By Ahmed J Versi
When the first surge of water tore through the villages of North Sumatra, most residents were asleep. Some woke to the sound of rushing mud. Others to the crack of collapsing walls. By dawn, entire neighborhoods had been carried away. Days later, families were still combing through debris, searching for loved ones they feared they might never see again.
Across the Indian Ocean, Sri Lanka was living a parallel nightmare. After Cyclone Ditwah barreled across the island, floodwaters swallowed towns, sparked landslides, and stranded thousands on rooftops. Helicopters skimmed low over submerged villages, dropping food parcels to families waving from makeshift rafts. In both countries, the stories emerging from the flood zones paint a picture of shock, loss, and remarkable resilience.
A region underwater
In Indonesia, the scale of destruction is staggering. Floods and landslides across the provinces of North Sumatra, Aceh, and West Sumatra have killed 442 people, with 402 still missing. More than 1.1 million people have been affected, and nearly 300,000 forced to flee their homes.
For six days, search and rescue teams have been pushing through washed-out roads and shifting earth. Helicopters circle above remote valleys, their visibility raised and lowered by bursts of tropical rain. Trucks loaded with heavy machinery sit idle where the terrain becomes too steep or too unstable to enter.
“Our biggest obstacle is the land itself,” said Lt. Gen. TNI Suharyanto, head of Indonesia’s disaster agency. “These communities are surrounded by mountains, rivers, and now mud. Many places are simply unreachable.”
The Indonesian Agency for Meteorology, Climatology and Geophysics (BMKG) has warned that the rain is not finished. New forecasts point to more storms building offshore—an ominous forecast for rescuers and survivors alike.
Lives upended in an instant
Along Sumatra’s ravaged western coast, survivors describe a night they cannot forget.
“It sounded like a thousand drums,” said Eka Suryani, a mother of three who fled her home moments before a landslide carved through the hillside behind it. “The ground was moving. The air was full of sand. We ran without taking anything.”
Her family now lives in a temporary shelter crowded with dozens of others who escaped with only the clothes they were wearing. Volunteers ladle hot rice porridge into plastic bowls as children watch rain streak down the tarpaulin walls.
Aid workers say the scale of displacement—more than 290,000 people—makes this one of Indonesia’s most challenging humanitarian crises in years.
Sri Lanka’s long week of fear
Sri Lanka’s disaster unfolded with the arrival of Cyclone Ditwah. Driven by powerful winds, the storm brought days of relentless rain, triggering floods and landslides that killed 334 people and left 370 missing. An estimated 1.12 million residents—nearly one in 20 Sri Lankans—have been affected.
In the city of Matara, roads became rivers overnight. Families clung to rooftops as swirling currents carried away cars, livestock, and entire homes. When the Sri Lankan Air Force attempted to reach stranded villagers, one helicopter crashed during a relief mission. Miraculously, the crew survived.
At one of the island’s 1,275 relief centers, a young teacher named Heshan Fernando sat on a plastic chair, holding a soggy folder of school certificates—one of the few items he managed to save.
“Everything else is gone,” he said quietly. “But my students… I hope they are safe. No one has been able to reach our village.”
With conditions worsening, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake declared a state of emergency. Universities and vocational institutes suspended classes until December 8, freeing buildings and personnel for aid operations.
International assistance soon followed: China and Nepal pledged financial support; Australia offered more than $600,000; and India dispatched an 80-member relief team.
When rescue turns to recovery
Both Indonesia and Sri Lanka now face the same urgent questions: how many people are still trapped, and how much more rain will fall?
For rescue teams, the race is against time. For families searching for loved ones, it is against hope itself. But amid the devastation, stories of courage and solidarity emerge—a fisherman rowing his boat from house to house to rescue elderly neighbors; a group of teachers turning a flooded school into a shelter; volunteers standing in waist-deep water to hand out meals.
These floods, brought on by violent weather patterns growing more frequent across the region, have once again exposed the fragile infrastructure and environmental vulnerabilities of island nations confronting climate extremes.
A long road ahead
As the skies continue to darken over Southeast Asia and the Indian Ocean, millions remain displaced, and tens of thousands wait for news—good or bad—from rescuers.
In a relief center in Sri Lanka, an elderly woman summed up the hope that many cling to as they rebuild their lives piece by piece.
“These are only things,” she said, gesturing to the scattered belongings at her feet. “The living matter. The dead we will mourn. But the land will rise again, and so will we.”
[Photo: Aftermath of flash flood which ravaged homes, mosque and severed road access in Batipuh Village, Tanah Datar District, West Sumatera Province, Indonesia, on November 28, 2025. Photojournalist: Adi Prima/AA]
