While I write my article, my first cousin Lisa Hadi and her husband are completing their Hajj in Makkah.

NEXT week, on 27 May, the world’s Muslims will celebrate Hari Raya Haji — Eid al-Adha — the Festival of Sacrifice. Across continents, millions will bow in prayer while pilgrims complete their sacred Hajj in the holy city of Makkah. The occasion honours the profound story of Prophet Ibrahim, whose willingness to sacrifice his beloved son became an enduring symbol of faith, obedience, and God’s mercy. Yet in Sabah, Hari Raya Haji speaks to something more than a sacred history. It also reminds us of a rare and precious inheritance — a society where different races and religions have learned not merely to coexist, but to belong to one another.
Let me simply explain this through the example of my own family. Some of my relatives are Christians, some of them practice Taoism. While I write this article , a few of my cousins are completing their Hajj in Makkah.
For many outsiders, this could sound strange, if not impossible. Not for us, of course. This is Sabah bah!
Sabah was not built upon cultural domination or assimilation. Its history is woven from many strands — Kadazan-Dusun, Murut, Bajau, Chinese, Bruneian Malays, Suluk, Rungus and many others — living not in reluctant coexistence, but in mutual acceptance and shared belonging. This is a land where different rivers meet without losing their identity, yet continue their journey towards the same sea.
In our land below the wind, religions are not just a separate set of beliefs. For a long period, they became parts of family traditions and rituals. It is common to see different religions practiced in one family, with members going to different churches, mosques and other houses of worship.
Christmas, Chinese New Year, Kaamatan and Hari Raya Haji festivals are equally celebrated in families as family events rather than holidays representing various religions. Through my adopted son-in-law, who belongs to Indian ethnicity, my family has learnt to appreciate the beauty of Deepavali festival. Every tradition has its own unique message. And understanding usually comes through the dinner table. Aramaiti!
For outsiders, this is unusual. But for Sabah residents this is a routine life.
As a humble logistician, I am well aware that there is nothing automatic about any complex logistical network. Ports and supply chains are not efficient because all cargo is alike. Quite the opposite – they become efficient precisely because they operate with diversity – various kinds of ships, cargo, flag states, ports of origin and destination.And for this to happen successfully, three things are needed – connectivity, coordination and trust.
This rule applies to society too. Congestion at the port happens not because of insufficient infrastructural facilities. More often it occurs because of loss of coordination and lack of trust. Similarly, breakdown of coordination and loss of trust lead to congestion in society.
Suspicion → Loss of trust → Social congestion → Breakdown of society
Just like a congested port will not remain a centre of economic activity indefinitely, a society suffering from social congestion will not be able to perform at maximum levels. Hence, trust becomes a vital part of social infrastructures.
Hari Raya Haji and Hajj provide a wonderful example of this.
The Hajj pilgrimage is one of the best examples of coordination and spirituality. Millions of people, speaking various languages and coming from different countries gather in Makkah to praise the same God. They all wear simple white robes, not paying attention to material wealth, power and social position. Powerful and powerless become equal to God.
This means that human dignity is beyond the material differences. If millions of people are capable of coordinating their efforts globally in peaceful manner, why should not we manage to live in harmony in our neighbourhood?
Maybe this teaches us the lessons of sacrifice. Sacrifice, by the way, is not limited to rituals only:
- Sometimes sacrifice means letting go of your egotistic attitude.
- Sometimes sacrifice means resisting the temptation to hate, show prejudice or react emotionally.
- Sometimes sacrifice means not letting politics destroy the relations which you build for decades with your neighbours.
In today’s Malaysia, especially in view of identity politics being popularized through social networks, sometimes sacrifice means not allowing the rhetoric to drive the wedge between races and religions.
The logic of logistics gives an interesting explanation here. Single points of failure are those which make the whole logistical chain vulnerable.
For society, the most dangerous point of failure is lack of trust. Prejudices, leading to lack of confidence lead to social congestion. People become afraid to talk to each other and society divides.
Social congestion – the same phenomenon as traffic congestion – disrupts social processes.
Sabah should avoid it as much as possible.
Rhetorical slogans or politicisation of controversial topics will not help. Only human relations will.
Over generations, Sabah has nurtured a culture guided by unwritten understandings—social customs that have often proven more effective than legislation alone.
We attend one another’s weddings. We grieve together when loved ones pass away. We visit one another’s homes, share meals and walk together through life’s joys and sorrows.
Muslim friends visit Christian homes during Christmas. Christian and Chinese families celebrate Hari Raya with their Muslim neighbours. Kaamatan rises above ethnic and religious boundaries, gathering us together in gratitude for the land that sustains us.
This is Sabah’s social wisdom.
My Muslim cousins, who celebrate Hajj, practice a different spirituality. But we share their journey through faith. We care about their health and safety. We do not become indifferent because of differences. We cherish their relations. These are the teachings of Sabah to the rest of the world. Diversity of beliefs and ethnicity is not a sign of social disunity.
Ships leave different ports but enter the same ocean. Similarly, people might practice different forms of faith but they share the same destinies.
During this Hari Raya Haji, let us celebrate not only ritual and tradition, but also the deeper spirit of sacrifice—defending harmony, rejecting division and maintaining the trust that keeps our social infrastructure functioning.
At a time when many societies are strained by fear and suspicion, Sabah still stands as proof that different races and different faiths can share the same humanity. In the end, perhaps the finest logistics are not those that move cargo across oceans, but those that allow compassion to travel across human hearts.
Selamat Hari Raya Haji.
May this celebration deepen our faith and widen our compassion. God willing!
The post The logistics of grace: What a Sabahan family can teach a divided world appeared first on Borneo Post Online.