IF ever there was proof that people can change, Adrian "Edy" Siaw Chee Hua is living, breathing evidence of how one person can transform their life — and the lives of countless others — by choosing to see and act.
"The person I was before is so different from who I am today," the 28-year-old says with a quiet conviction, his baby-faced features earnest as he leans forward on our Zoom call. It's hard not to be drawn in by his sincerity.
By "before", Edy (as he prefers to be called) is talking about life before the Covid-19 pandemic — a time when responsibilities seemed lighter, the world simpler and the future full of easy possibilities. But it was the chaos of the pandemic that stirred something in him. As borders closed and food supplies dwindled, Edy found himself compelled to act.
What started as a small gesture — setting up a food bank at a local school with help from family and friends — quickly grew into a larger mission.
"I saw how desperate people were. They needed food, yes, but more than that, they needed hope," he says. That realisation turned a simple act of kindness into a purpose-driven calling.
Edy's efforts soon gained attention on TikTok, where his videos struck a chord with millions. Through heartfelt clips documenting his food bank initiatives during the Movement Control Order (MCO), he gave viewers a window into the lives of rural Sabahans and their struggles. But more importantly, he inspired people to get involved, showing that anyone could make a difference.
Even as the world adjusted back to normal, Edy refused to stop. Instead, he expanded his mission, travelling to rural areas across Sabah with his team to deliver essential supplies — food, electrical items and even study materials for students. House by house, village by village, Edy's work touched lives in ways that go far beyond physical aid.
What makes his story remarkable isn't just the generosity of his actions, but also the ripple effect they've created. "It's not just about me," he insists, adding: "It's about showing people that we can do something. We don't have to wait for someone else to step in."
STARTING SMALL
Edy, a small-town boy from Papar, Sabah, grew up with strong values of hard work and family. "We come from a small town," he says, adding: "Even while I was still in school, I helped out at my father's shop. So, once I finished my Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia, it was natural for me to go back to helping him." His father, a diehard football fan, ran a sports shop focused on purveying football gear, whereas his mother is the headmistress of a primary school in Papar.
The second of four siblings, Edy describes his childhood as "peaceful", filled with dreams of becoming an army officer, a doctor and "so many other things!" he shares with a laugh. But life in a small town meant practicality often outweighed ambition. Helping the family came first, and Edy embraced that responsibility wholeheartedly.
He first started dabbling in social media out of sheer boredom. "This is Papar!" he exclaims, adding with a grin: "Nothing ever happens here!" What began as a casual pastime was, as he puts it, just for suka-suka — a bit of fun to pass the time. "Bukan mau buat benda tu sebagai career lah!" (I didn't turn it into a career!) he adds wryly.
Soon, opportunities began to roll in. Edy began appearing in local series like Gaduh-Gaduh Sayang and teaming up with Hannah Delisha for the travel vlog #expeRIAnce Ready Set Action. "It must be your looks!" I tease, and he bursts into laughter.
With the rise of social media, Edy transitioned into content creation, steadily building a following on platforms like TikTok, Dubsmash and Instagram. "At the time, it was all just for fun," he reiterates with a casual shrug. "I was just filling my time and creating content."
Looking back, Edy talks about those days with a mix of humour and detachment, almost like he's describing someone else's life. He remembers spending hours creating social media posts that got likes and followers but left him feeling empty.
Even his old tweets, he says, feel like they came from a stranger — a younger version of himself chasing attention in ways that now seem so far removed from the person he's become.
"I was so different back then," he sighs, looking sheepish. "You wouldn't have even seen me give a ringgit to someone in need. People who knew me then can tell how much I've changed."
IN TIMES OF NEED
It was during the lockdown that Edy began to truly understand the devastating effects of the pandemic. In his small town of Papar, people were struggling just to put food on the table. "I tried to do my bit," he recalls, explaining how he used his social media platforms to promote small businesses for free, hoping to give them a lifeline.
One desperate request came from a young man in Johor. "Can you please help me?" the message read. "My father is a lorry driver who lost his job during the pandemic, and my mother is just a housewife."
Touched by the plea, Edy shared the young man's business online. To his surprise, the response was overwhelming — people stepped in to help and the young man was able to keep his family afloat. "He thanked me so much," Edy says thoughtfully. "That was one of the turning points for me."
As those posts gained more traction, people began reaching out to Edy directly, asking him to do more for those in need. Their words stayed with him, and with the support of his family, Edy decided it was time to take action. He stepped up, providing direct aid to struggling families during the lockdown.
"Back then, life was all about me," he admits, adding: "I was focused on entertaining myself, having fun, and living in my own bubble. But as I started to see the hardships people were facing, I couldn't ignore it anymore."
Continuing, he says: "I began asking myself, how can I help? What can I do today to make someone's life easier? The more I saw the need around me, the stronger the urge became to step up and do something meaningful."
The first thing Edy did was set up a food bank — something almost unheard of in Sabah during the lockdowns. "It was a new idea back then," he recalls. Even finding a location was a struggle, until a friend suggested using a local school. Determined to make it work, Edy got to planning. The first food bank was set up at SK Pomotodon Inanam in September 2020.
By 7am on the first day, the food bank was stocked with essentials — rice, cooking oil, eggs, sugar, noodles, canned food. But within minutes, chaos erupted. People rushed in, grabbing more than they needed, and by 7.30am, the shelves were completely cleared. "It was madness," Edy recalls. "We hadn't expected such a huge response."
The experience was an eye-opener for Edy. "We had to quickly set rules — four items per family," he recounts, elaborating: "But even then, it wasn't easy. How do you decide who's really in need, kan?"
Despite the initial chaos, Edy refused to give up. Every morning, the food bank was restocked with essentials, and with each passing day, he learnt how to manage the overwhelming demand effectively.
In just one month, the food bank had provided basic supplies to over 100 families — families who, during the lockdowns, had no way to earn a living or access necessities. The rural communities of Sabah were among the hardest hit, with many losing their livelihoods overnight. For these families, Edy's food bank wasn't just a source of sustenance — it was a beacon of hope during an incredibly dark time.
"That first day taught me so much," he reflects. "The need out there was bigger than I ever imagined, and it made me realise just how important it was to keep going."
Buoyed by the success of the first food bank at Inanam, Edy expanded his efforts by setting up a second food bank in the Menggatal district. The overwhelming response to the initial initiative made it clear that the need for assistance was far greater than he'd imagined.
NO LOOKING BACK
Edy's next mission was to help students stranded in colleges during the lockdown, unable to return home or access basic necessities. It was a daunting task, but he knew he had to start somewhere.
He also went from house to house, seeking out families in need. To ensure that his efforts reached the right people, he turned to village heads and community members, relying on their knowledge to identify where help was needed most.
"I needed details. I had to make sure the aid went to those who were betul-betul susah (truly struggling)," he explains. The villagers became his eyes and ears, guiding him to families who'd slipped through the cracks. Their insights were invaluable, and together, they formed an informal network of care that ensured Edy's efforts made a real difference.
He began documenting his efforts to reach the poorest of the poor, using his platform to shine a light on the hidden struggles faced by those living in Malaysia's rural interiors. Through his videos, he showcased cases of families without basic necessities — homes with no running water, no electricity and little access to essentials.
"I think a lot of people don't realise that there are Malaysians living in these conditions, especially in Sabah," he says, adding: "I wanted people to see the reality… how much these families are struggling, so that we can all do something to help."
"Every day, every week, there's always a desperate plea for help," Edy shares, adding: "I realised I couldn't stop. This mission had to continue indefinitely. As long as there are people who need my help, I'll keep going."
Some of the needs Edy encounters are deeply heart-wrenching. He recalls one case involving 11 families crammed into a shack in Pintas. "It wasn't even a house — no walls, no water, no electricity. It was just a makeshift shelter in the middle of an oil palm estate," he says, still shaken by the memory. "Kenapa orang zaman sekarang still tinggal macam ini?" (Why are people still living like this today?) he wondered.
What struck him most was the realisation: "These aren't foreigners. These are our people — suku kaum Dusun," he emphasises.
And then there are the countless other stories — like a village where the only way for children to reach school is via a crumbling hanging bridge. "Memang rosak sudah, tak boleh pakai," (It's completely damaged, unusable) he reveals. "Yet, they risk their lives every single day just to get an education."
Edy pauses, visibly moved. "There are so many stories like this. It's hard to see, but it's harder to ignore," he says. "How can I stop and revert to who I was before?"
Edy firmly believes that every bit helps. Whether it's a bag of rice or just a few ringgit, he's convinced that even the smallest gesture can create a ripple of change. These days, his life revolves almost entirely around helping those in need. Though he runs a small business to support his family, his true focus remains unwavering: to leave a positive impact wherever and whenever it's needed most.
Edy prefers to be called an activist rather than an influencer. "I don't think I fit the idea of an influencer," he admits, adding: "I'd rather be called an activist because my focus is on shedding light on the plight of the poor and doing what I can to help them. For me, that's what truly matters."
His social media accounts are a testament to his mission, constantly updated with stories of giving, donation drives and food aid efforts. The online conversations he engages in centre around helping those in need, rallying support and inspiring others to take action.
The change in his life, Edy humbly attributes to a "miracle". Yet, as he continues to make a difference, he reminds us that no miracle is too small or too big. "The smallest step can create the biggest impact," he insists. In a world that can often feel overwhelming, Edy's journey is a beacon of hope, proving that the power to change lives — and even our own — is always within reach.