Owning Land, Leasing Trust: New Land Rules Stir Hope, Doubt, and Debate

Brunei’s bold new land policy promises ownership rights for stateless residents and lease options for foreigners.

But behind the legal wording lies a storm of questions: Who truly qualifies? And is “ownership” simply another word for renting with regulations?

🔍 In this special investigative piece, KopiTalk with MHO explores public sentiment, policy gaps, and real-life cases that challenge the promise - and the limits of reform.

👉 Read more and decide: Is this a step towards fairness, or a lease on uncertainty?

By Malai Hassan Othman 

BANDAR SERI BEGAWAN – Brunei’s landmark Land Code (Amendment) Order 2025 (LCAO 2025), set to take effect on August 1, has been hailed by the government as a bold step toward inclusive property reform.

For the first time, stateless permanent residents (PRs) will be allowed to own a single lot of freehold land for residential use, while foreigners may hold land through lease arrangements of up to 60 years. 

However, public reaction to the reform reveals a far more complex landscape - one of hope, uncertainty, and unease.

The Ministry of Development, under royal command, announced the amendments in mid-July, framing the reform as a clarification of ownership rights and a step toward improved land governance. 

Yet online discussions and social commentary have since become battlegrounds of interpretation. 

For some, the reform marks overdue recognition; for others, it feels like a mischaracterised move that risks deeper misunderstanding. 

"If you don’t consider leasing to be owning, then your title is wrong," commented one user on a popular social thread. 

"Foreigners can only lease, not own. A lease can and will expire."

Indeed, the reform’s use of the term “ownership” is now under scrutiny. 

While Section 3D of LCAO 2025 allows stateless PRs to acquire one lot of freehold land, foreigners (classified as Orang Bukan Rakyat Brunei or OBRB) are restricted to leasehold arrangements. 

Section 3A clarifies that these leaseholds - capped at 30 to 60 years depending on intended use - require formal approval and are not guaranteed in perpetuity. 

"The word 'own' here is emotionally charged," said a retired government legal officer familiar with the previous Land Code. 

"But in legal practice, perpetuity is different from leasehold. The distinction matters."

Still, for many within Brunei’s long-marginalised stateless community, the amendment offers a glimmer of long-awaited hope. 

“Alhamdulillah, the government has woken up. Brunei for Bruneians,” wrote one user. 

Others, however, highlighted persistent financial hurdles. “I can't even afford groceries these days. How am I going to buy land?” asked another commenter. 

Some questioned whether the policy genuinely benefits the stateless or regularises existing land arrangements made under Power of Attorney or Trust Deeds - now required by Section 3B to be declared and converted into leasehold within 12 months.

Sections 3E and 3F sparked even more debate. These provisions require former Bruneian citizens or PRs to sell their freehold land within 10 years of losing their status, or risk automatic conversion to leasehold. 

Section 32A goes further by banning Bruneian citizens from acting as nominees for non-citizens or stateless PRs - rendering such trusts null and void. 

Some supported this as a long-overdue crackdown on proxy ownership and legal grey areas. Others viewed it as yet another instance of Brunei’s policy overcorrection. 

“The government is still under the delusion that investors would come flocking because of this,” wrote one commenter, noting that developers remain hesitant due to perceived legal uncertainty and inconsistent implementation.

Conversations among Yellow IC holders - many of whom were born and raised in Brunei - exposed lingering confusion over the eligibility criteria for kekal land. 

The undefined status of 'Rakyat Jati' often leads to inconsistent land decisions across districts. 

“My IC has ‘AK’ - but I was told I still can’t buy kekal land reserved for Rakyat Jati,” wrote a user. 

This ambiguity has reignited debate over who qualifies as a 'true' indigenous Bruneian, and how that affects access to property.

While some Bruneians believe that the "AK" on their identity card denotes Anak Kandung - a label informally associated with indigenous or Malay lineage - in many cases, "AK" is simply part of the naming convention used by Iban and other Dayak communities, meaning "Anak" (son or daughter of). 

The Land Department, however, does not consider the use of “AK” in one’s name as legal proof of Rakyat Jati status, which further compounds confusion around eligibility for kekal land. 

This illustrates the policy’s lack of transparent criteria, where identity, ethnicity, and access to land often collide.

From a broader policy standpoint, the reform has brought renewed scrutiny of Wawasan 2035 and the role of land reform in national progress. 

Critics argue that structural inefficiencies - outdated systems, weak enforcement, and high legal costs - still hamper equitable access and efficient development. 

"Fix tanah.gov.bn first before you talk about reforms," said a commenter, referencing the persistent issues with Brunei’s digital land registry. 

Concerns about exploitative land practices also surfaced. 

In one recurring tactic, a BND250,000 plot may be lost over a BND20,000 debt due to sale and purchase agreements or trust deeds that heavily favour the lender, leaving landowners with little recourse due to legal cost barriers.

There are also troubling cases involving Temporary Occupation Licenses (TOLs). 

In one case, land initially awarded under a TOL for commercial use was shifted under a company name, without the full awareness of all stakeholders. 

A foreign permanent resident, by their corporate position, then leased the land to a third party without consulting the Bruneian awardee. 

When discovered, the local stakeholder sought legal redress, only to face litigation threats. 

Authorities ultimately revoked the TOL, not because of any wrongdoing by the awardee, but due to procedural breaches committed by one of the partners and the ‘illegal’occupant.

Legal experts reviewing the case described it as a textbook fiduciary breach and warned that such abuses - if unchecked - could be legitimised under vague corporate arrangements.

To its credit, the government has acknowledged the reform’s complexity. 

Officials cited consultations with the Attorney General’s Chambers and the Brunei Law Society before finalising the amendment. 

Yet public confidence hinges on broader engagement - particularly with those affected by legacy disputes and inconsistent enforcement. 

In sum, the Land Code (Amendment) Order 2025 seeks to chart a new course on a well-worn path. 

It grants hope to the stateless, redefines ownership lines, and reasserts national interests. 

But whether it opens doors to meaningful home ownership or merely extends a lease on uncertainty remains to be seen. 

While the reform aims to modernise Brunei’s land policy, it must remain anchored in the spirit of the nation's constitutional foundation - upholding the philosophy of Melayu Islam Beraja (MIB). 

The preservation of Bruneian land for Bruneians is not just a legal matter, but a legacy issue tied to national identity, sovereignty, and collective memory. 

Ensuring clear criteria, robust enforcement, and transparency is key not only to safeguarding land rights, but also public trust.

As one seasoned observer aptly put it:

“In Brunei, laws are often written to perfection. It’s in the execution, the follow-up, and the heart behind the law where real trust is either earned - or eroded.” (MHO/07/2025)