I was born in Lambanapu, a small area near the Kambaniru Dam, in 1991. My birth came unexpectedly; my mother was out gathering firewood in preparation for her labor when I arrived early, entering the world on November 21 instead of my December 2 due date. My mother raised my sister and me as a single parent, supporting us entirely through Ikat. She was a remarkably strong woman who poured her passion and soul into her craft, ultimately passing that sacred knowledge down to me. Growing up, I watched her work until Ikat felt as though it ran through my own veins. Today, I do not just make these textiles—I give birth to them.

In 2009, at eighteen, I met my biological father for the very first time. We lost touch immediately after, but ten years later, in 2019, he reappeared to pass down his knowledge of natural dyes. Because indigo is the hardest color to master, he tested me by asking me to create a blue indigo dye first. My very first piece was a blue indigo deer, which I still keep as my masterpiece. It serves as a constant reminder of the moment Ikat called to me, and of the complex bond with my father, who gifted me the knowledge of dyeing. For me, Indigo is not just a color; it is the element that revealed my true identity. Through it, I found my worth, my confidence, and a sense of love from my father.

Living in the deeply patriarchal society of Sumba, a woman’s life decisions are rarely her own; family expectations often dictate her future. My path of cultural dedication was neither easy nor swift, but I found my courage when I met Kahi Ata Ratu, a legendary Jungga artist. Through her traditional music, she boldly fought patriarchy and made her own choices. Inspired by her fierce spirit and the beauty of Sumba culture woven into her songs, I claimed the authority over my own life, daring to make my own decisions.

I feel a profound, ancestral connection to nature. When I am overwhelmed, I sit by the harbor; watching the deep blue water and the vast sky grounds me. Like my ancestors, who deeply respected, loved, and protected the earth, I seek nature's blessing in everything I create. Sadly, this beautiful, harmonious concept is often lost on the younger generation, who forget that nature generously provides everything we need. My hope is to help the women of my community recognize the priceless value of their heritage. The traditions they carry are not merely commercial goods—they represent a sacred harmony with the universe.

This philosophy is the heartbeat of the Kabeli La Kambu Ina Project. More than a weaving initiative, it is a space where culture, tradition, ancestral knowledge, and women connect in perfect harmony. Our mission is to establish a living library and information center in Sumba. We offer visitors, travelers, and foreigners an immersive look into our history and daily life through real-world practices.

Ultimately, my dream is to be a mother to a new generation of women who share this passion. I want to encourage women to fiercely pursue their dreams. The weaving community in Sumba must become a beacon of education—not just selling cloth, but weaving stories, preserving hopes, and protecting the Earth through the natural art they produce.