never have encountered otherwise.
For Gen Z (people born bet-ween 1997 and 2012) in particular, learning no longer happens only through textbooks or in the classroom, it rather begins on screen.
Social media has evolved beyond a platform for entertainment into a space for education and storytelling, leading to transformative opportunities for communities.
Digital storytellers are introducing audiences to perspectives that have long been underrepresented in mainstream conversations.
One content creator, Nur Rafidah Man, an Orang Asli youth from the Jahut tribe in Temerloh, Pahang, was able to pursue the path of entrepreneurship on TikTok selling ointments made from traditional herbs.
It began with training from a digital storytelling workshop at a school in her town; she then started her own TikTok account to sell the ointment and now has expanded to coffee.
Her journey did not end there: she reportedly donated a sum of money she generated from the profits of the sales of her products to the very school that had given her the opportunity to explore digital storytelling and entrepreneurship.
It is a striking example of how social media, used the right way, can become a beacon of hope for people, especially the Orang Asli.
Meanwhile in Sabah, Priceal Sharon Jamain, known online as “Karabaw Monster”, shares engaging content that educates audiences about the state’s biodiversity and the knowledge and way of life of its Orang Asal communities.
As a forest ranger, she fields questions from social media users eager to learn more about Malaysia’s rich biodiversity.
While these online platforms have helped bring indigenous stories to wider audiences, visibility alone does not guarantee understanding.
Traditional knowledge is far more than information that can be condensed into a one-minute video or shared through a social media post.
It is easy to assume that knowledge can be acquired in an instant. But some knowledge cannot be searched, downloaded or summarised. It is passed down through generations and sustained through cultural practice.
For Orang Asli and Orang Asal communities in Malaysia, traditional knowledge reflects a deep understanding of forests, rivers, wildlife and the traditions that guide how these natural resources are cared for and used sustainably.
This knowledge has helped communities live in harmony with nature for generations, long before terms such as biodiversity conservation and sustainable development became part of everyday conversation.
Today, rapid development and changing lifestyles are placing increasing pressure on the transfer of traditional knowledge.
With fewer opportunities to learn from those who have safeguarded it for generations, this knowledge risks fading over time. Protecting it means supporting the people who carry it.
This includes strengthening efforts by governments and local authorities to preserve Orang Asli and Orang Asal knowledge alongside the forests and natural ecosystems that have shaped it for generations.
Protecting traditional knowledge also means recognising the rights of indigenous communities as custodians of this knowledge. Through Malaysia’s Access and Benefit-Sharing (ABS) efforts, mechanisms are being strengthened to ensure that when biodiversity and traditional knowledge are used, communities are meaningfully involved and benefits are shared fairly and equitably.
At the United Nations Development Programme Malaysia (UNDP), the Agents of Change project supports Apa Kata Wanita Orang Asli (AKWOA), initiated by Eliana and Diana Tan Beng Hui from Kampung Petoh, Pahang, working through the Freedom Film Network to produce short films that centre indigenous community perspectives on business, and the environmental.
Such initiatives help ensure that indigenous knowledge is further preserved and protected for future generations.
Through digital storytelling, they are helping shift that narrative by creating space for indigenous communities to tell their own stories, helping more Malaysians better understand their communities.
As we mark the International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples today and International Youth Day on Aug 12, it is worth reflecting on traditional knowledge and the role of young people to keeping it alive.
As the next generation of custodians, indigenous youth are uniquely placed to connect tradition with technology.
Digital platforms give them the opportunity to tell their own stories, reach wider audiences and share perspectives that are too often missing from mainstream conversations.
These platforms cannot replace traditional knowledge, but they can help more people recognise its value.
Nurin Sofiya Hairil Yahri is a communications assistant at UNDP Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei Darussalam. The views expressed here are solely the writer’s own.
