East Sabah, One Month Later

About a month after my trip to Kota Kinabalu and Kundasang, I found myself back in Sabah again. This time, the journey took me east, moving through Sandakan, Kunak, Semporna, and ending in Tawau.

Once again, it was a solo trip.

Travelling alone always sharpens the senses. You observe more. You listen more. You feel things without immediately translating them into conversation. East Sabah felt different from the moment I arrived. Slower in rhythm, softer in tone, and somehow more open in human interaction.

The emotional centre of this trip was in Kunak.

I went there to attend the Justice for Zara rally. The atmosphere was heavy with sadness. It was not the kind of gathering driven by noise or rage. It was quieter, steadier, and deeply emotional. You could feel grief in the air, but also something stronger than grief. Solidarity.

People came not to shout at each other, but to stand together. Parents. Youths. Ordinary townsfolk. Many did not know each other personally, yet everyone seemed connected by a shared moral instinct. That bullying is cruelty. That silence enables harm. That a child deserves protection, not fear.

The sadness was palpable. Faces were serious. Some eyes were wet. But beneath that sorrow was a very clear collective stance. People despise bullying. Not in an abstract sense, but viscerally. You could feel how personal it was for many. Perhaps because everyone remembers being vulnerable at some point. Perhaps because everyone understands how words and actions can scar far deeper than they appear.

What struck me most was the restraint. The rally did not feel chaotic or aggressive. It felt dignified. Grief was expressed without violence. Anger was present, but it was directed toward justice, not destruction. It reminded me that public gatherings are not only about demands. Sometimes they are about mourning together. Sometimes they are about drawing a moral line and saying this should never be normal.

Leaving Kunak, the weight of that experience stayed with me.

Semporna offered a different kind of space.

I went island hopping again and visited Bohey Dulang. The climb was tiring, but the view from above was worth every step. The sea stretched endlessly, islands scattered like quiet witnesses, and the wind carried a calm that felt almost medicinal.

Being out on the water has a way of resetting the mind. The contrast with Kunak was stark, but necessary. Grief and beauty coexisted on this trip. One did not cancel out the other. If anything, the stillness of the sea made the sadness easier to carry.

In Sandakan, I visited the Bornean Sun Bear Conservation Centre. Watching the sun bears move, climb, and play was strangely grounding. There is something humbling about seeing quiet conservation work happening steadily, without spectacle. Care, patience, and responsibility expressed through daily routines rather than grand speeches.

Tawau was the final stop.

There, I visited anchovy processing areas and timber-related industries. Seeing these sectors up close added another layer to my understanding of East Sabah. This is a region shaped not only by tourism, but by labour, trade, and long-standing economic activities. These industries are not glamorous, but they sustain livelihoods. They tell stories about how communities survive, adapt, and continue.

What stayed with me throughout this journey was the people.

East Sabah feels different from West Sabah. In my personal view, people are generally more approachable, more relaxed, and less guarded. Conversations feel easier. Smiles come quicker. There is a calmness that does not feel manufactured for visitors, but natural to daily life.

This trip was not dramatic in the usual travel sense. No luxury. No rush. No constant documentation.

But it was emotionally full.

From collective grief in Kunak, to open skies in Semporna, to quiet care in Sandakan, and working lives in Tawau, East Sabah revealed itself slowly and honestly.

I left with tired legs, a full mind, and a deep respect for this side of Sabah.

Some journeys teach you about places.
Others remind you about people.
This one did both.