Statelessness in Sabah: A call to restore human dignity

In the heart of Sabah, where the winding rivers flow and the seas stretch out toward the horizon, there exists an invisible wall—one that divides not only land but lives. 

It separates those who are recognised from those who are not, those who have a place to call home from those who wander in the shadows of a land that refuses to acknowledge them. 

These are the stateless of Sabah, individuals without a nation, existing on the margins of society, their stories often untold, their voices unheard.

Statelessness in Sabah is not just a legal anomaly; it is a human tragedy, an open wound that festers beneath the surface of our community. It is a stain on our collective conscience, a reminder that in our midst are thousands of men, women, and children who live without the basic recognition of their humanity. 

They are like leaves in the wind—drifting, directionless, without the roots that bind
them to the soil of a homeland. 

These individuals are caught in a cruel paradox. They live in a land they cannot legally claim as their own, born in a place that refuses to call them its children. Stateless, they are denied the fundamental rights that others take for granted—the right to education, healthcare, and the opportunity to work without fear. They are excluded from the very society they contribute to, trapped in a cycle of invisibility and neglect.

Addressing the issue of statelessness in Sabah is not just a matter of legal reform; it is a moral imperative. 

It is about recognising the inherent dignity of every human being and acknowledging
that no one should be condemned to live without a sense of belonging. 

Statelessness strips individuals of their identity, their rights, and their hope for the future. 

It is a silent but pervasive form of violence, robbing people of their place in the world.

The time has come for Sabah to tear down the invisible walls that divide us. We must take bold and decisive action to ensure that every person born on our soil is recognised as a member of our community, with the rights and responsibilities that come with that recognition. 

This means not only addressing the legal barriers that perpetuate statelessness but also confronting the prejudices and misconceptions that allow this injustice to persist.

We must see the stateless not as outsiders or burdens, but as potential contributors to the rich tapestry of Sabah’s society. They are part of our shared story, and their inclusion will only strengthen our community. 

By granting them the recognition they deserve, we not only restore their dignity but also reaffirm our own humanity.

The path to resolving statelessness in Sabah will not be easy. It will require the collective will of our leaders, our institutions, and our people. It will require us to confront uncomfortable truths and make difficult decisions. But it is a journey we must undertake if we are to build a future where no one is left behind, where every individual is given the chance to thrive.

Sabah’s strength lies in its diversity, in the multitude of voices and stories that make up our community. By addressing statelessness, we are not only correcting a grave injustice but also enriching our society with the contributions of those who have been marginalised for far too long. 

It is time to bring the stateless out of the shadows and into the light of full recognition and inclusion.

Let us rise to this challenge with courage and compassion. Let us break down the barriers that divide us and build bridges of understanding and solidarity. 

Let us ensure that in the Sabah of tomorrow, there are no stateless souls — only Sabahans, united in their diversity, equal in their rights, and bound together by a shared commitment to justice and humanity.

In the end, addressing statelessness is not just about changing laws; it is about changing lives. 

It is about creating a Sabah where every person is valued, every voice is heard, and every individual has a place to call home. This is the Sabah we must strive to build—a Sabah where no one is invisible, where the winding rivers and seas carry the hopes and dreams of all, and where everyone belongs.

Alfonso Min is principal assistant secretary at the Sabah office of the Human Rights Commission of Malaysia (Suhakam).

The views expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the position of MalaysiaNow.