‘I have nothing left’: How a fiery tragedy upended Wang Fuk Court’s way of life
Before the catastrophic fire, Wang Fuk Court was an ordinary Hong Kong estate with a steady, familiar rhythm of daily life.
Resident identified as Fan stayed close to the building through the first night, watching her once-warm home swallowed by the inferno. (Photo: Â鶹/Melody Chan)
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HONG KONG: Wong, a 74-year-old resident who asked to be identified only by his surname, stood in the square with bags of donated supplies in his hands.
“I just came out from yum cha,†he told Â鶹 with a small smile on Friday (Nov 28), using the Cantonese phrase for tea session.
“And now I am rushing off to look after my grandson,†he said, referring to the boy waiting for him in the temporary shelter, as if trying to cling to the rhythms of the life he once knew.
But around him, Wang Fuk Court had already burned for more than 40 hours.
On Nov 26, a fast-moving blaze tore through Wang Fuk Court, killing at least 128 people and shattering the routines that once held this community together.
Before the fire, the enclave of some 4,600 residents was like many others in Hong Kong - elderly neighbours at yum cha, children returning from school, and migrant domestic workers supporting multigenerational households. It was a place of slow mornings, familiar faces and unhurried weekends.
Lian, a 40-year-old Filipino domestic worker, described her weekday ritual. “Around 2:30pm, I go out to pick sai lo,†she said, using the Cantonese term for the young boy she cared for.
And on weekends, she and other domestic workers would gather in the open areas around the estate, chatting, sharing snacks or simply taking a breather from the week.
Now, those steady routines have given way to shock and loss.
“I HAVE NOTHING LEFTâ€
“I have nothing left,†shouts a woman, her voice raw with grief as a social worker gently guides her out of a community hall on Friday.
Moments earlier, she had been inside identifying family members who died in the inferno that gutted a residential estate in the northern district of Tai Po.
As Hong Kong reels from its deadliest blaze in nearly eight decades, the scale of the loss is coming sharply into focus - and with it the stories of ordinary people whose daily routines were overturned in minutes.
Wang Fuk Court was home to 4,643 people, according to 2021 census data. Children under 15 made up just over 9 per cent of residents, while those 65 and above were the largest group, accounting for more than a third of the estate.
The estate is part of the long-running Home Ownership Scheme, which allows eligible lower- and middle-income residents to buy subsidised units at discounted prices. Flats are sold below market value but come with resale restrictions to keep them affordable.
The blaze that started at Wang Fuk Court moved fast, engulfing seven of the complex’s eight towers within minutes. The final flames were only extinguished on Friday, 40 hours on.
Fire services received the first report at 2.52pm on Nov 26, when flames broke out on the lower floors of Wang Cheong House.
Officials later said a burning construction safety net and ignited styrofoam panels drove the fire rapidly up the facade and into the units, making rescue efforts far more difficult.
Explosions could be heard across the estate throughout the first night of the fire. Hong Kong security chief Chris Tang said they were caused by styrofoam catching fire and windows bursting under extreme heat.
Residents told Â鶹 that the styrofoam had been affixed to the outside of some windows as a protective measure during construction works, to prevent the glass from being damaged.
The speed and intensity of the fire left many residents, especially the elderly, suddenly defenceless, trapped inside homes they had lived in for decades.
One man who feared his wife had died in the blaze stood by the cordon for hours, telling reporters he hoped at least “to see her ashesâ€.
Wong, the elderly resident in the shelter with his grandson, said he had been asleep when the fire started. He lived in a 20th-storey unit in the block beside the first tower that caught fire.
“The smoke had not blown over yet. I thought it was something very ordinary and would be put out quickly,†he told Â鶹
Wong, who bought the unit under the Home Ownership Scheme about 40 years ago, as many residents did, waited until his wife rushed upstairs and pulled him out. His grandson was not in the flat at the time.
“Who knew it would spread so fast?†he said.
A resident surnamed Fan, 33, who works in the medical field, was at work when she first saw news of the blaze.
She lives with her father, who was also out of the house when the fire broke out.
“I was halfway through work when I saw the situation and took leave to rush over,†she told Â鶹.
She reached the estate at about 3.30pm on Wednesday. “When I got here, it was already burning,†she said.
Fan spent the night on site, huddling under a blanket she picked up from a nearby community centre as she watched her home burn.
“I watched it burn all the way up to the rooftop the whole night. Then there was a ‘boom’ sound and the rooftop collapsed,†she recounted.
As the hours stretched on, a different fear took hold. Across the estate, families and neighbours began searching for those who had not returned.
Among those still searching for loved ones was a woman in her sixties who wanted to be known only by her surname Yeung.
She has not been able to reach her 41-year-old son since the blaze began, yet she remained composed as she stepped out of the hall where residents were identifying the dead by photographs, finding no trace of him.
Yeung lives in a neighbouring estate, though she once stayed in Wang Fuk Court from 1990 to 1997 before a divorce led her to move away.
“I am only afraid the fire might have reached him while he was sleeping. Otherwise, he is an adult, he should know how to escape. I hope he did,†she told Â鶹.
Another resident who did not want to be named sat alone on a bench in the square, staring at the blackened towers. Volunteers placed water and tissues beside her, but she did not respond. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ruins, as if waiting for an answer that would not come.
Around her, friends held printouts of missing neighbours, a five-year-old child, a domestic helper, hoping someone, anyone, might recognise a face.
Online, the desperation felt no different.
In neighbourhood chat groups, people shared Google Sheets filled with names, flat numbers and last-seen notes.
Residents flooded group chats with pleas for help.
One mother, with the username “Winnie Huiâ€, asked for news of a baby missing for nearly 30 hours: “She is sick and needs milk … can someone tell me if she was rescued?â€
A day later, she confirmed the news she had feared. Firefighters had found a baby with no vital signs in the unit.
Amid the chaos, some residents held on to acts of instinctive courage.
One survivor, who identified himself online as “Lim ALim†and lived on the second floor of Wang Fuk Court, shared his ordeal in a Facebook post on Nov 28 from his hospital bed.
He said he first learned of the fire when his wife called him. The moment he opened his front door, “everything went black†as thick smoke flooded the corridor, and “not even the phone torch†could cut through it.
He shut the door and waited, describing the feeling as being trapped in “a place called home, which had become a hellâ€.
When he later heard faint cries outside, he wrapped a towel in water and stepped into the smoke, crawling along the wall until he reached a couple struggling to breathe.
He managed to pull them back into his flat, giving them water, socks and shoes as they waited for rescue while burning debris fell past the windows “like black snowâ€.
Hours later, firefighters reached their window and evacuated the couple first before returning for him.
Sitting alone in the wreckage, he recalled wanting to take his treasured belongings, “the models I had spent countless sleepless nights painting … the children’s favourite toysâ€, but realising he could take nothing.
He stood quietly instead, “as if saying a final farewell to this homeâ€.
Among the residents affected were many migrant domestic workers.
Johannie Yam, social communication lead at The Mission For Migrant Workers, told media that 201 domestic helpers worked inside Wang Fuk Court, including 119 Indonesians and 82 Filipinos.
Lian, the 40-year-old Filipino helper who had worked with the same family for eight years, said she had stepped out in the afternoon to pick up a child from school. While she was on the train, a friend on the 18th floor alerted her to the fire.
Knowing the grandfather usually napped in the afternoon, she called home immediately.
“Grandpa does not know. I called him immediately. Grandpa said what happened I cannot hear.â€
Fortunately, the old man managed to escape, though he fled with no belongings. She considered returning to retrieve her own things, but police had already sealed the area.
Lian said she could do nothing except watch from the street below. “Just watching the building burn like that and cry and cry and pray that our building will be saved and fire will stop,†she said.
“Some of our residents just cry, also shouting, but they can do nothing, just watch until the building is all burned. Very sad.â€
A CITY COMES TOGETHER
In the wake of the fire and in a moment of immense despair, a different voice and different profile have emerged at Wang Fuk Court.
“Do you need a heat pack?â€, “Do you need hot water?†- These calls have echoed around the fire site as volunteers from across Hong Kong rushed in to offer support.
People arrived to pay tribute, placing flowers at makeshift memorials around the estate. Students, mothers, and ground-up community groups gathered at the square beside the complex, offering whatever they could.
Sara Wong, chairman of the charity group Give N Take, handed out cups of hot instant noodles to residents who looked shaken or lost, including those evacuated from the adjacent block.
Her voice caught as she spoke to Â鶹. She said many affected residents had been crying heavily and that she felt deeply moved because, in her words, “their situation is no different from going bankrupt, perhaps even worseâ€.
She added that the NGO also runs a furniture recycling arm, and they plan to help residents rebuild their homes when the time comes.
Many volunteers arrived on their own initiative, including a large number of students.
“We mainly came to see whether affected residents needed any daily essentials,†said Kinky, an 18-year-old student from the Hong Kong Institute of Technology. “It felt quite upsetting to see so many people suddenly without a home. It was heartbreaking,†she said.
The concourse outside Tai Po Market MTR station turned into an informal transit point for supplies, with piles of donated goods sorted and redistributed by volunteers.
When temperatures fell to fourteen degrees at night, volunteers immediately brought out heat packs, portable chargers and masks to keep people warm and connected as they waited for updates.
Almost every need was anticipated: volunteers even brought sanitary pads, wheelchairs and warm clothing.
With many residents reporting pets trapped inside the estate, animal lovers and pet owners also mobilised. They brought pet food, carriers and cages.
Sugar Lam, 29, an IT administrator, said she came after seeing news that many families had pets inside the building.
“You could feel how helpless many pet owners were,†she said. “It felt painful to watch, there was so much emotion, so I decided to come out and help.â€
“It has been very heartening to see people come to collect pet supplies, because it means their pets are saved, and that’s the thing we hope for most.â€
For survivors who managed to flee with loved ones, gratitude has become a small but steady anchor.
Writing from hospital, “Lim ALim†ended with a quiet resolve that has resonated widely online.
“Though times are tough, our spirit is tougher. Let us heal and rebuild together.â€
