NO words can truly capture the agony of watching our lives unravel in the wake of disaster. The devastation is not just physical, it is emotional, mental and personal. Coming to terms with such catastrophe feels almost impossible.
Yet, in Putra Heights, hundreds of families have found themselves thrust into this nightmare, grappling with the same haunting question: “Why me?”
My sibling and his family in Puchong Utama endured a distressing ordeal. My sister-in-law, exhausted from scrubbing away the thick soot and oil, spoke of the sheer physical and emotional toll it took.
The weight of the damage was unbearable and the exhaustion etched on her face spoke volumes. Reading the despair of those affected, my heart ached for those who had to endure such hardship, made even more painful by the timing, right in the midst of the Eid celebrations.
Just days before, as I watched the destruction from an earthquake in Myanmar unfold, toppling homes, crushing buildings and claiming thousands of lives, I felt a momentary sense of relief.
I had often told myself that Malaysia was fortunate to be spared such large-scale disasters, thanks to its geographically alignment. But how quickly reality humbled me. The tragic earthquake in Mount Kinabalu should have reminded me that no place is truly immune. Disaster does not discriminate and neither does grief.
Despite the irreversible nature of such tragedies, how we choose to manage the aftermath defines our path forward. Losing a home to disaster is more than just the destruction of walls and roofs; it is the loss of comfort, security and the memories built within those spaces.
The despair can feel suffocating, making it difficult to see a way ahead. But while grief is unavoidable, healing, though slow, is possible. Grief is not a condition to be cured but a process to be honoured.
The emotions that accompany loss, sadness, anger, confusion and even numbness are valid. It is natural to feel as if part of one’s identity has been stripped away. A home is not just bricks and mortar, it holds the echoes of laughter, the warmth of family gatherings and the sanctuary of quiet moments.
Losing it feels like losing a piece of oneself. Expressing these feelings, whether through journaling, confiding in loved ones or seeking professional support can help ease the weight of despair.
Holding onto grief in silence will only deepen the pain but sharing it can be a step towards healing. One of the most powerful tools in recovery is connection. The aftermath of the disaster can feel isolating, yet countless others are experiencing the same struggles.
Seeking support from those who understand, whether through community groups or informal gatherings, can foster resilience and solidarity.
Neighbours helping one another clean, providing temporary shelter or simply offering a listening ear can be lifelines during difficult times. No one should have to bear the weight of loss alone.
In the face of overwhelming loss, the future can feel like an insurmountable mountain. However, healing does not happen in giant leaps. It begins with small, deliberate steps. Even seemingly minor actions like sorting through salvaged belongings, drafting a list of recovery steps or seeking financial aid can create a sense of stability amid the chaos.
It is easy to feel like a victim when disaster takes everything away. However, individuals can reclaim control by redefining their story. Instead of focusing solely on what has been lost, consider what survived.
Every step forward, no matter how small, is a testament to resilience. Even in the darkest moments, hope can be found in perseverance. Suffering often prompts existential questions: Why did this happen? What now? While no answer can undo the pain, finding meaning can be a path to healing.
Purpose can emerge even from deep loss. It may come through helping a struggling neighbour, volunteering for relief efforts or even redefining personal priorities. Sometimes, the act of giving, no matter how minor can also be a source of renewal. Rebuilding a life after disaster is not just an emotional journey as practical help is often needed too.
Seeking financial assistance, temporary housing or counselling is not a sign of weakness but a necessary step towards recovery. Numerous organisations are offering aid, and leaning on family and friends for support can make an immense difference.
Asking for help can be difficult but it creates opportunities for connection and healing. No one should suffer in silence when support is within reach. It is easy to lose sight of hope when surrounded by destruction but remember, you are not defined by what has happened but by how you respond to it.
Recovery may be slow and healing may feel distant but both are within reach - one step, one day at a time. A survivor once said: “I thought I had lost everything but I found a strength I never knew I had. Even in the ruins, hope can take root.”
If you are struggling, reach out. Support is there – you do not have to endure this alone. Together, communities can rebuild not just homes but lives filled with strength, compassion and resilience.
Dr Bhavani Krishna Iyer holds a doctorate in English literature. Her professional background encompasses teaching, journalism and public relations. She is currently pursuing a second master’s degree in counselling. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
