By Majangkim Office
Author’s Note
This article is prepared to provide context and reflection on the late Datuk Bung Moktar Radin’s role in Lamag and Sabah politics. It draws on historical records, public events, and widely shared accounts from those familiar with his work and presence on the ground. The aim is to offer readers a clear narrative of the constituency’s evolution and the impact of a figure who shaped its modern identity.
SANDAKAN: Long before Lamag became a talking point in Sabah’s modern political circles, it was a quiet interior seat carved out in 1967, a place where politics moved at the pace of the river and leaders were known by name, not by title.
Under Datuk Pangiran Galpam Pangiran Indar, Lamag became a proud USNO stronghold — a constituency where loyalty was built through handshakes, shared meals, and long conversations under stilted wooden homes.
In 1976, a redrawing of boundaries erased Lamag from the electoral map.
For more than four decades, the name lived only in memory, folded into Sekong and Kuamut, its identity scattered but never forgotten.
The Return of a Name
When electoral boundaries were reviewed in 2019, Lamag resurfaced — not just as a constituency, but as a symbol. A return to origins. A restoration of something that had been paused, not lost.
And when the seat reopened in 2020, it was claimed by a man whose presence rarely went unnoticed:
Datuk Bung Moktar Radin.
A Man Larger Than the Chamber
Bung Moktar was not the kind of politician who blended into the background. In Parliament, he was known for his boisterous exchanges, his unfiltered remarks, and a style that could swing from fiery to humorous in the span of a minute.
Among the moments that cemented his reputation were his verbal clashes with the late Karpal Singh, one of Malaysia’s most formidable parliamentary debaters.
Their exchanges — sharp, intense, and often replayed — became part of the folklore of Malaysia’s parliamentary theatre.
A Leader People Turned To
Beyond the microphones and headlines, there was another Bung — the one people in Lamag knew personally.
He was the person you called when something went wrong, when a problem felt too big, or when you simply needed someone who would actually act.
His public persona could be loud, but privately he was known for being accessible, direct, and unexpectedly warm.
People remember him showing up at odd hours, answering calls others might ignore, and stepping into situations that had nothing to do with speeches or political theatre.
Whether it was a family emergency, a village dispute, or a stalled community project, he had a way of cutting through bureaucracy with sheer force of will.
To many, he wasn’t just a representative — he was a fixer, a listener, and sometimes the only person who could get things moving.
He won Lamag in 2020, defended it again in 2025, and seemed poised to shape its second life just as he had shaped his own political career.
A Sudden Silence
Only days after securing his second term, Bung Moktar passed away.
The news rippled through Lamag like a sudden storm. For a constituency that had only recently regained its identity, the loss felt personal. The seat was vacant again — not because of boundaries or bureaucracy, but because a familiar voice had gone quiet.
Whispers of Succession
Speculation soon followed. Some wondered whether his son, Naim Kurniawan Moktar, might step forward. Political families are not uncommon in Sabah, and the idea of continuity — especially after a loss — carries emotional weight.
Analysts noted that Bung’s long-standing rapport with the people could translate into sympathy-driven support, though such outcomes depend on party decisions and voter sentiment.
A Careful Distance
Observers also watched the posture of Sabah Chief Minister Datuk Seri Hajiji Noor. Some interpreted his approach as a deliberate choice to stay at a respectful distance from Lamag’s unfolding political transition.
Given the constituency’s deep association with Bung Moktar and UMNO’s internal structure, any external involvement could be seen as sensitive.
Allowing UMNO and local leaders to navigate the next steps appeared, to some analysts, a gesture of political tact.
Closing Tribute
In the end, Bung Moktar’s legacy in Lamag was never just about elections, speeches, or the noise of Parliament. It lived in the quieter places — in the villages where he sat cross‑legged on wooden floors, in the late‑night calls he answered without hesitation, in the problems he took on simply because someone asked.
He was a man who filled a room, yes, but he was also a man who filled a need. People turned to him because he made things move, because he listened, because he cared in ways that didn’t always make the news but always made a difference.
Lamag’s story will continue, as all places do. New names will rise, new chapters will be written, and the constituency will find its path forward. But for those who knew him — whether through politics, friendship, or the simple act of asking for help — there will always be a space shaped by his presence.
A space where his voice once echoed.
A space where his footsteps once landed.
A space where his absence is felt.
And in that space, his memory remains — not as a headline, but as a human being who left a mark on the people who needed him most.
