Ancestral Legacy: A Remembrance of My Father, the Tribal Chief Watched Over by Nine Guardians

On a quiet night, when I was still a child and the world felt far wider than my own footsteps, a small campfire burned softly before us. Its flames danced against the darkness, while the sounds of the forest formed a faithful rhythm that embraced the night. With a calm yet authoritative voice, my father began to tell his story.

Illustration of my father telling me a story.

My father was the chief of the Baju Bolang Tribe, a leader of a small community that lived closely together, bound by strong ties and a courage passed down through generations. In old stories, the Baju Bolang were known as guardians of the village, those who stood at the front line whenever peace was disturbed and honor had to be defended, even when numbers were never on their side.

My father is a tiger chief, B. Datuak Mangkuto.  

The name Baju Bolang was born from nature itself. In the forest, there is only one creature that wears stripes as a sign of strength and vigilance: the tiger. The stripes on its body are not merely patterns but the language of nature, speaking of balance between bravery and wisdom. From this, the tribe took its representation, the tiger as a symbol of guardianship, territorial protection, and a being that does not attack without reason, yet never retreats when it must stand its ground.

My father always connected the story of this tribe with the Minangkabau philosophy, Alam Takambang Jadi Guru, nature unfolded as a teacher. Nature is not merely a place to live but a source of knowledge and moral guidance. From the tiger, the Baju Bolang learned discipline, loyalty to their territory, and a form of courage born from responsibility rather than anger. The tiger does not live in large groups, yet its presence alone is enough to maintain balance in the forest, just as the Baju Bolang Tribe, small in number, holds a role of great strength and significance.

In every story my father told, there was an implicit message passed down through generations. Humans are never greater than nature, and true strength is not measured by numbers, but by the ability to protect, to safeguard, and to live in harmony with the environment. Baju Bolang is not merely the name of a tribe but an identity woven from nature, the tiger, and the Minangkabau philosophy of life, a reminder that as long as nature remains open and alive, it will always offer lessons in courage, balance, and responsibility.

The story did not end with symbols and philosophy. My father then continued in a softer voice, as if paying respect to something far older than human age. He said that he was guarded by nine tigers, protectors inherited from the ancestors of the Baju Bolang. They were not tigers in an ordinary physical form, but guardians of nature, present as a balance between humans and the forest, between the visible world and that which can only be felt.

The nine tigers do not always reveal themselves. They appear in intuition, in dreams, and in moments of forest silence that suddenly feels alive. Each tiger has its own role, watching over steps, intentions, and boundaries that must not be crossed. Our ancestors believed that as long as a person lives in harmony with nature and upholds the responsibility of being a guardian of the village, the tigers will remain faithful in their watch.

My father emphasised that this protection was not a sign of power but of responsibility. To be guarded means to be constantly reminded not to cross boundaries, not to damage what is meant to be protected. This teaching returns to the philosophy of Alam Takambang Jadi Guru. Nature offers protection, but it also delivers warnings. The tiger protects, yet it also demands respect.

For the Baju Bolang Tribe, the nine tigers are a bond between the past and the present. They stand as a symbol that ancestral heritage is not merely a name or a story but a way of life that must be practiced. As long as the forest still stands and humans are willing to learn from nature, the guardians will continue to exist, reminding us that true courage lies in the ability to maintain balance.

That night ended in a deep silence. The campfire slowly diminished, leaving behind glowing embers that pulsed like the breath of nature. My father added no further words. He simply gazed into the darkness of the forest, as if listening to something beyond our hearing. In that silence, the story had ended, yet its meaning had only just begun to unfold.

I realized then that the story of Baju Bolang, the tiger, and the nine guardians was neither a tale to be feared nor one to be glorified. It was a gentle reminder of humanity’s place within nature, that life is about safeguarding trust, recognizing limits, and having the courage to stand when balance is threatened. That night, nature became a teacher that spoke without words, and we became students who learned through feeling.

Memories with my father in Bukittinggi, West Sumatra.

I now realize that our conversation that night was not merely a story but a transmission of values from a father to his child. Within it were lessons of quiet courage, steadfast responsibility, and the belief that as long as humans choose to live in harmony with nature, the guardians will remain faithful. Beneath the night sky, my father’s story merged once more with the forest, the place where all stories begin and to which, in the end, they return.