Raya dodol-making still an honoured tradition here

2026-03-23 - 04:11

Nor Akmar Atan is making sure the legacy of dodol making doesn’t disappear. (Nor Akmar Atan pic) SHAH ALAM: For Nor Akmar Atan, returning to her family home in Kampung Keru, Batu Kikir, a little town in Negri Sembilan during Hari Raya isn’t just about celebration or catching up with relatives. For the 39-year-old, Raya simply wouldn’t be complete without participating in the three-generation-long tradition of making dodol. That sticky, gooey, sweet kampung delicacy Malaysians know and love is more than just a festive treat in Akmar’s household. Since her grandmother’s time, it has been the heart of gatherings, first during Ramadan, and now, during Hari Raya. “Normally we start making dodol on the second or third day of Raya. The moment I start making dodol, our neighbours can already smell it. They will call my mum and ask, ‘Are you all making dodol?’. She will immediately invite them over,” the Shah Alam-based Akmar shared with FMT Lifestyle. For three generations, homemade dodol and lemang have been part of Akmar’s family’s Raya tradition. (Nor Akmar Atan pic) That easy invitation captures the spirit of Raya in Batu Kikir. The house fills quickly, often before anyone realises it: siblings, cousins, aunties, all returning to the same ancestral home her mother now anchors. The first day is always the busiest, a steady flow of people moving in and out. “We eat with our own family first: lemang, rendang... then my mum’s cousins will come. After that, more relatives keep coming. The house is always full,” the youngest of six siblings enthused. Somewhere in the middle of all that, the dodol-making begins – not as a scheduled activity, but as something that naturally pulls people in. “It’s never just one person,” she said. “My mum prepares everything, my husband helps, my niece also joins in. Sometimes my brother too.” Occasionally, even neighbours or extended family step in, drawn by the activity – or simply the promise of savouring something warm and sweet at the end of it. And there is something to taste even before it is done. “After a couple of hours, you can already start eating it. They call it dodol cair. It is very soft,” Akmar pointed out, adding that during her grandmother’s days, the children would gather around the outdoor ground stove and use folded coconut leaves as spoons. Family and friends take turns to stir the thick and bubbling dodol batter, which takes four hours to cook. (Nor Akmar Atan pic) It was messy, informal, and wonderfully communal. That, perhaps, is what Akmar cherishes most. Not just the finished product packed neatly into containers, but the in-between moments – the stirring, the waiting, the small conversations that fill the hours. Even now, the tradition of giving comes first. “From one kuali, we get about 30 containers of dodol. But my mum will set aside at least half of it for family and our neighbours. Only then will we sell the rest,” said Akmar. It is a continuation of what her grandmother once did during the fasting month and Raya, when dodol was less about selling and more about sharing. “During my grandmother’s time, the whole kampung was involved,” she said. “During Raya, one house makes lemang, one house makes dodol, then they exchange.” In Batu Kikir, that sense of togetherness once took shape in Mantai Mogang – a Negri Sembilan tradition where cows are slaughtered and meat is shared with the entire village just before Ramadan, often alongside dodol-making. During Raya, dodol making at Akmar’s house brings family and neighbours together. (Nor Akmar Atan pic) While that scale has softened over the years, traces of it still linger during Hari Raya. Even when Akmar began taking orders and making dodol more seriously, the heart of this activity never changed. “For me, it’s not just about business. It’s about continuing what my mum and grandmother started.” Today, she no longer does it full-time, but every Raya, she returns to it – to the same house, the same kuali, the same ritual of stirring and sharing. And perhaps that is why she is not ready to let it fade. “I feel like I want to bring this experience back,” she said. “Not just selling dodol, but letting people come and see how we make it... to sit down and eat together.” Because in Akmar’s home, Raya has never just been about celebration. It is about people showing up, staying a little longer than planned, and leaving with a piece of something that still holds a kampung together. Follow Nor Akmar Atan on Instagram.