Displaced on Their Own Land: Why Telupid and Ranau Residents Are Crying Foul Over the Pan Borneo Highway
Byline: The Borneo Fortress Desk
KOTA KINABALU: Along the winding, fog-shrouded roads connecting Ranau and Telupid, a silent crisis is unfolding.
For years, the people of Sabah’s interior have looked forward to a safer, modern highway. But as heavy machinery rolls in for Phase 1B of the mega Pan Borneo Highway project, the excitement of economic progress is turning into severe community distress.
Community leaders—led by Robbin Banati, chairman of the newly formed Impacted Residents Action Body—have taken to local media to plead for help. Their grievance is simple yet heartbreaking: villagers are watching their family homes demolished by heavy machinery under police enforcement, leaving the elderly, young children, women, and disabled family members with nowhere to go.
How can a multi-billion ringgit federal mega-project leave rural Sabahans homeless on their ancestral soil?
To the average observer, it looks like administrative cruelty. But to understand why this is happening, the public must look beyond the immediate distress and examine the stark, outdated legal framework that dictates how Sabah handles land acquisition.
The Core of the Crisis: Crops Over Shelter
The outcry on the ground stems from two major issues: the legal trap of Cap. 68 and the narrow valuation system.
The Law Values the Tree, Not the Roof Overhead
Many affected villagers along the Ranau–Telupid bypass live on Native Customary Land (NCR) or historical road reserves, where their families have resided for generations without formal, individual land title deeds (Native Titles).
Under Section 15 and 16 of the Sabah Land Ordinance (Cap. 68), the law treats land valuation primarily through an agricultural lens:
The government calculates payout based on economic plants—paying out fixed Department of Agriculture rates for mature durian trees, fruit orchards, or rubber stands.
However, the physical house itself—if built on non-titled land or within historical road reserves—is legally classified as an unapproved structure.
The tragic result? A villager might receive a cash payout for a few dozen fruit trees, but zero real-estate valuation for a family home. At best, non-titled natives receive a minimal, discretionary ex-gratia (goodwill) relocation payment, which falls far short of covering the building materials needed to construct a new modern dwelling.
Acceleration vs. Humanity
Following years of project delays, pressure on contractors to accelerate Phase 1B is at an all-time high.
Because the state is eager to deliver asphalt, demolition notices are moving faster than administrative solutions. Villagers report receiving tight vacation deadlines without temporary shelter options, transitional housing, or allocated alternative land plots. When the deadline passes, heavy machinery moves in.
The Question Sabahans Must Ask
The Pan Borneo Highway is a vital lifeline that Sabah desperately needs. But true development cannot be built on the impoverishment of rural native communities.
When a family is handed a cheque for their fruit trees while watching their home flattened by an excavator, that isn’t fair compensation—it is a policy failure.
Over the coming weeks, The Borneo Fortress will dive deeper into how Sabah’s state cabinet, land administrators, and federal authorities can reform this colonial-era legal gap, ensuring that “progress” brings prosperity to all Sabahans, rather than homelessness to a few.
The Borneo Fortress is dedicated to investigating policy, land rights, and socio-economic governance across East Malaysia.
