On 30 November 2025, after the fire at Kwong Fuk Estate, our team set up a temporary supply point on the estate platform for the residents caught up in it.
That day the air on the platform still held everything that had not yet lifted — the weight of it, the grief. And at the same time, it held a remarkable amount of kindness.
Disaster has no feeling; people do. We were far from the only ones there. All around us were members of the public who had come of their own accord, from every direction, carrying the same grief and the same urgency. Each took up a position on the platform and quietly got on with it: someone passing over daily necessities, someone handing out dry food, someone bringing warm clothing.
On a platform that should have felt bleak, everyone held their own small corner and, through the quietest and steadiest kind of action, assembled a supply network nobody had organised. Not one of us knew the others. Behind the masks and the exhaustion, every face carried the same heaviness. But in that moment each of those positions became the warmest shelter available after the fire — because all any of us wanted was to tell the people who had lost everything one thing: you are not on your own.
The scars remain, but no one has gone cold.
Our thanks to every member of the public who stood on that platform and put a hand out, and to every resident who found the strength to hold others up in the middle of it. Rebuilding, and recovering from what this has done to people, will take a long time. But as long as we keep looking out for one another, that small light in the rubble will see people through to the other side.