Unanswered cry for justice and compassion a decade after MH17

Borneo Post

17-05-2025

In the echoing silence left by the shattering explosion that ripped through the skies over eastern Ukraine on July 17, 2014, lies a wound that refuses to heal. What happened was that Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 was shot down. It wasn't just a plane breaking apart; it was the tragic death of 298 innocent people. It was a cruel act that devastated families and made many countries feel deep sadness for a long time.
Now, ten years on, the UN aviation agency, ICAO, has clearly stated Russia is the culprit for the MH17 atrocity. They found Australia and the Netherlands' claims valid, based on Russia violating the rule against using weapons on civilian planes. This decision gives renewed voice to the grief of victims' families, like Wan Yusuf Irfan Wan Amran, son of Captain Wan Amran Wan Hussin, whose powerful words are a passionate call for justice and compassion after such immense loss.
Irfan's words paint a vivid picture of a life irrevocably altered. For a nine-year-old boy, July 17, 2014, became the day his worldnfractured, the day his father, a pillar of laughter, discipline, and quiet strength, was stolen by a senseless act of extermination. His simple yet profound statement, 'Over a decade has passed, yet not a day goes by without thoughts of him,' speaks volumes about the enduring pain that time cannot erase. It is a testament to the indelible mark left by a loved one, a constant reminder of what was so fiercely taken away.
The ICAO's ruling, a long-awaited confirmation of what investigationsnhave painstakingly revealed, has reignited the fervent demand fornjustice. Irfan rightly asserts that MH17 was not just any plane; it was a symbol of national identity, 'our national carrier, carrying ourn people under the Malaysian flag.' The downing was an assault not only on individual lives but on the collective spirit of a nation.
To have an international body pinpoint responsibility should be a pivotal moment, a catalyst for resolute action.
To be responsible, in response, Malaysia must now lead a coalition of nations — the Netherlands, Australia, and others — to escalate accountability through international courts, leveraging the ICAO ruling to demand reparations and sanctions against those implicated.
Simultaneously, diplomatic pressure at the UN, even in the face of veto threats, could amplify global condemnation and moral clarity.
Yet, the disappointment in Irfan's voice is profound as he laments the perceived lack of 'resolve and compassion' from the authority.
Malaysia's emotionally distant and mechanical response to the MH17 tragedy, devoid of basic compassion, distressingly reveals a deeper national unease.
When a commercial aircraft carrying 298 souls was blasted out of the sky in a conflict not of their making, the world looked on in horror.
Families across continents plunged into grief, while nations scrambled to assert moral clarity and demand justice. And yet, amid this storm of anguish and urgency, the official Malaysian reaction appeared curiously muted — more concerned with protocol than with pain, more focused on preserving diplomatic poise than acknowledging raw humannsuffering. What a shame!
This aftermath desperately needed clear empathy, a voice for national grief, and leadership that could mourn while firmly seeking justice.
The lack of this wasn't just a PR mistake; it showed a clear gap between the government and the people's emotions. In such a huge tragedy, silence and coldness felt wrong. Malaysia needed then, and every nation needs — not just good administration, but the courage to feel and show it when the world is watching. It speaks of a profound disconnect between the bureaucratic machinery and the raw, visceral pain of those who have suffered the ultimate loss. To be treated as a 'footnote in a long-forgotten chapter' is an acute indignity, a further wounding of already broken hearts. This demands immediate redress: the establishment of dedicated Family Liaison Units to provide personalized updates and mental health support, coupled with a parliamentary resolution formally acknowledging the families'suffering and affirming the state's duty to protect their dignity. The call for 'significant recognition' and a 'clear path toward justice' is not an unreasonable demand; it is a fundamental expectation of a system meant to protect and support its citizens, one that has, thus far, fallen short.
Following in his father's aviation footsteps, Irfan's experience isnparticularly heartbreaking. The mentorship he was denied, seized away by both the Russian perpetrators and a system in Malaysia he believes failed to protect his father's memory, layers another profound personal tragedy onto this already devastating event.
His father, who 'served Malaysia with pride,' deserves to have his sacrifice acknowledged and honored. To transform this grief into a legacy, Malaysia could establish the 'Captain Wan Amran Aviation Scholarship,' funding aspiring pilots in his name, while integrating MH17's lessons into school curricula to ensure future generations understand the human cost of geopolitical recklessness. The fact that his service and death 'have not been met with the respect and protection they deserve' is a painful truth that demands restoration.
The plea for compensation, framed not merely as a financial obligation but as a 'national duty and a symbol of dignity,' underlines the need for a response that transcends mere legalities. It is about acknowledging the sincere value of the lives lost and offering a tangible symbol of the nation's commitment to its bereaved families.
A state-funded compensation program, including educational grants and healthcare support, must be established, not as charity, but as a moral imperative. Concurrently, Malaysia should spearhead multilateral negotiations to hold Russia financially accountable, mounting reparations as a non-negotiable component of justice. The sentiment that families should not have to 'chase what is rightfully theirs' speaks to a desire for proactive empathy and support, a recognition of their ongoing suffering.
In his heartfelt conclusion, Irfan's words echo with a profound human yearning: 'We do not ask for pity. We ask for justice. We ask for memory. We ask for compassion. We ask to be seen.'
This is not a plea for special treatment but a fundamental request for their suffering to be acknowledged, for the memory of their loved ones to be honored, and for the pursuit of justice to be carried out with genuine compassion.
To answer this call, Malaysia must erect a national MH17 memorial — a sacred space for collective mourning — and designate July 17 as a day of remembrance, ensuring the tragedy remains etched in the nation's consciousness. Leaders must also meet privately with families, offering not just apologies for past bureaucratic failures, but a pledge to center their voices on all future actions.
The ICAO's ruling provides a crucial foundation for moving forward.
Indeed, it is a validation of the truth that families have long known and a step towards holding those responsible accountable. However, the impassioned words of the pilot's son serve as a strong reminder that justice is not merely a legal outcome; it requires a human touch, a demonstration of empathy, and an unwavering commitment to remembering the lives that were so tragically lost.
Malaysia's response must transcend symbolism: by partnering with ICAO to reform conflict-zone flight protocols, it can ensure MH17 catalyzes systemic change, preventing future atrocities. Transparency through ublic progress reports and family inclusion in diplomatic delegations will further bridge the gap between policy and humanity.
The world must not allow MH17 to become a footnote. It must remain a stark reminder of the human cost of conflict and the enduring need for justice and compassion in its wake. Through legal rigor, cultural remembrance, and unrelenting empathy, Malaysia can transform this tragedy into a testament of resilience — one where Wan Yusuf Irfan's cry for justice becomes a chorus answered by a nation that refuses to forget.