As our journey led us into the heart of Semporna town, I was struck by a distressing sight. Little children, aged around 5 or 6, sat and played in the middle of the road on its dividers. This image, among many others, will forever be etched in my memory—a stark reminder of the harsh reality faced by the neglected children left to their own devices. These children are the undocumented and stateless children of Sabah, facing a multitude of challenges and deprived of a safe and nurturing environment for their growth.
Often referred to as the notorious children of the Bajau Laut community, these street children have complex backgrounds. Some are descendants of refugees from the Philippines who sought refuge in Sabah during the civil unrest of the 1970s. Others are undocumented children of migrant workers from Indonesia who came to support the palm and timber industries in Borneo. Their legal statuses are intricate, resulting from a blend of multi-generational refugees and undocumented individuals. For most of them, Malaysia is the only home they have ever known.
Over time, this community has settled in stilt houses along the coast of Semporna, facing extreme poverty and unhygienic living conditions. Beyond Semporna, similar settlements on stilts exist on surrounding islands, constituting the true Bajau Laut community, known as the Sea Gypsies to outsiders. These children, due to the lack of sustenance and opportunities wherever they reside (sometimes on boats), venture onto land in search of better prospects, only to find themselves with nothing to offer in return. Alongside other undocumented and stateless children on land, they resort to aggressive panhandling and even substance abuse, such as glue-sniffing, to stave off hunger. Bereft of the right to formal education, they struggle to grasp the national language and lack basic civic awareness. Regrettably, they are often regarded as a nuisance by the local population.
These children have grown up in survival mode, forced to fight for their most basic needs from a tender age. Their lack of security prevents them from flourishing within socially acceptable settings. Absent proper guidance, they struggle to understand what constitutes socially acceptable behavior, how to maintain personal hygiene, or even how to respect the environment they inhabit. Their survival instinct has led them to believe it is every person for themselves.
On the second day at the Sekolah Atas Air, while distributing sanitary kits including toothbrushes and soap, we were instructed to provide only one kit per family due to the challenge of determining the exact number of families and individuals present. Yet, we witnessed young children persistently requesting kits for themselves. This made me wonder: Did the child truly desire a toothbrush so fervently? Was the concept of sharing (bath products) not practiced within their families? Or was it simply the joy of receiving handouts? Has their conditioning over the years convinced them that handouts are their only lifeline?
It is disheartening to witness that the moment they know they are receiving something, even if there is more than enough to go around, they resort to snatching and hoarding. It does not matter if one child receives five items while others receive none. This behavior is deeply ingrained within them, as they believe that resources are scarce and that they must grab whatever they can in that moment. It is this mentality that Sekolah Atas Air aims to change—to foster an environment where there is enough for everyone, where survival does not solely rely on handouts.
Children should not be perpetually locked in survival mode. They deserve to feel safe in order to learn and unlock their true potential, paving the way for self-discovery. Providing them with opportunities to learn and creating a nurturing environment is a fundamental right that all children deserve.
Whether we choose to acknowledge their presence within our land or not, these children live among us, part of our society and community. They are an integral link in our societal chain, and the strength of the entire chain rests upon its weakest link.
The undocumented children of Semporna need our support, compassion, and collective efforts to break the cycle of survival and provide them with a chance to thrive. It is imperative that we extend a helping hand, offer education, foster a sense of belonging, and create a society that embraces and uplifts all its members. Only then can we ensure a brighter future for these vulnerable children and a more inclusive community for all.
