No one is born into this world by their own choice and get to choose who is their parents will be.

Tun M: Adalah wajar untuk memberikan kad pengenalan kepada warga asing di Sabah jika mereka menetap

Tun M: Adalah wajar untuk memberikan kad pengenalan kepada warga asing di Sabah jika mereka menetap
http://www.mstar.com.my/berita/berita-semasa/2015/04/04/projek-ic-sabah-sah/

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Syarat Untuk Warga Asing Layak Taraf Penduduk Tetap - koding-kn.blogspot.com (23 SEPTEMBER 2011)

Source: http://koding-kn.blogspot.com/2011/09/syarat-untuk-warga-asing-layak-taraf.html




Warga asing yang memegang permit masuk atau bertaraf penduduk tetap (PR) tidak layak untuk mendaftar sebagai pengundi di negara ini, kata Ketua Pengarah Imigresen Datuk Alias Ahmad.

Beliau berkata mereka juga tidak secara automatik manjadi warganegara selagi tidak memenuhi peraturan ditetapkan.

"Kerajaan tidak sewenang-wenangnya meluluskan permohonan Permit Masuk atau Taraf Penduduk Tetap (PR) kepada warga asing," katanya dalam satu kenyataan di sini, Khamis.

Kenyataan itu dikeluarkan bagi menafikan laporan laman web Malaysian Chronicle pada 17 Sept lalu yang mendakwa Jabatan Imigresen menawarkan pekerja warga Bangladesh di negara ini untuk diberi status penduduk tetap bagi tujuan berdaftar sebagai pemilih dalam pilihan raya umum ke-13 akan datang.

"Di bawah Akta Imigresen 1963, hanya suami atau isteri warga asing yang berkahwin dengan rakyat Malaysia berserta anak-anak berumur enam tahun dan telah menetap lima tahun di sini secara berterusan bermula tarikh kelulusan pas lawatan (sosial) layak memohon taraf penduduk tetap atau diistilahkan Permit Masuk mengikut Akta Imigresen," katanya.

Alias berkata selain itu, PR turut dibuka kepada dua kategori di mana kategori pertama merangkumi kumpulan pelabur di mana pemohon perlu mempunyai pelaburan dalam bentuk simpanan tetap bernilai lebih US$2 juta (RM6.2 juta) di bank-bank tempatan yang tidak boleh dikeluarkan untuk tempoh lima tahun.

"Pemohon yang mempunyai nilai pelaburan bernilai sekurang-kurangnya RM15 juta dalam bentuk aset harta di negara ini juga boleh dipertimbangkan di bawah syarat yang sama," katanya.

Beliau berkata sementara kategori kedua pula merangkumi kumpulan pakar dan golongan profesional yang dibahagikan kepada dua kumpulan iaitu A1 dan A2, di mana di bawah A1 pemohon perlu memiliki kepakaran teknikal yang mencapai taraf piawaian antarabangsa dan diiktiraf badan khas di peringkat dunia.

Bagi bawah A2, pemohon perlu memiliki kemahiran dalam bidang kritikal yang diperakukan atau telah bekerja dengan mana-mana agensi kerajaan atau swasta di negara ini bagi tempoh melebihi tiga tahun dengan menyandang jawatan yang disahkan Agensi Kawal Selia yang berkaitan di negara ini, katanya.

Alias berkata selari dengan permohonan pelabur, pakar dan profesional asing, suami atau isteri pemohon berserta anak mereka yang berumur di bawah 18 tahun juga layak memohon untuk pertimbangan PR dengan syarat telah menetap sekurang-kurangnya lima tahun secara berterusan di negara ini.

Alias juga berkata anak-anak pemegang PR yang lahir di sini juga boleh memohon, manakala untuk wanita warga asing yang berkahwin dengan rakyat negara ini, permohonan status warganegara boleh dikemukakan menerusi perkara 15(1) Perlembagaan Persekutuan iaitu tertakluk bahawa mereka telah memiliki PR dan menepati syarat tinggal menetap di negara ini sekurang-kurangnya dua tahun secara terus menerus.

Kerajaan juga boleh membatalkan PR yang diberi sekiranya pemegang didapati melanggar mana-mana syarat yang ditetapkan Akta Imigresen, katanya.

Beliau berharap penjelasan ini dapat mengatasi kekeliruan beberapa pihak yang beranggapan PR dan status warganegara di Malaysia boleh diperolehi secara mudah melalui proses yang longgar, sedangkan hakikatnya adalah sebaliknya.



Selain itu, peraturan Imigresen sedia ada juga tidak membenarkan pekerja asing yang memegang Pas Lawatan Kerja Sementara memohon PR di negara ini, katanya.

BERNAMA

Screenshot:

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Statelessness and child rights in Sabah - New Mandala (asiapacific.anu.edu.au)

BY CATHERINE ALLERTON, GUEST CONTRIBUTOR – 5 DECEMBER 2014
POSTED IN: MALAYSIA, SABAH AND SARAWAK

The Malaysian state of Sabah is currently embroiled in a bad-tempered political debate about whether or not the many thousands of stateless children living in the state should be granted birth certificates. For supporters, this measure will enable such children to finally access the education from which they are currently excluded. For opponents – rallying to the call of ‘Sabah for Sabahans’ – this is another ruse by peninsular politicians to enable ‘illegal immigrants’ to become citizens of Sabah, further altering the demographic make-up of a state where perhaps half of the population are ‘foreigners’ and their descendants.

One thing is clear – neither side in this debate are considering what might be important or meaningful to such children in their own lives. As so often when a group of children are the centre of debate, political ideologies are best served by constructing such children as a homogenous, silent category, alternately (in this instance) ‘lost’ and ‘vulnerable’, or ‘criminal’ and ‘illegal’.

I’d like to contrast these stereotypical images of pitiable or threatening ‘stateless children’ with two of the real children I met during ethnographic fieldwork in Kota Kinabalu from 2012-13. This fieldwork was focused not on statelessness per se, but on the multiple exclusions (from school, healthcare, citizenship and spaces in the city) faced by the children and grandchildren of Filipino and Indonesian refugees and migrants. Although the majority of the children I worked with were born in Sabah, they are nevertheless considered ‘foreigners’ in the state and, whatever their ‘legal’ status, are unable to access public education. For many Sabahans, the very existence of these children is unauthorised, since – according to Malaysian immigration regulations – ‘foreign workers’ are not supposed to marry or have families in Malaysia. However, children themselves have a variety of forms and intensities of attachment to both Sabah and their parents’ or grandparents’ country of origin.

Let’s begin with Rohit, an 11 year-old boy, with two older brothers. Rohit’s mother is Bajau and came to Sabah aged 12, having finished elementary school in the Philippines. She has never been back to the Philippines since and works selling vegetables in a market on the outskirts of the city. His father is of Suluk ethnicity, and was born to refugee parents in the small Sabahan city of Sandakan. Rohit’s father works as a welder, and has never been to the Philippines. Rohit, his parents and his brothers are all holders of an IMM13 card, also known as the ‘yellow pass’, an identity document given to refugees and their families. Although this documentation enables them to live and work in Sabah, it requires annual, paid renewal, prohibits them from travelling outside the state, and does not enable them to apply for a bank account, access education or receive subsidised healthcare or other government services.

Rohit himself is a quiet but determined boy; he enjoys playing football and looking after his family’s chickens. He has only recently been able to access education, through an alternative education centre in the city, and has never been to the Philippines. His family don’t send any remittances to the Philippines, and Rohit has no knowledge of or particular interest in the country. He certainly does not see it as his rightful home, to which he should ‘return’. Indeed, like many children I knew, he thought that the war and subsequent violent conflicts in the southern Philippines had turned it into a place ‘full of ghosts’. Rohit’s points of reference and interest – including a web of family connections – are in Sabah. Although he is proud of his mixed Bajau-Suluk heritage, and has knowledge of both languages, claiming this heritage is very different to claiming an association with the Philippines. This is an important point, since many in Sabah directly associate such ethnicities not only with ‘foreignness’ but also with security threats, given a small number of incidents involving armed infiltrators in the state.

The second child I want to introduce is 10 year-old Thomas, the son of Catholic migrants from Adonara, a small island in eastern Indonesia. Although Thomas’ parents were both born in Indonesia, they migrated to Sabah as teenagers, and met in the state. Thomas and his two younger siblings have no birth certificates or other identity documents. Thomas’ mother is currently undocumented, with an expired passport, and was too frightened of both arrest and high medical bills to give birth to her children in hospital. Thomas’ father, who works in agriculture on the edge of the city, does have a valid passport, but the rest of the family endure the restricted mobility of ‘illegality’.

Like Rohit, Thomas has never been to his parents’ home villages. However, he is marked by the enduring concern of his family in Indonesia. When he was a young child, Thomas suffered from ill health. His grandmother in Adonara, who was involved in various transnational healing practices to ensure Thomas’ return to health, put a taboo on Thomas cutting his hair until he has visited her in his ‘origin’ village. Today, Thomas has a very long plait of hair down his back, a bodily reminder of his connections to his kin in Indonesia, who he has yet to meet but who continue to influence his life and to hope for his eventual ‘return’. Meanwhile, in the present day, Thomas is often unable, for fear of document-checking, to visit kin living in the same city, and his parents lack the money to fund any trip to Indonesia in the near future.

Rohit’s and Thomas’ stories demonstrate the range of histories and situations experienced by the children of migrants in Kota Kinabalu, and in Sabah more generally. Although Rohit’s family live in an ongoing legal limbo, and although Rohit himself, his brothers and his parents are effectively stateless, they are nevertheless in many respects considered lucky given that they do have some form of valid identity documents. Meanwhile, although Thomas – given the existence of an Indonesian consulate in the city – could be considered to be at a lesser risk of statelessness, his undocumented status makes it hard for him to move around. These boys have very different connections with their parents’ places of origin. In Rohit’s case, he has virtually no connection with or interest in the Philippines. In Thomas’ case, he has no first-hand knowledge of Indonesia, though his family there remain involved in his life, preventing him cutting his hair, hoping that he will safeguard his health by returning to his parents’ home village.

However, despite the differences between Rohit and Thomas in terms of ethnicity, legal status and potential statelessness, they in fact share much in common. They were both born in Sabah and have only ever known the state as home. They are both denied access to Malaysian public school. They both started education, in alternative learning centres, at a relatively old age. They are both unlikely to ever gain educational qualifications that would be recognised in Malaysia, or to continue to secondary education. Most significantly, they are both fairly likely to work with one another – or with similar peers – in the future. For, whilst many Sabahans have great difficulty in allowing stateless children the right – enshrined in the Convention on the Rights of the Child – to birth certificates, they appear to have little difficulty in allowing apparently ‘unauthorised’ children to work in their factories, construction sites, restaurants and home spaces. Such workplaces become sites of cosmopolitan belonging for ‘foreign’ youth, who become friendly with those from a myriad of ethnic and religious (though never ‘native’ Sabahan) backgrounds.

The children of migrants I know in Kota Kinabalu – many of whom are at risk of statelessness – are not ‘lost’ or ‘criminal’. They may, however, be in a vulnerable position, and from the perspective of Malaysian immigration law, they are often ‘illegal’.  During my fieldwork with these children, I laughed as they made jokes about illegality, about ethnicity, about police checkpoints and about corruption. I also saw a frustration amongst many teenagers as they became aware that, in their perpetual status as ‘foreigners’, they are also doomed to do the jobs (cleaning, construction, factory-work) that ‘foreigners’ do. Children such as Rohit and Thomas have only ever known a life in Sabah. If given the chance, they would embrace the opportunity to attend school with other Sabahan children, and to contribute to a dynamic multicultural society. However, the current level of debate in Sabah – in which these children are continually constructed as a dangerous, foreign element who are undeserving of recognition or even rights – makes that chance seem very unlikely.

Catherine Allerton is an Associate Professor in the Department of Anthropology at the London School of Economics. She is currently writing a book on exclusion and belonging amongst the children of migrants in Sabah. Her research in Sabah was sponsored by the British Economic and Social Research Council [grant number ES/J012262/1].

Source: http://asiapacific.anu.edu.au/newmandala/2014/12/05/statelessness-and-child-rights-in-sabah/

Statelessness and ‘foreignness’ amongst the children of migrants in Sabah - Voice of the Children (voc.org.my)

by Catherine Allerton

Children in an informal ‘school’ in a squatter settlement in Kota Kinabalu. This settlement has since been demolished. (photo by Catherine Allerton)

Children in an informal ‘school’ in a squatter settlement in Kota Kinabalu. This settlement has since been demolished. (photo by Catherine Allerton)
















In some advocacy literature, or online photo exhibitions, stateless children are symbolised by the image of a young, wide-eyed child, looking forlornly into the distance. Such images may also be accompanied by text suggesting that stateless children are ‘lost’ or are ‘lacking an identity’.
I find such images of forlorn hopelessness perplexing since they are such a contrast to my own experiences, acquired whilst researching the lives of children at risk of statelessness in Sabah, East Malaysia. From August 2012 to August 2013 I carried out ethnographic fieldwork in the city of Kota Kinabalu with the children of Indonesian and Filipino migrants.

Ethnography, the primary methodological tool of anthropologists, aims at uncovering, through the sharing of daily experiences, people’s taken-for-granted and everyday understandings. I was interested not only in the problems that children might face, but in their own perspectives on their past, present and possible future.

The children I got to know in KK were, like many children, dynamic and exuberant, intensely interested in Japanese anime films, Korean pop music or Tausug pangalay dances. They had strong family ties, spoke numerous regional languages (in addition to being fluent in Malay) and can scarcely be described as ‘lost’ or ‘lacking an identity’. Indeed, one of my most powerful memories from fieldwork is of Mudin, an eleven year-old boy who, in response to my possibly insensitive question about his ethnic origins, looked fiercely at me and exclaimed, ‘I am a person from here!’
This article is in part a reflection on the difficulties, for a child like Mudin, in being taken seriously as a ‘local’ or ‘person from here’ in Sabah. Although statelessness, as an international issue of concern, tends to be approached primarily in terms of law and policy, we also need to understand the experiences and perspectives of people at risk of statelessness. In particular, in Sabah, we need to take seriously people’s sense of exclusion from the Malaysian nationality to which they feel they belong.

According to the currently accepted definition of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), outlined in the ‘Prato Conclusions’, an individual is considered legally stateless if all states to which he or she has a ‘relevant’ or ‘factual’ link fail to consider the person as a national.
In Sabah, children thought to be at risk of statelessness have factual links with Malaysia (as their country of residence and – in the case of most children I knew – of birth) and with at least one other country (usually Indonesia or the Philippines, from where their parents or grandparents originated).

Therefore, for children born in Sabah but considered ‘foreign’ by the Malaysian authorities, the key question is whether or not they would be considered nationals by Indonesia or the Philippines. For the children of Indonesian parents, this issue is fairly straightforward. Although many children of Indonesian migrants born in Sabah lack documents, there is an Indonesian consulate in Kota Kinabalu which regularly issues birth certificates and passports for the children of its nationals. Accessing Indonesian documents is therefore possible, even if it is more difficult for those living on remote oil palm plantations.

The situation for the children and grandchildren of Filipino nationals is much more complex. The Philippines does not have a consulate in Sabah but in Kuala Lumpur. This is largely because of ongoing political sensitivities surrounding the Philippines’ historical claim to Sabah as a former part of the ‘Sultanate of Sulu’. This ‘claim’ is of course hotly disputed by Sabahans, and its political fallout contributes to anti-Filipino sentiment in the state.

Moreover, it is practically difficult for Filipinos in Sabah to obtain documents from KL, given both the expense of travelling, and the fact that holders of IMM13 cards (given to refugees and their descendants) are unable to leave Sabah to travel to the peninsula. The majority of those who might use the services of mobile registration units (which occasionally visit Sabah) do not know of their existence. Thus, whilst the government of the Philippines is known to be ‘generous’ in granting citizenship to even the undocumented children or grandchildren of refugees and migrants who claim it, in practice most are unable to make such a claim. Such people therefore clearly lack what has been termed an ‘effective nationality’.

During my fieldwork with children and their families, my attention was often drawn to the emotional realities that complicate discussions of citizenship or belonging on the ground. Take 10 year-old Amira, a Suluk girl holding an IMM13 card, whose grandparents came to Sabah as refugees in the 1970s.

Once, during a discussion with her and her friends about the differences between Sabah and the Philippines, Amira told me: ‘I don’t know anything about the Philippines’. She has no family that she knows of left there, has never been there, and explicitly refuses to discuss it as a place with which she should have any connection. As holders of IMM13 cards, Amira and her parents are ‘legal’, in the sense of being allowed to remain in Sabah.  However, they still lack a nationality.

Whether or not the government of the Philippines would recognise them as citizens, and notwithstanding the inability of Amira and her brothers to attend Malaysian government school, the important point in their case is that they do not want to be Filipino citizens, since they feel they belong in Malaysia.

Thus, when the alternative learning centre where Amira studied organised document-processing by the Philippines National Statistics Office, neither Amira nor her brothers were interested in applying for such documents. This implies that for some people, the impulse to escape statelessness is by no means as strong as the desire to ‘hold out’ for a particular, preferred nationality that might be gained in the future.

On the ground, statelessness as a distinctive issue often disappears from view, since it is almost completely entangled with wider issues of ‘illegality’ and ‘foreignness’. Even if one were clearly able to separate ‘stateless children’ from ‘undocumented children’, their practical experience is in fact very similar. This is why, despite their differing ethnicities and family histories, and despite the different degrees of assistance offered by their apparent ‘home’ countries, the children of Indonesians and Filipinos actually share many common experiences.

Children who lack legal documents fear being picked up by the police during one of the regular operations – on buses, in shopping centres or in squatter settlements – aimed at ‘checking’ documents. This is particularly the case for children aged over 12, the age at which young Malaysian citizens are supposed to acquire an identity card. Whatever the complexity of legally establishing an individual as ‘stateless’, in Sabah legal statelessness must be analysed alongside the kind of ‘effective statelessness’ created by undocumented migration. Indeed, given that holders of IMM13 passes are potentially stateless but nevertheless legally documented, it remains to be explored whether, in this specific context, there might be some advantages to being ‘stateless’ over being ‘undocumented’.

During my fieldwork, I observed the limitations that illegality placed on children’s lives, and their occasionally defiant responses. I laughed as children, so different to those conventional images of forlorn or ‘lost’ stateless people, made jokes about ethnicity, about police checkpoints and about corruption. I also saw a frustration amongst some teenagers as they became aware that, in their perpetual status as ‘foreigners’, they are also doomed to do the jobs (cleaning, construction, factory-work) that ‘foreigners’ do.
In Sabah, children such as Mudin and Amira are considered ‘foreign’ and excluded from school, treated as unwanted by wider society until old enough to take up the kinds of menial labour performed by ‘foreigners’. Indeed, it is such children’s perpetual ‘foreignness’, rather than statelessness or illegality per se, that prevent them from accessing education in Malaysian schools. Yet, as I have tried to show here, such children do not necessarily consider themselves as ‘foreigners’, let alone as ‘lacking an identity’.

This is why, in considering statelessness, we must not neglect broader issues of justice and human rights, or the fact that children of migrants may not simply desire ‘documents’, but recognition of their right to be considered ‘people from here’.

Catherine Allerton is an Associate Professor in the Department of Anthropology at the London School of Economics. She is an expert in the anthropology of Southeast Asia, landscape, kinship and childhood, and has previously conducted research amongst the Manggarai people of west Flores, Indonesia. Her current research concerns illegality, work and education amongst the children of migrants in Kota Kinabalu, and is funded by the British Economic and Social Research Council [grant number ES/J012262/1]. Catherine can be contacted at c.l.allerton@lse.ac.uk.

Source: http://voc.org.my/blog/blog/2014/03/17/statelessness-and-foreignness-amongst-the-children-of-migrants-in-sabah/

Amidst Sabah’s 1.9 mil stateless people - FMT (January 8, 2014)

KUALA LUMPUR: With just six days to go to meet their deadline to raise US$10,000 (RM30,000), producers of DiAmbang:

Stateless in Sabah, have made an open appeal to Malaysians to support their bid to release the video.

The video which offers a peek into the stateless situation in Sabah is produced and directed by two Malaysian women – Azliana Aziz, 28 and Vilashini Somiah 29.

The duo are now wanting to release the documentary but need to raise just over US$5,000 (RM15,000) to pay for copyrights on news clippings, music scores and final touch-ups.

Azliana is from Johor while Vilashini is Sabahan. Both are currently pursuing their master degrees in Ohio University in USA.

After years of trudging the corridors of the academia in Malaysia and failing to secure support for their contentious project, they finally found reprieve in the USA.

Together with cinematographer Mathew Filmore, the duo began filming in 2012 and concluded the location shoot last year amidst the Lahad Datu incursion.

Their accidental presence amidst the insurgency gave them a frightening and deeper insight into the lives and state of the stateless.

DiAmbang: Stateless in Sabah is a video documentary that stalks the lives of two families – Ebelyn Salih, a Suluk-Bajau, and Abdul Han, a Bajau sea gypsy.

The video was shot in Lahad Datu, where the bloody Feb 9, 2012 invasion by the Sulu terrorists took place.

Azliana, the producer of the documentary has made an open appeal for support in the video which also offers expert opinions on the situation of the stateless in Sabah.

Also interviewed are Simon Sipaun, chairman of the Association for the Promotion of Human Rights, Borneo Heritage Foundation chairman and politician Jeffrey Kitingan and Wan Sahawaluddin, a senior lecturer in University Malaysia Sabah.

All three offer insights into the history, issues and presence of Sabah’s estimated 1.9 million undocumented immigrants who are primarily from neighbouring Indonesia and southern Philippines.

View the video HERE !

Source: http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2014/01/08/amidst-sabahs-1-9-mil-stateless-people/

Malaysia: Undocumented Children in Sabah Vulnerable to Statelessness - RefugeesInternational.org (June 13, 2007)

Decades of irregular migration to Sabah in eastern Malaysia have resulted in large numbers of undocumented children of migrants from the Philippines and Indonesia who are potentially at risk of statelessness.
Undocumented migrants in Malaysia are targets for arrest and deportation, which in some cases has left their children alone on the street. Children of migrants who are born in Malaysia may be undocumented if they do not possess a birth certificate. In addition, if a child’s parents have been deported and they have no other family ties in Malaysia, it may be difficult for them to trace their heritage back to their parents’ country of origin in order to apply for a passport. If no government recognizes these undocumented children as nationals, then the children are vulnerable to statelessness.

Malaysia is a signatory to the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which states in Article 7 that all children have a right to acquire nationality at birth. However, Malaysia does not grant citizenship by birth, choosing not to adhere to the principle of jus soli. Individuals can only apply for citizenship if one parent is a citizen of Malaysia. Foreign parents can register their children for birth certificates, but the certificates are stamped orang asing (foreigner), reflecting the fact that the parents are not citizens of Malaysia.

Refugees International recently traveled to Sabah and interviewed migrants of Filipino and Indonesian descent. Children with orang asing on their birth certificates, as well as those who do not possess a birth certificate, cannot go to government schools in Sabah. Private school is an option but the cost is prohibitive for most families. There are church and community organizations in Sabah that offer private education at a reduced cost. One such non-governmental organization has worked to educate almost 5,000 undocumented children in eastern Sabah, including those on the oil palm plantations, with the support of local authorities.

The Government of Malaysia has been cracking down on irregular migrants in the country. In Sabah, raids are conducted in housing areas where the migrants live and in markets and public areas where many work. Those arrested are deported back to their country of origin. Many children whose parents have been deported and who do not have any other family or guardian in Sabah end up living and working on the street at a very young age, often in fish markets. A local community worker told RI, “It’s those who have nobody who are there [in the fish markets].”

The exact number of street children in Sabah is unknown, but they are estimated to be in the thousands, mostly of Filipino descent. There is strong local resentment of undocumented migrants in Sabah, and the street children are portrayed as a criminal element by authorities and the media. The children working at the fish markets are wary of outsiders and are under constant threat of raids by police. In 2006, the police arrested about 160 street children who were placed in detention. Those with family contacts were eventually released, but there is no information on the whereabouts of the others.

Zugoh, a 12-year-old boy of Filipino descent, works through the night at a fish market in Kota Kinabalu. He pushes a heavy wooden cart hoping that customers will allow him to transport their purchases to their car. Zugoh earns around 1 MYR, or 30 cents per customer. Zugoh does not have a father. He has a mother, but he does not stay with her. Zugoh told RI that he sleeps somewhere on the street near the fish market. He does not go to school, and he has no identity documents.

Local sources in Sabah told RI that the children living on the street often do not possess identity documents like a birth certificate. There are several reasons for this. In order to obtain a birth certificate in Malaysia, it is necessary to produce a valid passport for each parent and a certificate of marriage, documents which many migrants do not possess. In addition, those who work in rural areas are sometimes not able to travel to the national registration authority to apply for the birth certificate.

Under the UN Convention relating to the Status of Stateless Persons, the term “stateless person” refers to anyone who is not considered a national by any State under the operation of its law. The absence of a birth certificate does not mean that a child is stateless. However, when a child does not have a birth certificate and she has no other way of tracing her family’s country of origin to apply for a passport, then the child may indeed be stateless or at risk of statelessness.

Interviews with migrants suggest that both Indonesia and the Philippines grant citizenship through the nationality of the parents, adhering to the principle of jus sanguinis. Currently, individuals of Indonesian and Filipino descent must travel to their country of origin in order to apply for a passport. However, there is an Indonesian consulate in Sabah which could assist those of Indonesian descent with the processing of identity documents. There is no permanent consular presence for the Philippines, however, due to an unresolved dispute between the governments of Malaysia and the Philippines over the ownership of Sabah.

The existence of undocumented children in Sabah who may be vulnerable to statelessness is a complex and politicized issue. Recognizing the problematic situation, Malaysian non-governmental organizations and the Malaysian Human Rights Commission (SUHAKAM) have conducted fact-finding missions to Sabah. Both the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF) report that their offices are monitoring this issue. While steps are being taken to assist undocumented children in Sabah, many are still in need of increased protection and access to their basic rights, including an identity, a nationality, and education.

Camilla Olson assessed the situation for children vulnerable to statelessness in Sabah in April.

POLICY RECOMMENDATIONS
  • The Government of Malaysia should ensure that all births in Malaysia are registered.
  • The Government of Malaysia should convene discussions on the issue of children vulnerable to statelessness in Sabah to develop a strategic plan of assistance involving all concerned parties: the Governments of Indonesia and the Philippines, UNHCR and UNICEF, Ministers of Parliament, Malaysian NGOs and migrant community leaders.
  • The Government of Malaysia should uphold its commitments under the Convention on the Rights of the Child and allow free primary education to undocumented children.
  • The Government of Malaysia should cease the arrest and detention of undocumented children in Sabah.
  • The Government of the Philippines should ensure that migrants from the Philippines have regular access to representatives of the Philippine Embassy to receive assistance with the processing of identity documents for children of Filipino descent.
  • UNHCR undertake a survey to identify the numbers of children who are stateless or at risk of statelessness and take concrete steps to prevent and reduce statelessness.
  • UNICEF increase advocacy efforts on the protection of undocumented children in Sabah and support local community education programs that are already in place
  • In cooperation with the Government of Malaysia, UNICEF facilitate the registration process to ensure that all children are registered at birth.

Source: http://www.refugeesinternational.org/policy/field-report/malaysia-undocumented-children-sabah-vulnerable-statelessness

Download: Malaysia: Undocumented Children in Sabah Vulnerable to Statelessness (.pdf)