Published: 28 November 2025 Friday. The English Chronicle Desk. The English Chronicle Online
Mr Chung still hears the last words his wife said to him: “Hang in there.” Those words, spoken in panic as flames engulfed their 31-storey public housing block in Hong Kong’s Tai Po district, have echoed in his mind as the agonising hours have stretched into days. What began as a desperate phone call has turned into a nightmare with no end in sight, as the death toll from the massive fire climbs and hundreds remain unaccounted for.
It was around 15:00 local time on Wednesday when his wife phoned, terrified, to say she couldn’t escape their flat. Thick smoke was filling the building, and she was trapped inside with their cat. Mr Chung rushed home from work, only to find the high-rise transformed into an inferno. Black, suffocating smoke poured out of shattered windows. The fire, which ultimately tore through seven tower blocks, raged for almost 24 hours before firefighters managed to contain it. It is now the deadliest blaze Hong Kong has seen in sixty years.
So far, at least 94 people have been confirmed dead. Nearly 300 more remain missing — including Mr Chung’s wife. He has spent every moment outside the still-smouldering ruins, accompanied by his brother, begging firefighters and officers for updates. But emergency workers, overwhelmed by the scale of destruction, can offer no answers.
Throughout the evening and into the night, he and his wife exchanged frantic calls. The last time she spoke, she said the smoke was growing unbearable. She felt dizzy, faint. And then the line went silent.
“I dare not call her again,” Mr Chung said quietly the next morning, his eyes swollen from crying. “She passed away with our cat, who she loves.” He said the words like a man forcing himself to accept what his heart refuses to believe. His wife, the only one in their family who stayed home that day, is now one of the hundreds of people whose fates remain unknown.
The Chungs had lived in Wang Cheong House for ten years — the first of the seven buildings consumed by the fire. Residents say the smoke spread frighteningly fast. On the 23rd floor, where the couple lived, the corridor became pitch-black in less than ten minutes. His wife, disoriented and choking, could not find her way out.
Authorities say the cause of the fire is still under investigation, but early evidence suggests that ongoing renovation work at the complex may have acted as a deadly accelerant. Scaffolding covered in plastic mesh and wrapped with flammable styrofoam helped the blaze leap rapidly between units and buildings. Police have already arrested three executives from the construction company overseeing the controversial renovation project, accusing them of “gross negligence” and using substandard materials.
Wang Fuk Court, the subsidised housing estate where the disaster occurred, was built in 1983. Eight towers stand on the property, home to around 1,800 flats. According to census data, nearly 40% of the residents are aged 65 or older — a demographic that has made the tragedy exponentially more devastating. Many elderly residents struggled to move quickly enough to escape. Many lived alone. Many never even heard an alarm.
That was a grievance echoed by every resident the BBC spoke to: no alarm sounded as the fire spread. People learned of the danger through phone calls, neighbours shouting, or the sudden rush of smoke pushing through their doors.
For Ms Fung, the nightmare began with a call from her neighbour, who said she and Ms Fung’s mother were hiding inside a toilet to escape the smoke. Then communication stopped, just past midnight. “We will think about our next steps after my mum comes out,” she said on Thursday, forcing hope into her voice even as it trembled.
She said she was enraged when police asked whether it was possible her mother had simply escaped without telling anyone. “How could she? You know how badly burnt the building is,” she demanded, her voice sharp with grief and disbelief.
Social media is now overflowing with desperate posts from families searching for news of missing children, grandparents, spouses and pets. One mother wrote: “I still can’t find my baby girl. It’s nearly 30 hours…” Later, she posted again: “I am afraid there is no hope.”
As more details emerge, scrutiny has turned sharply toward the renovation works at Wang Fuk Court. The project cost HK$330 million, with residents charged HK$160,000 to HK$180,000 per household — costs many opposed. But the construction went ahead despite the objections. Now, with suspicions that non-compliant scaffolding materials and improper plastic coverings helped the flames spread, anger is rising.
Some residents say warning signs were present long before the fire. Grandma Chan, a 72-year-old who lived alone, says she had smelled burning occasionally since the renovations began last year. “Will anything happen if I stay home?” she once asked her daughter, who reassured her. On Wednesday, it was that same daughter — calling from South Korea — who told her to run.
82-year-old Grandma Wu had been playing mahjong with neighbours when her husband phoned to warn her of the fire. There was still no alarm. Initially, the women hesitated; three buildings separated theirs from Wang Cheong House. But a second phone call urged them to flee. They took the lift and made it downstairs just before the fire swept across the estate. Even after she reached safety, Grandma Wu refused to go home with her son. “I have lived here 42 years,” she said. “My heart will only be at peace after the fire is extinguished.”
For younger residents, the disaster is also a financial catastrophe. Kyle Ho, 32, moved in with his retired parents three years ago. Despite subsidised pricing, they required a mortgage to buy their unit. “The worst-case scenario is that we have lost our flat,” he said, “but the most important thing is that all of us are safe. We are luckier than many others.”
The Hong Kong government has announced HK$10,000 in immediate relief for displaced families and a HK$300 million emergency assistance fund. But for most survivors, emotional wounds outweigh financial concerns. Those with missing relatives face a torturous wait, as emergency crews continue to search the unstable ruins of the seven charred towers. Authorities insist rescues remain possible, though hopes are fading.
Mr Chung spends every hour outside, refusing to go home. “I want to rescue her,” he said. “Whether she’s alive or gone.”
For him, and for hundreds of other families gathered around the ruins of Wang Fuk Court, the wait is unbearable — but it is all they have left.




























































































