By Remy Majangkim
KOTA KINABALU: There’s a specific hunger that only follows a long, exhausting day. Whether it’s a grueling cross-state drive or a sun-beaten stretch on the farm, your body doesn’t just want food—it craves comfort. For years, Borenos has delivered exactly that.
Having fried chicken for dinner always reminds me of me—of what it means to slow down and recharge. I watched a family of four tear into a steaming 9-piece bucket—half fiery spicy, half classic original—vanishing fast between happy chatter and sticky fingers. Cheap enough to feed a crowd. Good enough to feel like a feast.
The secret? The fry. In a world of dry, mass-produced fast-food bird, Borenos manages something rare: golden-crisp outside, while you taste that succulent, juicy meat within. I drained my drink, completely satisfied. No gimmicks. Just honest cooking done right.
But this isn’t just a review. It’s about something bigger.
The Geopolitics of a Chicken Bucket
Walk into any mall in Kota Kinabalu and you’ll see the usual suspects: global names with global supply chains, funneling profits out of Sabah while serving chicken that tastes like it was flown in from a frozen warehouse across the water. These aren’t our brands. They don’t answer to us.
Borenos is different. It’s local. It’s Sabahan. And in an era where food sovereignty matters more than ever, every crispy bite says something quietly radical: we don’t need to import our comfort.
When Janice Yeo pushes Borenos into Sandakan, Lahad Datu, and Tawau, she isn’t just expanding a business. She’s planting flags in towns that multinationals treat as afterthoughts—places where fuel is expensive, wages are modest, and a good meal after a hard day shouldn’t cost a day’s pay. Borenos understands that. The prices reflect it. The portions prove it.
And let’s be honest: in a country where “East Malaysia” is too often shorthand for “afterthought,” having a homegrown fast-food success story matters. It says we can build, we can compete, we can feed ourselves—and we can do it with flavor that actually tastes like home.
The East Coast Is Ready
Hard-working folks in Sandakan, Lahad Datu, and Tawau deserve more than overpriced mediocrity. They deserve a place to unwind, bite into that succulent meat, and feel like they belong. Not to a franchise. To themselves.
The East Coast is hungry—not just for food, but for recognition. Borenos, with its golden skin and juicy crunch, offers both.
So here’s my message to Janice Yeo and the Borenos team: Don’t keep us waiting.
The tables are empty. The buckets are ready. The people are here.
Just open the doors.
Bah, pegi lah kamu makan!
(This is an independent, unpaid opinion piece. Borenos just deserves the damn recognition.)
