Drawings of Struggle and Hope
Seven drawings by children in Immigration Detention Depots depict the harsh conditions of families torn apart by forceful deportations. Produced in conjunction with activities conducted by Koalisi Buruh Migran Berdaulat (Sovereign Migrant Workers Coalition), who have been providing a safe space for deported children through art and storytelling.
About Koalisi Buruh Migran Berdaulat
This article captures activities conducted by the Koalisi Buruh Migran Berdaulat (Sovereign Migrant Workers Coalition) in Nunukan, North Kalimantan. Since 2020, they have been actively helping victims of mass deportations from Malaysia to Indonesia. Their work includes connecting victims with families who have lost their contacts, providing first aid, ensuring vulnerable groups have safe spaces, and providing a playground for children as we show in this article.
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Stateless children born in Sabah, East Malaysia, to undocumented migrant workers have to endure the pain of mass deportation. Memories of home and family, the trauma of sudden arrests, and detention in immigration depots continue to haunt their memories. They were expelled and deported from Sabah to Indonesia, the homeland of their parents. In this new, foreign place they must call “home,” they rebuild their dreams and hopes that have almost disappeared.
Sinta, 10, was one of the victims of the deportation.
“Where are they taking us, Ma?” Sinta asked her mother on the night they were transported from the Papar Immigration Detention Depot, across Sabah to the Tawau ferry port.
“To Indonesia,” her mother answered. “Why not home? Where’s Father?” Sinta continued her endless questions. Her mother answered in silence, unable to express her reply in words. Born and raised in Sabah, Sinta helped her mother work while also attending school at the Community Learning Center (CLC). However, one night in 2023, a loud knock on their door changed everything. Immigration officers burst in, arresting Sinta and her mother. Her father escaped through the back door, leaving the two behind. Sinta and her mother were detained at the Papar Immigration Detention Depot. During the two months in the depot, Sinta lost her freedom to play and her sense of security. She also only heard news about her father after he’d been deported. Statelessness in Sabah Sabah has been a destination for migration even before Malaysia’s independence in 1963. Driven by the high demand for labor in the logging and palm oil plantation sectors, many migrants from South Sulawesi and Flores sought their fortunes there. Some settled and formed communities, but many stayed without official documents. On 1 August 2002, the Malaysian government enacted the Immigration Act No. 1154/2002, which regulated the mass deportation of undocumented foreign workers, including the destruction of their settlements. This policy resulted in the forced repatriation of nearly 400,000 Indonesian migrant workers, creating a humanitarian crisis in transit areas such as Nunukan. To this day, deportations and expulsions continue, leaving 1.1 million of Sabah’s 3.9 million population stateless as of 2020. Undocumented children face discrimination that deprives them of basic rights, including education and health care. They also have to live in fear that limits their mobility, forcing them into a cycle of poverty and uncertainty. This work presents the stories we heard while meeting children and their parents at four different Immigration Detention Depots (IDDs)—IDDs Papar, Sandakan, Tawau, and Menggatal—where they were detained for an average of two months before being deported from Sabah to Nunukan, Indonesia. All names mentioned are pseudonyms. Since October 2023, we have met more than 160 children who were victims of mass deportation from four different IDDs in the Sabah area. We visited them at Rusunawa in Nunukan, a low-cost apartment building owned by regional administrators, now functioning as a shelter for the displaced deportees. Here, deportees are housed for several days while awaiting the repatriation process to their respective “hometowns”. We documented their stories and provided a safe space to express their feelings through drawing, playing, and telling stories. “It’s nice to be able to draw again,” Sinta says. “There [while detained at IDD] we only used stones to write.” Each image they created expresses a story of loss, trauma, and a glimmer of hope that still persists. Within the limitations of space and time, they tried to speak through the medium they have.
(The Deportee Children Drawing) The Unkept Promise Roki (14), was born and raised in Keningau, Sabah. He was arrested while sleeping at home with his mother, two younger siblings aged 5 and 7 years, and a cousin. His father was working at the nearby town of Tenom at that time of Roki’s arrest. When we first met, Roki was wearing a Barcelona jersey. Enthusiastly, he talked about his hobby of playing football in a field near his house. Together with his friends, he made goalposts out of sandals and scored goals that, he said, “no goalkeeper could reach.”
(Drawing 1: Home) Through his drawings, Roki recalled his beautiful home in Keningau, surrounded by trees, lush flowers, and a backdrop of mountains. He also recalled his time attending school up to third grade at CLC Keningau before stopping to help his mother. The day before the arrest, Roki and his friends had promised to meet and play again at their usual place. However, fate said otherwise. Around 2 a.m., a loud knock on the door woke Roki’s family. His cousin took a peek and saw their house surrounded by immigration officers. As they tried to escape, the creaking floorboards prompted officers to shout, “Do not run!” Cornered, they were taken to IDD Papar. Roki failed to keep his promise to play football the next day. At the detention depot, Roki was separated from his mother and younger sister. He lived with his cousin in Block F, a crowded barrack. The days felt monotonous. Occasionally he played with a ball he made from plastic wrapper. However, he stopped after being reprimanded several times. Roki continued to worry about his sister in the women’s block. “I was afraid she’d get sick from eating the food distributed at Rumah Merah,” he said. ‘Rumah Merah’ or The Red House is the name the inmates call the Immigration Detention Depot in Sabah, referring to their red-walled facility building.
(Drawing 2: Block F, IDD Papar) Separated Homes, Separated Families Dila (6) who was deported from IDD Menggatal, also drew a house. The little girl, who is still often afraid when she sees deportation officers, managed to draw a house with a large tree and two stick figures in the activity we held. “That’s my mother and father,” she said. “My father is still there, in Sabah.” Together with her father and mother, Dila was arrested at night while they were sleeping. Unable to resist, they were taken to IDD Menggatal. Dila and her mother were placed in the same block, while her father was moved to the quarantine block to undergo the trial process. Since then, they have been separated and lost all contact. Her mother finally decided to go to Sulawesi, where their extended family lives. They hoped to start a new life there while waiting for news of Dila’s father’s deportation. Before leaving, her mother asked us to inform her if there was any news about her husband.
(Drawing 3: House, Tree, and Parents) Longing for the School Days
(Drawing 4: School) Nor (9) who was deported from IDD Tawau drew a school building. She said, during her two months in detention, she longed for her school days. “There (in IDD) all we did was eating and sleeping. If we were noisy, our mother would get scolded,” she said. It often happened that if a child was considered difficult, their parents would be punished by officers. In some cases, mothers were even punished by standing on one leg while holding their ears. This forced parents to discipline their children to remain quiet, even when they were crying. Nor’s drawings depict her emotions in bright colors that show the school building she misses. After her deportation, Nor and her family were faced with a difficult decision: to return to a hometown she had never known, or to try to return to Sabah through back alleys. The majority of drawings made by children like Nor reflect places that are familiar to them—home, school, or even the detention depot—all of which are part of their stories of loss and longing.
The Lost Brother
(Drawing 5: Rina's House)
Rina (5) drew a house and stick-humans with smiling faces, adorned with flowers.
When asked, Rina enthusiastically explained, “This is me and my brother. My brother is still there (in Sabah). I miss him so much.”
Rina and her mother were arrested at night while they were asleep in their humble hut within the brick factory area. Without warning, they were taken away by the authorities without having time to contact Rizal, her brother, or other family members.
Almost all arrests were made at night while the family was asleep, shocking the children and leaving them in deep trauma. While being detained at IDD Papar, Rina missed Rizal, her only sibling, very much. Rizal now works as a waiter in a restaurant in Kota Kinabalu. Previously, they had always been together since their father left the family many years ago. Rina hopes that one day they can be reunited. The Life in a Cell
(Drawing 6: Situation in IDD Sandakan) Dastin’s (7) drawing depicts the daily situation he experienced at IDD Sandakan. On his paper he drew rectangular lines to represent the walls that limited their movement, stick figures for the prisoners, and oval circles that indicated the toilet holes. He used red to depict the prison block, while black represented the cement floor where they slept, ate and lived—spending their days with all their limitations. Bold orange crayon scribbles marked the courtyards between prisoner blocks. “Here I usually saw detainees ordered to roll over, pull up grass, or stand up under the scorching sun,” said Dastin. This image is a reflection of how children like Dastin view the environment around them and the negative impact left by detention depots. Witnessing the violence around him left a persisting imprint on his young memory. Becoming an Immigration Detainee The image of the prison depot reappeared in a drawing session with deportee children at IDD Tawau in May 2024. Unlike other children who often use bright colors and draw in large sizes, Doni (10) chose to only use a pen on 27.7 cm x 42 cm paper.
(Drawing 7: IDD Tawau) Doni, his two younger siblings, and his parents were arrested in Tawau while they were sleeping. They were immediately taken to the Tawau IDD. His father was detained for 14 days before being transferred to court and serving a prison sentence. Doni, his younger siblings, and his mother were detained for almost two months before finally being deported. This incident separated Doni from his home and left him with deep trauma. He does not remember many details of the arrest, only remembering crying and following his mother’s instructions. While in the detention block, Doni was unable to do any activities. Although his detention period was short, less than two months, his body was covered in itchy wounds due to scabies. According to him, many other prisoners also experienced similar diseases while they were there. Impact of Detention and Deportation Each year, more than 2,000 deportees arrive in Nunukan sick, injured, or traumatised. Overcrowded detention blocks, poor sanitation, and lack of access to clean water caused a variety of diseases. Children suffered severe itch from lice, but they had to endure the pain in silence. Reporting their illness is not a guarantee for healthcare, instead they might only be scolded or face delays in deportation. Access to healthcare is almost non-existent. Parents must beg for medicine that is often not given. “Even if a child has a fever, parents are only told to bathe the children,” said one mother. Food served in the facility is also of poor quality. Raw rice, rotten side dishes with stinky odour often make children sick. Not only do these deportations deprive children of basic rights such as education and healthcare, they also rob children of their identity and sense of security. They were born and raised in Sabah, but in the eyes of the law they are foreigners and should be driven from their birth place. They are called ‘repatriated,’ when in reality they have lost their true home. The impact is profound, both socially and psychologically. Upon arrival in Indonesia, some of them try to build a new life, while others persist in finding ways to return to Sabah, where their hopes were taken away. The tragedy is a stark reminder of the need for better protection for children who have lost everything.
Voices from Scratches: Hope in the Midst of Loss
(Figure 9: Sticky Notes)
The stories of children in these four IDDs reflect the impact of unjust policies—forced to leave their homelands, facing dire conditions in detention centers, and being deprived of basic rights such as education, health, and a sense of security.
However, despite these limitations, their spirit to dream is still evident, a reminder of how strong hope can be even in difficult situations, as reflected in the activity where they write their names and dreams on sticky notes.
These scribbles are not just about loss, but also fragments of hope. Amidst isolation and trauma, these children are trying to piece together the meaning of home, freedom, and dreams. Despite their wounds, they are not giving up. Some are trying to rebuild their lives in Indonesia, while many still hope to return to Sabah. This is a reminder that every child deserves a bright future, free from imprisonment and limitations. Their scribbles are a voice asking the world to pause and listen. Is there anything readers can do to help? Undocumented communities in Sabah face complex problems, putting the displaced people in a vulnerable position. Many of them lose their families, suffer abuse, and endure stigma. We invite the readers to build solidarity across borders to these communities. We should destigmatize them, and encourage the agendas to fulfill their rights. Further information about the lived experience of undocumented people who fell victim to arrest and displacement can be seen in our site migranberdaulat.org. Reach us through migranberdaulat.org for donation and other kinds of support.
Author:
Alim Mursid
Alim grew up and live on the island of Nunukan, North Kalimantan, Indonesia. Since childhood, he has been aware of Nunukan's position as a transit point for migrant workers and deported children from different parts of Indonesia to Sabah. In fact, his extended family is also part of this migration trend.
Translator:
Gisela Swaragita (she/her)
Starting her career in New Naratif as the inhouse Bahasa Indonesia translator, Gisa now serves as the Content Lead of New Naratif. However, she is known better as a music journalist with byline in various media such as Metal Hammer, NME, The Jakarta Post, and many more. In her spare time she loves trying new food, singing in the shower, and translate subtitles in movies/series for fun.