Raub, a small town in Malaysia, has become impossible to talk about without mentioning durians. The fruit is everywhere — on trucks rolling through the hills, on giant roadside sculptures, and on signs welcoming visitors to the home of the famous Musang King. Once known for gold mining, Raub is now driven by a booming durian economy that has turned the town bright yellow with opportunity.
At the heart of this boom is China’s exploding demand. In 2024, Chinese buyers imported about seven billion dollars’ worth of durians, nearly three times more than just four years earlier. Today, more than 90 percent of the world’s durian exports go to China, making it the most important market for growers across Southeast Asia.
Raub has gained special fame for Musang King durians, a premium variety known for its rich, creamy taste with a slight bitterness. In China, it has been nicknamed the “Hermès of durians” because of its high price and luxury status. While regular durians in the region can sell for less than two dollars, Musang Kings can reach up to one hundred dollars each, depending on quality and season.
Local exporters say the shift has been dramatic. In the 1990s, many farmers cut down durian trees to grow oil palms when the economy was weak. Now the trend has reversed, with oil palms being removed to make room for durian orchards, driven by China’s appetite.
Despite the fruit’s famously strong smell — often compared to cabbage, sulphur or even sewage — durians have become hugely popular in China. They are sold as luxury gifts, shared on social media, and even turned into unusual dishes like durian pizza and hotpot. Chinese consumers are also becoming more sophisticated, looking beyond sweetness for richer, more complex flavours, which has helped Malaysian durians stand out.
Visitors from China regularly travel to Raub to sample the fruit. Many are importers searching for the best quality to ship home. Tour groups also visit farms and shops, tasting durians arranged carefully from mild to intense, ending with the prized Musang King.
One of Raub’s success stories is Lu Yuee Thing, known locally as Uncle Thing. He owns several durian farms and a shop where his harvest is sorted by size and quality. The best fruit, marked as Grade AA, is sent straight to China. Durians have brought him and many others in Raub a new level of prosperity, even though the work remains tough and risky.
China’s demand has also become a powerful diplomatic tool. Beijing has signed durian trade deals with countries across Southeast Asia, from Thailand and Vietnam to Malaysia and newer producers like Cambodia and Laos. New transport routes, such as the China–Laos railway, now move thousands of tonnes of fruit each day into China.
However, this rush has created problems. Food safety scares in Thailand, land disputes in Malaysia, and farmers switching crops in Vietnam have all caused tension. In Raub, authorities recently destroyed thousands of durian trees planted on state land, sparking anger among farmers who say they have worked there for decades.
At the same time, China is working to grow its own durians. On Hainan island, experimental farms are starting to produce small but increasing harvests. While domestic supply still makes up only a tiny share of China’s total consumption, the goal is clear: to reduce dependence on foreign suppliers.
For farmers in Raub, this raises quiet concerns about the future. If China succeeds in growing more of its own durians, demand for imports could fall. For now, though, Malaysian growers remain confident that their fruit, especially the Musang King, is still unmatched.
Yet as China moves closer to what it calls “durian freedom,” the throne of the Musang King looks less secure than ever.