Luqman's musings

  The Distinction We Forget In the pursuit of fairness, we too often blur the line between law and justice. They are not the same.

  " கண்ணால் பார்ப்பதும் பொய் , காதால் கேட்பதும் பொய் , தீர விசாரிப்பதே மெய் ." Transliteration: Kannal parpathum poi, kaadhal keipadhum poi; theera visaripadhey mei. Meaning:   Kannal parpathum poi: What you see with your eyes can be false.   Kaadhal keipadhum poi: What you hear with your ears can be false.   Theera visaripadhey mei: Investigating thoroughly (to find the truth) is the only truth.

  I have lodged multiple police reports concerning the alleged fabrication of false evidence and misrepresentation in property transactions. These reports include clear documentary contradictions: deceased persons listed as vendors, Sale & Purchase Agreements that don’t match filed particulars, and discrepancies in ownership records.

  Here is a post on Facebook from this morning, dated 6 May 2026 Are Malaysians civic minded people? What are our worst traits? What is needed to change ourselves to be a truly civilised society? Here are my thoughts: No, Malaysians (including Sabahans) are not as civic-minded as a truly civilised society demands. We have pockets of kindness—helping neighbours during floods or festivals—but when it comes to public issues, collective responsibility, or holding power accountable, too many of us fall short. We treat “civic mindedness” as optional, something for “someone else” to handle.

  Since 2019, I have lodged complaints with the Sabah Advocates Disciplinary Board (SADB). In 2019, I complained about lawyers taking instructions from a bankrupt. In 2023, I complained about misrepresentation by a firm claiming to act for a government body when it was not even on the panel. In 2025, I asked for a waiver of the filing fee to complain about a lawyer who had produced Particulars of Subsale that were fabricated. And in April 2026, I again requested a waiver of the RM100 filing fee because I am a B40 SARA recipient .

  In Sabah, the push for full implementation of the Malaysia Agreement 1963 (MA63) is often framed as a noble struggle for greater autonomy — the right to manage our own affairs, land, immigration, resources, and a fairer share of revenue. Proponents argue we were promised special safeguards when Malaysia was formed, and much of that has been diluted over the decades. But here’s a question many ordinary Sabahans are asking: What is the point of struggling for more autonomy when we struggle with basic service delivery under the autonomy we already have?