In a few days - on 8 March 2017 - it will be the 3rd anniversary of the disappearance of Flight MH370. Among the 239 passengers on that fateful flight were my daughter-in-law, her mother, sister and aunt. To date, they are still missing. Extensive search in the Indian Ocean over the past two years has not yielded anything by way of the plane or its passengers. Meanwhile, we are as far away from solving the mystery of the plane's disappearance as we had been on the day it disappeared. While questions abound, answers continue to elude us; for how much longer, we wonder.
I can't even begin to describe the emotions that surged through us - my family - that Saturday 8 March 2014 as we sat in the KLIA waiting room accorded to family members awaiting news of the flight. Together with the family members, relatives and friends of the other Malaysian passengers on board the flight, we were a mixed bag of emotions, huddled in our own cluster of support. Anxiety ran high; tear-stained faces underlined hopelessness as the day dragged on to night without word of the plane's whereabouts. Baffled by the uncertainty and lack of official communications, I kept looking towards the blue sky through the wide glass windows for a sign of the plane returning - as if it would suddenly appear in the sky in the same way that it had disappeared from it. Besides, there was little else to do that day but wait for news of our loved ones. I prayed for their safe return, silently and ceaselessly. Little did I expect that henceforth for the next two years and after, I would still be doing the same thing, mostly in the sanctuary of my home and wherever else I happen to be because I have not been able to forget. Coming to three years, it takes very little to remind me that there is this personal tragedy waiting to be solved. And more than anything else, begging for closure.
With its disappearance shrouded in mystery, it became fodder for all manner of sleuths and speculation. Theories as to the possible causes of its disappearance are rife - a fire or catastrophe on board beyond the crew's control, alien abduction, act of terrorism, seizure by a foreign power, act of suicide-murder by the pilot, interception by remote control...the list goes on. While some theories might appear far-fetched, others seemed plausible. But your guess is as good as mine. For a lay person like me, the Government's Official Report issued the following year in March 2015 only compounds the confusion. The figures, the satellite readings, the calculations put forth in the Report are Greek to me. Without a shred of tangible evidence, they are as good as assumptions and presumptions after all. Still, I continue to read whatever bit of news or article relating to the Flight that I chance upon on the Internet, hoping that it will provide me with even a modicum of a clue as to what actually happened to Flight MH370. Sadly, the media has lost interest, and little, if anything at all, is mentioned of it these days.
But what of the people, like me, whose lives are impacted by the flight's disappearance? Of the husband, wife, son, daughter, father, mother, brother, sister etc. left behind in its aftermath? Do we simply accept it as an unfortunate accident and move on with our lives? The passage of time alone does not heal. After three years we might be finally resigned to the loss, accepting it as fate decreed by the Divine, but it is by no means easier. Questions still abound and with the ending of the search, the much-needed closure is as elusive as ever.
