“We might be small, but we sting. Take the famous fable of the rabbit and the tortoise. We are also like the tortoise… We keep moving forward, slowly but surely.”
– Datuk Wetrom Bahanda, Parti Kesejahteraan Demokratik Masyarakat (KDM) Deputy President
I MUST begin my column with a confession: I am still groggy as I write. The final results and swearing-in of Datuk Seri Hajiji Noor as chief minister for a second term at 5 am demanded several glasses of coffee to keep me awake, and with barely two hours of sleep, the fatigue lingers.
Perhaps that bleary‑eyed state mirrors the long, suspenseful night that Sabah delivered; a night of shifting numbers, coalition calculations, and unexpected turns that will be felt far beyond the state.
The 17th Sabah state election was never going to be straightforward and was messy. From the outset, the contest was framed as a test of local parties’ strength against national heavyweights, a referendum on leadership styles, and a preview of coalition dynamics ahead of GE16.

Hajiji’s swearing-in marks a moment of triumph for Gabungan Rakyat Sabah (GRS), yet beneath the ceremonial grandeur lies a fragile arithmetic that will continue to shape the state’s political landscape in the months ahead.
The official results of the polls have confirmed what many anticipated: GRS has emerged as the largest bloc, but not with an outright majority, forcing Hajiji to stitch together a coalition of disparate forces to secure his return. The numbers tell the story of a contest that was both decisive and inconclusive.
GRS secured 29 seats, Warisan followed closely with 25, Barisan Nasional (UMNO, MCA, PBRS) managed six, UPKO took three, STAR held on to two, while a scattering of smaller parties and Independents filled the remainder.
With 73 seats contested, the magic number for a simple majority was 37, and Hajiji fell short. His return to power was made possible by the support of UPKO, a lone assemblyman from Pakatan Harapan, and five independents, giving him a razor-thin majority that is legally sufficient but politically precarious.
The anti-hopping law provides him with a shield against mass defections, a safeguard that was absent in earlier cycles of Sabah politics when defections and sudden realignments were the norm. Yet the law cannot eliminate the possibility of by-elections triggered by resignations or disputes, nor can it erase the reality that his government rests on the goodwill of Independents and minor parties whose loyalties are often transactional.
In this sense, while Hajiji has secured the numbers today, the polls may not truly be over for him and his allies. The spectre of instability lingers, and the possibility of by-elections remains alive.
Perhaps the most striking subplot of this election was the resurgence of Independents. For decades, their presence had faded. In the 1960s and 70s, it was common to see Independents win seats in general and state elections, but in subsequent decades most failed to secure victories, often forfeiting deposits. This time, however, Sabah witnessed a genuine comeback. Independents captured seats that few had anticipated, injecting a fresh dynamic into the state assembly.
This revival raises intriguing questions. Will it ripple outward into GE16 in Malaya, Sabah’s parliamentary contests in two years, or even Sarawak’s state election in 2026? If so, Malaysia could be entering a new chapter of political pluralism, where voters increasingly reward individuals over party machinery. For now, Sabah has reminded us that politics remains open to surprises, and that the electorate is willing to challenge conventional wisdom.
The success of the five Independents also speaks to a broader trend: the electorate’s desire for authenticity. In an era of coalition politics, where party lines blur and alliances shift, Independents can embody a direct connection to constituents.
Sabah’s voters, by elevating them, may be signalling a hunger for representation unmediated by party hierarchies. The echoes of the 1960s and 70s are unmistakable, but the context is new where personalities in a digital age can mobilise support beyond traditional structures.
Looking ahead, the Sabah polls serve as a rehearsal for GE16. Coalition negotiations, voter signals, and the role of Independents will all be magnified on the national stage. Sabah has provided a case study in volatility: alliances can shift overnight, voter preferences can defy expectations, and the margin between victory and defeat can be razor‑thin.
The implications extend to Sarawak, where the next state election looms in 2026. Will Independents find similar pull here? Will local parties continue to assert dominance over national players? These questions will shape not only state politics but also Malaysia’s broader federal balance.
Sabah’s results suggest that the era of predictable outcomes is over; fluidity is the new normal.
If Hajiji’s return is the story of resilience, then the collapse of the DAP is the story of retreat. The party was completely wiped out in Sabah; it contested seven seats and failed to secure a single seat. This crushing defeat is not merely a local setback; it carries national implications that will reverberate across the political map in Malaya.
For years, DAP has positioned itself as the voice of urban voters, particularly in constituencies with significant Chinese representation. In Sabah, however, the party’s message failed to echo, and its machinery proved unable to withstand the tide of local coalitions that framed themselves as more authentic custodians of state interests. Sabahans just want local parties!
The question now is whether this whitewash will foreshadow similar struggles in Malaya during GE16. In Malaya, DAP’s urban strongholds remain intact, but the Sabah verdict signals voter fatigue with its messaging and exposes vulnerabilities in mixed constituencies where Malay-majority voters are decisive.
If the party fails to address broader concerns of inclusivity and local identity, it risks erosion in areas where its dominance has long been taken for granted. The Sabah defeat is a warning shot, reminding DAP that its national strategy must evolve or risk irrelevance in the shifting sands of Malaysian politics.
Looking ahead to Sarawak’s state election next year, the outlook for DAP is equally grim. Sarawak voters have historically been sceptical of Malaya-based parties, preferring local coalitions that speak directly to their aspirations. The Sabah collapse may embolden GPS and other Sarawak-based forces to frame DAP as out of touch with the locals’ realities, further marginalising its prospects.
Unless DAP can reinvent itself with a message that echoes across cultural and geographic divides, it may face the same fate in Sarawak, reinforcing the perception that its influence is confined to select urban enclaves in Malaya.
The wider implications of the Sabah polls extend beyond the fortunes of individual parties. They reveal a broader trend of voters gravitating towards local coalitions rather than national brands, a dynamic that portrays the growing importance of regional identity in Malaysian politics. Sabah has once again demonstrated its role as a bellwether, signalling that the electorate values authenticity and local representation over imported narratives.
For national parties, this is a sobering reminder that Sarawak and Sabah cannot be treated as an appendage to Malayan strategies; it requires its own tailored approach, grounded in the lived realities of its people.
Hajiji’s balancing act will define the next chapter of Sabah politics. He must manage a coalition stitched together from Independents and minor parties while keeping Warisan at bay. His ability to navigate these complexities will determine whether his second term is remembered as a period of stability or as a prelude to further turbulence.
The anti-hopping law may provide him with legal certainty, but political certainty is another matter altogether. The possibility of by-elections, the unpredictability of Independents, and the ever-present undercurrents of Sabah’s political culture mean that his government will remain vulnerable to shocks.
For DAP, the challenge is existential. The party must confront the reality that its brand has failed to make an impact in Sabah and may struggle in Sarawak. Its future in Malaya depends on its ability to broaden its appeal beyond its traditional base, to craft a narrative that speaks to the aspirations of Malay-majority constituencies while retaining the loyalty of its urban supporters.
The Sabah defeat is a wake-up call, a reminder that political fortunes can shift dramatically, and that complacency is a luxury no party can afford.
The Sabah polls also highlight the enduring fluidity of Malaysian politics. Coalitions rise and fall, alliances shift, and voter sentiments evolve in ways that defy easy prediction. Hajiji’s return reflects resilience, but it is also a reminder of fragility. DAP’s collapse is a cautionary tale, but it is also an opportunity for reinvention.
Warisan’s strong showing reveals the vitality of local forces, while the role of Independents reflects the unpredictability of the electorate. Together, these dynamics paint a picture of a political landscape that is vibrant, contested, and ever-changing.
In the end, the Sabah verdict is not just about numbers; it is about narratives. Hajiji’s narrative is one of survival and coalition-building. DAP’s narrative is one of retreat and the urgent need for reinvention. Warisan’s narrative is one of persistence and local authenticity. The electorate’s narrative is one of asserting regional identity and demanding representation that speaks to their realities. These narratives will continue to unfold, shaping the future of Sabah, Sarawak, and the country as a whole.
The swearing-in ceremony may have marked the formal conclusion of the election, but the politics is far from over. Hajiji’s government will face tests of loyalty and stability. DAP will grapple with questions of relevance and strategy.
Datuk Seri Shafie Apdal’s Warisan will position itself as the alternative, waiting for opportunities to exploit vulnerabilities. The electorate will continue to assert its voice, reminding all parties that legitimacy is earned, not inherited.
As Sabah moves forward, the lessons of this election will echo across Malaysia. They remind us that politics is not static, that victories can be fragile, and that defeats can be transformative. They remind us that regional identity matters, that local coalitions can outshine national brands, and that the electorate is both discerning and unpredictable. They remind us that the polls may be over, but the politics is not.
In this sense, Hajiji’s second term is both an ending and a beginning. It is the end of a hard-fought election, but it is the beginning of a new chapter in Sabah’s political journey. It is a chapter that will be defined by coalition management, by the resilience of local forces, by the reinvention of national parties, and by the enduring voice of the electorate. It is a chapter that will shape not only Sabah but also the broader path of Malaysian politics.
The verdict of Sabah is clear: Hajiji returns, DAP retreats, Independents stamp their mark, and the politics still unfolds.
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at rajlira@gmail.com





