A Reporter's Vigil: Marking A Decade Since The Disappearance Of MH370
Reflections on the enduring mystery and the relentless search for truth.
Today marks the solemn 10th anniversary of the unexplained disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, a haunting tragedy that has left an indelible mark on aviation history
Over the past decade, it has evolved into one of the most-discussed and enduring mysteries, inspiring documentaries, books, and even a TV show.
In this personal account, I share my perspective as a former rookie journalist who delved into the initial days of MH370's unfolding, navigating through a deluge of clues and false leads and meticulously sifting through the unfolding narrative.
Writing this piece is especially poignant, evoking not just the anguish and trauma of the victims' families, but also a fear that the story of MH370 might one day fade into history, becoming just another blip on the radar in the course of humanity.
On the morning of 8 March 2014, I reported for duty as usual at the New Straits Times, where I had been cutting my teeth as a cadet reporter for a year and a half
The first sign of trouble surfaced when Malaysia Airlines issued a media statement at 7.24am, a full hour after the scheduled arrival time of the flight in Beijing
The statement revealed that communication with the airliner had been lost by Malaysian air traffic control at 1.21am. No distress signal, no hints of turbulent weather, and no technical glitches were reported by the crew or the aircraft's communication systems before it vanished from the radar screens.
Following my editor's instructions, I caught the next available KLIA Express train and headed to Sama-Sama Hotel, located next to Kuala Lumpur International Airport; the Transport Ministry and the Department of Civil Aviation were preparing for a media briefing there. During the train ride, fellow passengers were already discussing the plane's disappearance, glued to their mobile phones and the buzzing speculations on social media, including rumours that the Boeing B777-200 jetliner had crashed off the coast of southern Vietnam.
Upon entering the hotel lobby, a horde of local and foreign journalists had already congregated, cameras and laptops in tow. Hungry for information, we were soon ushered into an auditorium, where we received hourly updates on a multinational search and rescue (SAR) operation initially conducted in the South China Sea. The mood was sombre, but most of us held out hope that a breakthrough would be made in the first few hours, if not days.
Local and foreign journalists eagerly await the first press briefing on MH370's disappearance inside the packed auditorium at Sama Sama Hotel.
Image via Adrian Lai
Numerous sightings of possible debris and offshore oil slicks near Vietnam were reported, but none were related to the ill-fated Flight 370
Then-Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Razak gave a press conference at the hotel later that evening, vowing that the SAR operation would continue for as long as necessary. It was then that the journalists and I realised that we were in it for the long haul.
The hourly briefings continued well into the night, and arrangements were made for me to stay at the hotel to catch some sleep and attend the next round of briefings the following morning. As the hours wore on, many of us grew restless and agitated. As our patience waned, so too did the chances of survival for the 239 souls aboard the doomed flight.
On 9 March, questions arose about why the country's Immigration Department failed to detect two individuals who had assumed the identities of two passengers on Flight MH370. Concerns about a possible link to terrorism were raised, but it was later concluded that they were Iranian men likely attempting to emigrate to Germany.
Tweets from Radio National, an Australian radio station, providing the latest updates on MH370.
Image via Adrian Lai
As the number of journalists swelled, some media outlets could not travel to Malaysia, and I received phone calls from multiple foreign radio stations requesting live updates
It was a request I willingly accepted, knowing I could deliver the facts in whatever way I could.
Another way I thought I could contribute was to post a steady stream of updates on my social media accounts hours before my articles went online or were published in the newspaper. It was a gesture much appreciated by my friends and followers, bombarded with speculations and half-truths, ranging from mechanical failure to pilot suicide.
Still in the same clothes I had worn when I first arrived, my loving partner took it upon herself to bring me a fresh set of clothes and, more importantly, comfort and strength to carry on with my duty to provide verified information, no matter how minutiae it might be. The job was far from done but eventually, I was relieved by my colleagues as I had been reassigned to cover the Kajang by-election; all in all, I did not have a single off day for a month and fell ill in between.
One of the final social media updates by this author, chronicling the events that unfolded during the initial days of the flight's disappearance.
Image via googleapis.com
But as I often say during journalism talks and seminars today, being a journalist is like having a front-row seat to history, and that, in itself, is a very rewarding experience that money cannot buy
To this day, the plane has not been found, although several marine debris found on the coast of Africa and Indian Ocean islands have been confirmed as pieces of Flight 370.
I hope that this mystery will be unravelled in our lifetime to bring some sense of closure to the victims' next-of-kin, who have never given up hope on the hunt for the truth. Goodnight, MH370, may you rest in peace, knowing you shall never be forgotten.
This story is a personal opinion of the writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of SAYS. You too can submit a story as a SAYS reader by emailing us at stories@says.com.
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