It was Jan 21, 1944, a dark day in Sabah’s history. A total of 176 Sabahan civilians, Chinese, Indians, Sikhs and indigenous people, were brutally executed en masse by the Imperial Japanese Army. They were shot dead, stabbed to death with bayonets and beheaded. Those who did not die from the stabbings were buried alive in large pits.

Their crime? They staged a brave but doomed rebellion against the Japanese invaders.

Today, Albert Kwok and the Jesselton Revolt are names that are hardly mentioned in the national history syllabus, much to the chagrin of many Sabahans.

The revolt against the Japanese occupation, which lasted for over a period of three months, was a rare moment of open civilian resistance against the brutal military occupation in Malaysian history.

Sometimes known as the Double Tenth Incident, the revolt was also noticeably a multi-ethnic affair, with Sabahans of different races coming together to take up arms against the Japanese.

Despite the gallant bravery shown by the rebels, the military might of the Japanese struck back hard and inflicted brutal punishment on the people of Sabah for their defiance.

Jesselton, now known as Kota Kinabalu, was the administrative capital of British North Borneo when the Imperial Japanese Army invaded on Jan 8, 1942.

As is widely known, the Japanese occupation resulted in untold suffering for the people, which resulted in growing resentment towards the occupiers.

Among those affected was a Chinese doctor named Albert Kwok, who had spent some time in China serving the Kuomintang in the Second Sino-Japanese War.

Shortly after the Japanese occupied Jesselton, Kwok made contact with Filipino resistance groups and was inspired to spearhead a liberation of North Borneo.

With the support of Allied forces, he founded his own resistance group, who came to be called the “Kinabalu Guerillas”.

This group was largely made up of Chinese civilians, but eventually, the indigenous people of Sabah also joined in, having grown wary of the Japanese occupiers’ excesses.

People from all walks of life joined in, with farmers, police officers, bureaucrats and fishermen united by the desire to see the Japanese expelled from Sabah.

While enthusiastic, the group were severely ill-equipped, having only a few firearms and mostly relying on spears, parang and keris, when they launched their revolt on Oct 9, 1943.

Remarkably, they still met some success, freeing Jesselton, Tuaran and Kota Belud, while inflicting several dozen Japanese casualties.

Sabahans of all races contributed to the fight, with the seafaring Bajau and Suluk people providing ships to aid in amphibious attacks on the Japanese.

The Dusun and Murut people also fought ferociously on the frontlines, as did Indians and Sikhs who had previously served as police officers under the British administration.

However, despite their initial success, things were unfortunately not meant to last as the Japanese occupiers took a very dim view of those who dared defy their authority.

With reinforcements arriving from Kuching, Japanese air raids began laying waste to Jesselton and the surrounding areas.

Kwok and his posse were forced to give up their gains and withdraw into the highlands of Menggatal.

Frustrated and furious, the Japanese promptly retaliated by terror-bombing coastal towns and villages, machine-gunning down fleeing civilians as they saw fit.

Villages were put to the torch, with around 3,000 innocent civilians executed, with those of Bajau and Suluk ethnicity being particularly singled out due to their community’s involvement in the revolt.

Kwok would have probably continued the fight for a lot longer, if the Japanese had not issued a message threatening to execute 400 civilians in the Shantung Valley if he didn’t turn himself in.

Not willing to let any more innocents suffer pointless deaths, Kwok agreed, surrendering together with the top members of the Kinabalu Guerrillas.

It should not come as a surprise that the Japanese were in no mood for mercy. On Jan 21, Kwok and 175 individuals, mostly innocent civilians, were executed in Petagas.

According to witness accounts, despite the cold, cruel fate that awaited them as they knelt before a watery ditch, Kwok and his posse showed little fear and did not beg for mercy.

The methods of execution were themselves sadistic, even barbaric, with some people being buried alive while others were bayoneted in the abdomen and disembowelled.

Their horrific fate would quell any remaining Sabahan resistance for the rest of the war.

Even after the revolt had been crushed, the Japanese chose to unleash their brutality on the rest of the Sabahan populace.

The Suluk people, who were mostly coastal islanders, faced the wrath of the occupiers, with males of all ages being senselessly slaughtered in what some call a “systematic massacre”.

Other unfortunate people were subjected to brutal torture by the Kempeitai, the Japanese secret police, whether or not they knew anything at all.

The depravity seemed endless, as exemplified in one horrific incident where Suluk women and children were machine-gunned in a mosque.

The 120 islanders of Dinawan, who had stayed out of the revolt, were reduced to 54 with their entire male population murdered.

On some islands, populations were halved as the Japanese killed any male they could find, and often, homes were burnt, leaving survivors with nothing.

In a few cases, the Japanese took the surviving women and children and abandoned them on barren islands, leading to starvation.

It is estimated that some 3,500 people were killed during this mad rampage of revenge by the occupiers.

After the Japanese defeat, a memorial and burial ground dedicated to the victims were established in Petagas which remain there to this day.

On one of the epitaphs can be found these words: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his country.”

Perhaps, one day, this story of Sabahan courage will be known among all Malaysians as an example of racial unity in the face of adversity.