Korail didn’t just burn—dreams, childhoods, and years of struggle turned to smoke in front of people who had nothing else to lose.
When the fire tore through Korail, families ran with only the clothes on their backs. A mother stood where her home used to be, holding her child and whispering, “Kichu ar nai baba.” A boy searched the ashes for his school books—books that were his only hope of changing his life. People weren’t crying for furniture or walls. They were crying for the little pieces of life they had built with years of sacrifice.
Through @hashiekshathe and @tongfoundation , we went there not to “help” but to sit with them in their pain. To listen. To understand. To stand beside a community that was trying to stay strong even when their hands were shaking. Every person had a story—stories that deserved to be heard more than anything we could give.
What hits the hardest is not the burnt homes—it’s the quiet resilience. A father who lost everything still sharing water with others. Children smiling even while standing on ashes. People comforting each other when their own hearts were breaking. In that moment, you understand: humanity is not found in what we give, but in how deeply we feel someone else’s loss.
Korail’s people are trying to rebuild from zero. They shouldn’t have to do it alone. If their pain touched your heart even a little, let it move you to action. Stand with them. Show up for them. Because sometimes the smallest act of kindness becomes the first brick in someone’s new beginning.
