A bittersweet year – Sabah’s 2025 in reflection

As the year draws to a close and the setting sun once again washes the horizon in familiar shades of gold, Sabah seems to pause as one. Here, at that dramatic meeting point where the South China Sea and the Sulu Sea converge and merge, the view opens into a vast, unbroken ocean — two great bodies of water flowing into each other, indistinguishable at the edges. It is a fitting place for reflection.

The air is heavy — not only with humidity, but with contemplation. In homes, offices, ports, and kampungs alike, there is a quiet reckoning with what the year has demanded of us and what it has left behind. 2025 was not a gentle year. It pressed hard on our institutions and our patience, tested our leadership, and forced difficult conversations we might otherwise have postponed.

It asked of Sabahans not comfort, but character: the maturity to endure setbacks, the restraint to listen amid disagreement, and a stubborn faith that the ground we are striving to secure for our future is worth the uneven climb. Progress did not come easily — but it came honestly, measured not in grand declarations, but in the resolve to keep moving forward even when the path was unclear.

If you had to capture it in a taste, it was distinctly bittersweet that was profound. It was in the frustrations that simmered over old, unresolved questions: of fairness, of resources, of rightful place. It was in the daily grind against the cost of living, in the anxiety of young graduates weighing their options, and in the stark silence of rural roads waiting for promises to materialize. Patience, worn thin by high expectations, often felt like the primary export. Sabah state General Elections came and went, leaving behind a residue of division that strained more than just politics; it sometimes touched family dinners and conversations with old friends.

Yet, beneath this surface noise, the true Sabah never ceased its rhythm. This was the sweet counterpoint. The fishermen still pushed off in the pre-dawn dark. Teachers shaped destinies in classrooms starved of resources

Nurses, clerks, farmers, and small traders did what they have always done: the necessary, unglamorous work of sustaining life. Their resilience is our quiet, indispensable bedrock. It’s a sweetness born not of easy victory, but of dignified continuity.

That demand for integrity was underscored nationally in the closing days of the year. On a sobering Friday, 26th December 2025, the Kuala Lumpur High Court found Najib Razak guilty in his second major trial linked to the 1Malaysia Development Berhad (1MDB) scandal. He was convicted on all 21 counts of money laundering and four counts of abuse of power, involving the illegal transfer of RM2.2 billion into his personal accounts. The ruling was more than the fall of a former leader; it was a moment of national reckoning. It affirmed a principle long demanded by ordinary Malaysians — that power, no matter how exalted, is not immunity. For Sabahans, who have often watched national scandals unfold while local needs went unanswered, the verdict carried a quiet but important message: accountability, though delayed, is not impossible. Justice may move slowly, but when it arrives, it redraws the moral boundaries of public life.

The year thus imparted subtle but enduring lessons in leadership. We learned, once again, that a title grants authority but not trust — and that trust is earned only through tangible action and unwavering sincerity. Sabahans, with a maturity forged by experience, are now asking harder questions not out of cynicism, but as a sign of civic adulthood. We are less impressed by soaring rhetoric and more attentive to the quiet leader in the community — the teacher, the volunteer, the youth organizer – who builds bridges patiently where others dig trenches.

Economically, 2025 was a year of sobering recalibration. Our magnificent potential — in our seas, our land, our culture — remains undeniable. Yet the path from potential to shared prosperity is complex. It requires more than slogans; it demands disciplined planning and real reform. Many felt the pinch as tightening household budgets forced them to make hard choices. Yet, in that struggle, a quiet patriotism shone through the choice of many to stay and build here, believing in a Sabah worth the long-term investment.

We also felt loss — of people, of certainty, of trust. Such loss cuts through illusion, reminding us that what ultimately sustains us is not power or prestige, but compassion, integrity, and the simple, profound act of showing up for one another. In grief and hardship, our communal spirit, that ancient survival tool, reasserted itself beautifully across lines of race and faith.

Perhaps 2025’s greatest gift was clarity. It sharpened our understanding of what we can no longer afford: the crippling costs of complacency, perpetual division, and unaccountable governance. But it also crystallized what we must fiercely protect: our delicate social harmony, the integrity of our institutions, and the promise of opportunity for our children. The year culminated in a confronting truth: our future will not be handed to us; it must be built — intentionally, diligently, and together.

As we stand on the threshold of a new year, empty optimism rings hollow. The more honest, more Sabah posture is resolved. A quiet, collective resolve to argue less destructively, to demand accountability without dehumanizing, to govern more competently, and to remember that our story is bigger than any single term, party, or personality.

2025 was not easy. It revealed where we fractured — but also how, quietly and steadfastly, we held together.

Our journey has never been a straight line. It has been uneven, tested by adversity, and at times clouded by uncertainty. Progress in Sabah has rarely come into dramatic leaps; more often, it has been shaped by quiet endurance, difficult compromises, and the steady refusal to give up. Yet through every detour and delay, the direction has always leaned forward — guided not by perfection, but by resolve.

2025 was a bittersweet year. It exposed our vulnerabilities and strained our patience, but it also reminded us of who we are when circumstances are hardest. This year belongs to us — not as a record of flawless decisions, but as a testament to resilience. And from this soil of mixed experience, a stronger, fairer, and more confident Sabah can grow — if we choose, together, to build it. Sabah Maju Jaya

Happy New Year!