Illustration by Copilot
By Joseph Ong, 70
Every year, the haze descends upon us like an unwelcome guest. The skies turn grey, the air thickens, and breathing becomes a struggle.
For many, it is an inconvenience. For me, it is a battle for survival.
I am Joseph Ong, 70 years old, and a survivor of COVID-19. In 2020, the virus nearly claimed my life, leaving my lungs scarred and weakened.
Since then, every breath has been precious. Yet, when the haze returns, it feels as though my lungs are under siege all over again. Persistent coughing, breathlessness, and the fear that my fragile lungs may fail me — this is the reality I live with. And I know I am not alone.
The Malaysian Air Pollution Index (API) has crossed dangerous levels, and countless Malaysians are suffering in silence. Senior citizens, children, asthmatics, and those with compromised health are paying the price for a problem that has dragged on for decades.
Let us be clear: this is not an act of nature. Forests are being burned — deliberately — to clear land for plantations. Greed is choking us. The smoke does not respect borders; it drifts across nations, poisoning the air we breathe.
And yet, year after year, we hear the same excuses, the same diplomatic platitudes, while ordinary people like me struggle to draw breath.
I appeal to the authorities: enough talk. Take decisive action. Enforce accountability. Throw the book at those responsible for these fires. Protect the rakyat, because our health and our lives are at stake.
I am angry, yes — but more than that, I am afraid. Afraid that if my lungs fail me this time, I may not survive. Afraid that many more will suffer the same fate.
The haze is not just an environmental issue. It is a human crisis. And it is high time we treated it as such.
Joseph Ong lives in Klang and works as a transporter for school-going kids
WE