Driving around Raub, a small town in Malaysia, it's impossible to miss the prickly fruit that powers its economy.
You can smell it from the steady stream of trucks winding through mountain roads, leaving a faint fragrance on their trails. You can see it too: the green spikes of a giant sculpture, murals painted fondly on low walls, and road signs that proclaim: 'Welcome to the home of Musang King durians.'
Once a gold mining town in the 19th Century, Raub has seen its economy take on a new hue of yellow in recent years. Today it's better known as the land of the Musang King — a buttery, bittersweet variety that the Chinese have dubbed the 'Hermès of durians', as prized as the French fashion house.
Raub is one of many Southeast Asian towns that sit at the heart of a global durian rush, driven by China's growing demand. In 2024, China imported a record $7 billion (£5.2 billion) worth of durians — a three-fold increase from 2020. This is where more than 90% of the world's durian exports are now headed.
'Even if only 2% of Chinese people want to buy durians, that's more than enough business,' says Chee Seng Wong, factory manager of Fresco Green, a durian exporter in Raub.
Wong recalls how farmers cut down durian trees to make room for oil palms, the country's main cash crop, during an economic downturn in the 1990s. 'Now it's the other way round. They're chopping oil palms to grow durians again.'
The durian, with its aroma likened to cabbage and sulphur, packs a pungent punch that has led to it being banned in some public spaces. Despite its polarizing odor, it is gaining fans in China: it's seen as an exotic gift and a status symbol among the affluent.
Thailand and Vietnam dominate as the top durian suppliers to China, but Malaysia’s reputation is growing due to premium varieties like the Musang King, which can cost anywhere from $14 to $100 depending on quality.
In Raub, local business successes are thriving, such as Uncle Thing, a 72-year-old farmer who has transformed his life through durian cultivation.
However, as the demand increases, challenges such as land disputes and food safety concerns loom. The eager anticipation for home-grown durians from China further complicates the market. For local farmers, maintaining their quality and adapting to new demands is key to surviving in this flourishing yet competitive market.
You can smell it from the steady stream of trucks winding through mountain roads, leaving a faint fragrance on their trails. You can see it too: the green spikes of a giant sculpture, murals painted fondly on low walls, and road signs that proclaim: 'Welcome to the home of Musang King durians.'
Once a gold mining town in the 19th Century, Raub has seen its economy take on a new hue of yellow in recent years. Today it's better known as the land of the Musang King — a buttery, bittersweet variety that the Chinese have dubbed the 'Hermès of durians', as prized as the French fashion house.
Raub is one of many Southeast Asian towns that sit at the heart of a global durian rush, driven by China's growing demand. In 2024, China imported a record $7 billion (£5.2 billion) worth of durians — a three-fold increase from 2020. This is where more than 90% of the world's durian exports are now headed.
'Even if only 2% of Chinese people want to buy durians, that's more than enough business,' says Chee Seng Wong, factory manager of Fresco Green, a durian exporter in Raub.
Wong recalls how farmers cut down durian trees to make room for oil palms, the country's main cash crop, during an economic downturn in the 1990s. 'Now it's the other way round. They're chopping oil palms to grow durians again.'
The durian, with its aroma likened to cabbage and sulphur, packs a pungent punch that has led to it being banned in some public spaces. Despite its polarizing odor, it is gaining fans in China: it's seen as an exotic gift and a status symbol among the affluent.
Thailand and Vietnam dominate as the top durian suppliers to China, but Malaysia’s reputation is growing due to premium varieties like the Musang King, which can cost anywhere from $14 to $100 depending on quality.
In Raub, local business successes are thriving, such as Uncle Thing, a 72-year-old farmer who has transformed his life through durian cultivation.
However, as the demand increases, challenges such as land disputes and food safety concerns loom. The eager anticipation for home-grown durians from China further complicates the market. For local farmers, maintaining their quality and adapting to new demands is key to surviving in this flourishing yet competitive market.
