Remember the day: Tugu Sampan, or the Kota Kuala Muda Tsunami Memorial, built using 26 replica fishing boats in Kota Kuala Muda, Kedah. — ZHAFARAN NASIB/The Star
GEORGE TOWN: It was my day off from work and I was watching TV at home when I heard the loud blaring of sirens.
I assumed there must have been a road accident, but the sirens didn’t stop.
Ambulances, police cars, and fire engines, one after another, sped past by my apartment in Tanjung Bungah.
I could no longer ignore the commotion. I grabbed my notebook and pen, and called for a photographer to accompany me.
But nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see.
My home was less than a kilometre from Tanjong Tokong, one of Penang’s worst-hit areas from the impact of the Dec 26, 2004 tsunami, which was caused by a 9.2-9.3 magnitude earthquake that struck off the west coast of Aceh in northern Sumatra.
The destruction was shocking, yet surreal.
Initially, I thought it was just some high tide inundating the coastal area.
However, the sea was still churning violently after the waves had flung concrete road barriers into homes like mere toys. Mind you, each of these road barriers weighed at least 50kg.
The streets along the famed Gurney Drive stretch were coated in thick mud. Residents were out and about checking on the damage to their homes.
One fisherman’s sampan landed right at the doorstep of a house in Tanjong Tokong.
At the time, the area now known as Seri Tanjung Pinang was still open sea. With no reclaimed land to break its momentum, the tsunami had surged directly onto the coastline, leaving behind a landscape of chaos and ruin.In all my years as a journalist, I had always maintained a degree of detachment, but this felt different as it had happened right in my neighbourhood.
I began documenting whatever I could. For the next 48 hours, I only took occasional naps. Every minute was spent chasing leads, speaking to survivors, and trying to piece together the scale of the disaster.
The days that followed were a blur of exhaustion and urgency.
For eight days straight and then some, I worked tirelessly, documenting the devastation and its impact on people. And I spoke to those who lost their family members to the tsunami in Balik Pulau and Batu Ferringhi.
Mud, wreckage, and despair surrounded me everywhere I went, but amid the chaos, there were glimmers of hope.
Everyone banded together to help each other, volunteers arrived with supplies, and slowly, a sense of resilience began to emerge.
Looking back now, it’s hard to believe how much has changed.
The Tanjong Tokong coast has since been reclaimed to become Seri Tanjung Pinang and is now a bustling hub of luxury homes and condominiums, complete with a marina shopping mall.
The scars of that day have been paved over, but the memories remain vivid in people’s minds.
The Boxing Day tsunami made me aware about the fragility of life, the fury of nature, and the strength of the human spirit.
Even now, years later, I carry those lessons with me as I was a witness to both the devastation and resilience. It’s an experience I’ll never forget.
