Expert: Treat safety in schools as a public health matter
PETALING JAYA: Fire and flood safety in schools must be recognised as a public health priority, not merely a safety concern, says Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia Faculty of Medicine Assoc Prof Dr Rosnah Ismail.
Dr Rosnah, who is also a public health medicine specialist, said achieving meaningful preparedness requires a whole-of-community approach, starting with the parent-teacher association (PTA).
ALSO READ: Ramping up disaster response
'To institutionalise a safety culture, every PTA meeting should include a dedicated agenda item on school health and safety, ensuring that risk management remains a top priority.
'In emergencies, PTA members must be prepared to act according to the evacuation plan. Their involvement is essential in bridging the immediate response gap, protecting lives and reinforcing community resilience,' she said.
Parent Action Group for Education Malaysia chairman Datin Noor Azimah Abdul Rahim urged policymakers to treat disaster preparedness in schools not as an occasional awareness campaign but as a systemic reform agenda – interwoven with education quality, equity and sustainability.
'Emergency preparedness must be proactive, inclusive and student-centred. Schools are not isolated institutions – they are often the heart of the community.
'By equipping them with the knowledge, tools and resources to withstand and respond to natural hazards, we are protecting not just educational continuity, but lives,' she said.
Since 2002, all schools, said the Education Ministry, must conduct self-assessment ratings on student activity management; school infrastructure safety management; social management; crisis or disaster management; risk management; and school security guard service management to ensure a safe learning environment.
'The self-assessment information will be verified by the State Education Departments and District Education Offices before further action is taken by the relevant authorities,' it said, calling on all principals and headmasters to take proactive measures to prevent fire incidents in schools.
These include measures outlined in Circular No. 7/2000: Fire Prevention in Schools such as conducting fire drills, organising fire extinguisher demonstrations and preparing fire safety plans.
Noting that one of the known causes of school fires is short circuits caused by ageing electrical wiring, the ministry said schools are required to report building conditions, including electrical wiring, in the School Safety Rating System.
'If there are issues related to wiring, the Public Works Department will be consulted before further action is taken.'
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Borneo Post
an hour ago
- Borneo Post
A UKM story of friendship: Murphy's Law in Bangi-Kajang
Let me take you back to the late 1980s, when the world still hummed to the sound of cassette tapes, when Bangi was better known for its lush foliage than Wi-Fi, and Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia (UKM) stood like an intellectual oasis in the middle of a green nowhere. It was a time when friendships were forged over soggy cafeteria nasi lemak and midnight motorbike rides; when academic rigour danced with youthful mischief. We weren't just studying – we were discovering ourselves, each other, and occasionally, how many people you could fit into a rickety Volkswagen Beetle without violating the laws of physics or campus security. Those years were more than coursework and caffeine. They were full of texture and trial, of laughter that echoed down the Kamsis (hostel) corridors and serendipities that bloomed like hibiscus after rain. Bangi then wasn't the neatly paved township it is today. It was still raw, still tangled in its own wildness – half university town, half jungle hideout. The campus, tucked into the embrace of jungle, felt like it had been gently dropped there by accident – nature's finishing school for dreamers. There was something sacred in its isolation, a serenity that buffered us from the real world's sharp edges. It was as though time moved differently within those green confines. You studied hard, lived harder and somehow always had just enough accumulated coins left over for a bowl of Maggi mee. And while we had our books and brains, it was our band of brothers – our dorm mates, lecture buddies and motorcycle comrades – that really carried us through. Through lectures and life, through exam week meltdowns and mosquito-infested nights, through everything that Murphy's Law could hurl our way. Bangi-Kajang Memorable Escapades Ah, Kajang Hospital. If you studied at UKM in the 1980s, chances are you knew it – not from a brochure, but from a hurried, half-panicked, all-too-familiar ride through the jungle corridor that connected sleepy Bangi to that bustling little town where satay reigned and emergencies got patched. The road to Kajang was no ordinary thoroughfare. It twisted and turned like a soap opera plotline – narrow, dimly lit, and flanked by dense vegetation. It felt less like a road and more like a secret passage through time. A journey from the academic seclusion of Bangi into the unpredictable theatre of real life. And every so often, breaking the eerie silence, a red Kajang bus would thunder past – rattling, coughing, and somehow still moving – its presence a reminder that civilisation hadn't entirely forgotten us. Kajang Hospital was the final destination when things went pear-shaped – when twisted ankles turned into torn ligaments, when midnight fevers soared into dawn deliriums, when fate decided it was time for a little plot development. It wasn't glamorous. It didn't have gleaming hallways or five-star air-conditioning. But it had doctors who knew their trade, nurses with nerves of steel, and just enough antiseptic smell to remind you that you were still alive and in need of help. And that's where a few of my most memorable student escapades took shape. In those pre-GPS, pre-mobile-phone, pre-common-sense days, everything was possible – and often, hilariously unavoidable. But more than the dramas themselves, what I remember most is the spirit that bound us. That unspoken pact between friends, where 'Are you okay?' was always followed by 'Let's go,' and no one got left behind. In that time and place, camaraderie was currency. Whether we were rushing a friend in need to the hospital, we did it together. Sometimes with a prayer. Often with a laugh. Always with heart. Looking back now, the challenges seem small. But in those moments, they were epic – the stuff of campus lore, whispered between hostel blocks and retold with increasing exaggeration (and joy) over teh tarik sessions for years to come. It was a simpler time – before smartphones, Google Maps or Grab rides. A time when you learned to improvise, to hustle, to trust your guts. And yet, amid all the chaos and confusion, there was a strange and beautiful order: friendships deepened, spirits toughened and memories took root. They were initiation rites into adulthood. Bangi-Kajang Escapade No. 1: Murphy's Law and the Midnight Appendix That age-old rule: 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong' decided to throw not just a spanner into the works, but the whole toolbox. It wasn't a slow unravelling. No, this was a triple play of chaos, the kind that would make even the most seasoned sitcom writers nod in admiration. Three strikes. One night. All of us starring in a medical drama we never auditioned for. Strike One: The Sabahan Tank That Trembled It began with Mr T. (Not to be confused with the mohawked one from American TV fame.) Our Mr T was a Sabahan Botany student, a proud denizen of Kamsis F, and the backbone of our merry band called the VC group. What VC stood for, only its members know. Mr T was built like an oil palm trunk, cheerfully indestructible, and always seen hauling his rugged barait (ie traditional Sabah basket bag) like a jungle commando on a mission. Illness, we thought, wouldn't dare touch him. Until, of course, it did. That evening, he was curled up like a kampung cat on a rainy day, clutching his belly and groaning in a language that needed no translation. His face, usually framed by laughter, was now a mask of agony. Cue the emergency council. We huddled like generals around a war map, plotting Operation: Save the Sabahan. UKM's clinic was closed, the hostel warden was missing in action, and Mr T was in no state to straddle a motorbike. Andrew Scully's 'drama-queen' red VW Beetle, circa the late 1980s, famously ferried Mr. T to safety in an unforgettable motorcade rescue. Andrew, a former Malaysian athlete with legs we likened to a racehorse's, proved that heroes sometimes ride (or drive) in quirky style! Enter Andrew Scully, our resident Irish-Malaysian hybrid and the proud owner of a red Volkswagen Beetle – charming, temperamental, and about as reliable as a coin toss in a thunderstorm. We hoisted Mr T into the Beetle like he was royalty on a stretcher. The plan? Dash to Kajang Hospital. Murphy's Law perked up. As soon as we hit the ignition – bam. Total blackout. The Beetle decided it was going full blackout ops: no headlights, no taillights, no warning. Was it an electrical protest? An allergic reaction to responsibility? We'll never know. But giving up wasn't an option. With Andrew behind the wheel, we improvised a VIP convoy, Malaysian-style. Two motorbikes in front, flashlights ablaze like fireflies on Red Bull, and one bike guarding the rear. Off we went, slicing through the shadowy Bangi-Kajang wilderness like a makeshift ambulance escort. It was half heroic, half hysterical – a cross between a Boy Scout exercise and a Fast & Furious spin – off. Our fuel? Sheer determination, dorm-brewed adrenaline, and the unspoken vow of brotherhood. Strike Two: A Dinner Break Too Far We arrived at Kajang Hospital, panting, proud and prematurely relieved. But Murphy was only just warming up. The doctor on call? Missing. Rumour had it she'd gone for dinner. Perhaps to ponder life or to solve world peace over satay. Whatever it was, she took her time. And we? We waited. And waited. And waited some more. Mr T was no longer groaning. He was practically yowling, a crescendo of pain echoing down sterile hallways. Finally, the doctor arrived with the calm of a woman who'd just finished dessert. One firm press on Mr T's lower right abdomen, and she announced with divine finality: 'Appendicitis-lah itu!' No scans. No fuss. Just good old Malaysian clinical instinct and Mr T's resulting scream, which could've shattered a glass panel. Strike Three: No Knife, Just Night Shift By now, we had imagined Mr T whisked into surgery and Murphy finally taking a break. But no. Kajang Hospital, in all its functional glory, dropped the final twist: 'We don't do appendicitis surgery here. Must transfer to KL General.' Plot twist of the year. Our jaws hit the linoleum. A gleaming white ambulance appeared like an ironic punchline, and Mr T was wheeled away once more. Most of our exhausted squad returned to campus – lectures loomed like clouds. But two of us rode shotgun in the ambulance, determined to finish what we started. KL General Hospital was everything Kajang was not – bright, busy, buzzing with city urgency. Mr T was rushed into surgery. 'Another hour and it would've burst,' said the doctor, nodding gravely. We shivered, more from relief than the air-conditioning. We eventually returned to Kajang, then made the final journey home. The time? Around 3 a.m. The UKM guards eyed us with suspicion. We told them the whole story – maybe not every dramatic embellishment, but enough. Their faces softened. One even gave a slow nod, the universal signal of 'I've been there too, brother.' We crashed into bed like fallen warriors. Epilogue: The Appendix and the Aftermath Mr T survived. The appendix did not. Today, he lives in Papar, Sabah – married, thriving and still built like a tank. The barait may have retired, but his spirit? Indestructible. As for us? The VC group still exists, if only in WhatsApp messages and occasional get-together. But whenever we recall that wild night – the broken Beetle, the jungle convoy, the dinner-delayed diagnosis – we smile. Because in that ridiculous, rollicking, unforgettable adventure, we learned that friendship is less about convenience and more about showing up – headlights or not. Bangi-Kajang Escapade No. 2: Of Porous Guts and Prison Bonds If my first trip to Kajang Hospital was a heroic midnight odyssey – flashing motorcycles, dying Volkswagen, and emergency appendectomies – then my second visit was… well, considerably less glamorous. This time, I was the patient. And the enemy wasn't appendicitis or Murphy's Law. It was campus food – that unpredictable roulette wheel of sustenance that swung between delightful surprise and digestive doom. Let's be honest: eating in campus cafeterias back then was a daily act of faith. Every plate of 'nasi campur' came with a side of suspense. Was that sambal? Or was it something that had once aspired to be sambal but evolved into something darker? Sometimes, even your fried egg looked like it had seen things. Well, one fine day, my luck ran out. And not quietly. I was brought in by my VC-buddies to the hospital. I found myself doubled over, clenching my stomach. Waves of pain crashed through my body, and dehydration followed like an overzealous debt collector. Within hours, I was horizontal, helpless, and on my way to Kajang Hospital – not in the backseat this time, but on the stretcher, starring in my own queasy soap opera. Funny thing is, to this day, my family has no idea this ever happened. I suppose I thought: why worry Mum over a glorified toilet tale? But while the food poisoning itself was a regrettable blur of cramps, the real story – the one etched into my memory – lay in the person I shared that hospital room with. You might imagine a sympathetic bed-side mate. A fellow student, perhaps. Maybe a wise old uncle who offered soothing words and prayers. No. My bedside mate was a prisoner. An actual, bona fide, handcuffed inmate – wrist shackled to the steel bed rail, guarded round-the-clock by a stone-faced policeman who looked like he'd lost his sense of humour many years ago. Yes, while I groaned in gastrointestinal agony, my unlikely roommate lay silently nearby, watching. Observing. Breathing. Plotting? Reflecting? I couldn't tell. As the ceiling fan creaked overhead and the scent of Dettol mingled with my shame, I began to wonder: Who had it worse? Me, in convulsive pain, whimpering like a broken kettle? Or him – a prisoner, trying to sleep next to a moaning stranger who sounded like he was rehearsing for a ghost film? Between spasms, my imagination went into overdrive. What was he in for? Robbery? Misunderstood heroism? Smuggling cigarettes? Was he innocent? A victim of circumstance? And what did he make of me? Did he think I was faking it? Or perhaps he thought I was the punishment — that I'd been planted beside him as some new form of psychological warfare. The irony was thick. I was the 'free' man. No cuffs. No guard. But I felt just as trapped – bound by my failing stomach, by sterile walls, by the shared discomfort of two lives momentarily aligned. There we were: one prisoner of the state, the other prisoner of his bowels. Neither going anywhere. Both longing for relief, perhaps even understanding. We never spoke. Not a word. Not even a nod. But I like to believe there was a moment – maybe in the dead of night, between my groans and his weary sighs – when our eyes met in mutual, silent solidarity. The kind of understanding that needs no language, forged not in conversation but in shared suffering. A friendship not of words, but of grimace and grit. Looking back, the whole episode now feels almost comical. And though I never learned his name, his story, or even what crime placed him in that bed beside me, that shared moment of midnight misery has stayed with me far longer than the pain ever did. Lesson learned? Sometimes, the best medicine isn't antibiotics or electrolytes. It's perspective. It's humour. It's recognising that even in your lowest, most undignified moment, there's a story forming – a story you'll one day laugh at, shake your head over, and maybe even write down. Here it is. A glimpse into the enduring camaraderie of the VC group from Kamsis F, forged in the late 1980s. Though the years have quietly slipped by, the bond we shared has never faded. Today, with heavy hearts, we honour the memory and say a final, tender farewell to three cherished friends – whose absence leaves a silence that time can never fill. Heartwarming Takeaways In the end, these Kajang Hospital tales weren't just about fevers, scalpels, or suspicious sambal. They were about something far more enduring – friendship in its rawest form, and the quiet ingenuity that blooms when things go gloriously sideways. When Mr T doubled over in pain, it wasn't just his appendix that cried for help – it was a rallying call. No ambulance? No headlights? No problem. We became a makeshift convoy – one red Beetle, three bikes, and a Sabahan groaning in the back – navigating jungle roads with flashlights and reckless loyalty. It was absurd, chaotic, and oddly cinematic. Then came my own less-heroic episode – food poisoning and a hospital bed shared with a handcuffed stranger. Me, groaning in pain; he, resting in silence. We were from different worlds, yet equally stuck. One with cuffs, the other with a rebellious gut. These moments weren't polished or profound – but they were real. And that's where friendship lives: in broken-down Beetles, makeshift motorcades and quiet solidarity across a hospital ward. When plans fall apart, humour and heart stitch things back together. Murphy may strike, but we rise – with flashlights, wit, and whatever dignity we haven't yet vomited away. Years later, the jungle road is paved, but the memories remain – raw, ridiculous and unforgettable. VC forever? Without a doubt. Because once you've saved a friend in a car with no headlights – or shared a ward with a prisoner – you've earned a bond no scroll or ceremony can replace.
The Star
6 days ago
- The Star
Start safety early
With disasters striking schools more frequently, experts stress the need to embed emergency preparedness into education STAYING safe during disasters is a fundamental life skill – one that is crucial for survival. With Malaysia increasingly affected by climate change and experiencing more frequent floods in recent years (see infographic), experts are calling for improved emergency preparedness. They stress that such training must start in schools, many of which have also been directly hit by disasters, including floods and fires (see infographic). Citing statistics, Fire and Rescue Department (JBPM) director-general Datuk Nor Hisham Mohammad said delayed response, panic and lack of knowledge are often key factors in accidents during disasters. 'Malaysia frequently faces disasters such as floods, storms, landslides and structural fires, especially in high-risk areas. Nor Hisham 'Instilling emergency preparedness education at the school level helps build a generation that is more alert, responsible, and equipped to face risks. 'This also supports the United Nations' Sustainable Development Goals and the National Disaster Risk Reduction Policy 2030,' he told StarEdu. ALSO READ: Do more to protect us, say students Nor Hisham shared that several key emergency preparedness skills are often found lacking among students and teachers. 'Many lack sufficient understanding of standard operating procedures during emergencies, such as exit routes, assembly points, fire extinguisher use, and safe and orderly student evacuation protocols. CLICK TO ENLARGE 'In addition, effective communication skills are often neglected. This includes relaying accurate and timely information to the authorities, avoiding the spread of false information, and delivering clear instructions to students,' he said. Nor Hisham stressed the importance of frequent drills and simulations for both teachers and students. ALSO READ: Securing the vulnerable 'At the same time, emphasis should be placed on equipping them with basic first aid knowledge so they can act as first responders before the relevant agencies arrive,' he said. Weighing in, Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia (UKM) Faculty of Medicine Assoc Prof Dr Rosnah Ismail, who is also a public health medicine specialist, said the frequency and scope of emergency drills should reflect each school's risk profile. Dr Rosnah 'For schools assessed as low-risk for fire or flood hazards, conducting a full-scale drill every two years is generally sufficient. These exercises should be treated with the same importance as major school events, such as Sports Day or award ceremonies. 'For high-risk schools, particularly those in flood-prone zones or with older infrastructure, annual drills are essential. 'These should involve multi-agency collaboration such as the JBPM and the Royal Malaysia Police,' she said. Dr Rosnah added that implementing such activities should not impose additional burdens on teachers. CLICK TO ENLARGE 'Parent-teacher associations (PTAs) can take the lead in planning and coordinating these efforts,' she said. She also emphasised the need to distinguish between flood and fire hazards, as this is key to designing more targeted preparedness strategies. Closing the gaps National Union of the Teaching Profession (NUTP) secretary-general Fouzi Singon said many Malaysians, including students, often do not take disaster preparedness seriously. 'It's important to teach risk assessment and emergency response planning. 'Students and staff should know how to react calmly, who to contact during a crisis, and the protocols for various disasters. Building this awareness early helps reduce panic and enhances community resilience,' he said. He added that embedding such practices more effectively through the curriculum, co-curricular activities, or structured teacher training would help ensure greater compliance and awareness. Fouzi Fouzi pointed out that some schools still fall short of meeting safety key performance indicators, despite the Education Ministry's mandate for all schools to implement occupational safety and health (OSH) programmes. 'These include establishing designated assembly points and conducting fire drills – especially in boarding schools,' he said. He stressed the need for the ministry to appoint dedicated OSH personnel to oversee school safety and health matters effectively. 'Although the Occupational Safety and Health Act has been in force since 1994, there is still a lack of qualified OSH officers within the ministry to develop specialised training and modules,' he said. Joining the discourse, Parent Action Group for Education Malaysia (PAGE) chairman Datin Noor Azimah Abdul Rahim said many schools lack consistent practical training in critical areas such as real-time decision-making, basic first aid and rescue skills, situational adaptability, and the use of emergency communication tools. 'In emergencies, split-second decisions are vital. Many are untrained in assessing immediate threats, such as whether to evacuate or shelter in place, what to do if the primary route is blocked, and how to help a peer in distress. Noor Azimah 'Often, students and teachers also do not know how to access or use community alert systems, emergency apps, or basic two-way communication tools in crisis settings,' she said, adding that there is a gap in understanding localised risks, like how to respond differently to flash floods in urban areas versus riverine floods in rural areas. Noor Azimah suggested integrating emergency preparedness into subjects like Geography, Science and Civic Studies, linking it to climate and sustainability education. 'Regular drills involving local fire departments, civil defence, and non-governmental organisations ensure practical readiness, not just theoretical knowledge. 'Empowering students to lead safety initiatives through school clubs also fosters community ownership and peer education,' she said. She further called for mandatory pre-service and in-service training modules on disaster risk reduction in teacher training programmes, developed in partnership with national agencies like the National Disaster Management Agency. Ministry efforts In response to stakeholder calls, the Education Ministry said all principals and headmasters are reminded to take proactive measures to prevent fire incidents in schools. In a statement to StarEdu, it said the measures are outlined in Circular No. 7/2000: Fire Prevention in Schools, adding that safety inspections in schools are comprehensive and not solely focused on fire hazards. Pointing to the Safe School Programme introduced in 2002, the ministry said all schools are required to conduct self-assessment ratings on school safety. On flood mitigation efforts, the ministry said it had developed the Flood Management Guidelines for Schools to assist State Education Departments, District Education Offices and schools in taking precautionary measures should flooding occur in their respective areas. 'Beginning in 2023, the ministry implemented the MOE Preparedness Programme for the Northeast Monsoon to equip the education community for any disasters, including floods,' it added. The ministry also said provisions have been made to address disasters and emergencies such as fire-related hazards, as well as to improve dilapidated infrastructure. 'The government allocated RM1bil under Budget 2025 for the maintenance and repair of schools and educational institutions nationwide,' it said. In the news June 25 - Over 700 fire-hazard abatement (MBK) notices were issued to schools nationwide from 2024 to april this year for failing to meet fire safety standards, said JBPM. - Of the 853 schools inspected, 144 received a total of 767 notices. - Pahang topped the list with 201 notices, followed by Perak (82) and Kuala Lumpur (75). - MBKs are usually issued for issues such as faulty firefighting equipment, and absence of exit signs or emergency lighting. June 6 Malaysia is committed to strengthening school disaster resilience under the national disaster Risk Reduction Policy 2030, said deputy Prime Minister datuk Seri dr ahmad Zahid Hamidi at the 'Safe Schools' Ministerial Roundtable at the global Platform for disaster Risk Reduction in geneva, Switzerland. Key efforts include: > A disaster Risk Reduction Education Module, developed by the Education Ministry, unICEF Malaysia and the national disaster Management agency, for nearly 7,800 primary schools. > RM135mil allocated to build Permanent Relief Centres in high-risk school areas. These will serve as disaster shelters and community learning hubs. > Plans for strategic partnerships with non-governmental organisations, private firms and government-linked companies. Source: Media reports Bomba in action INVOLVE the Fire and Rescue Department (JBPM) in hands-on training or demonstrations with uniformed groups such as Fire Cadets and Junior Firefighters Clubs. That is the call to schools from JBPM director-general Datuk Nor Hisham Mohammad. 'Organise regular workshops – including sessions on using fire extinguishers, cardiopulmonary resuscitation, basic rescue techniques, and evacuation procedures. 'Establish a School Emergency Response Team consisting of trained teachers, staff and students, and hold disaster awareness sessions with parents and local communities,' he added. According to Nor Hisham, JBPM has been actively involved in conducting emergency preparedness and disaster response programmes in schools across the country (see infographic). 'These are carried out in collaboration with the Education Ministry and other agencies to ensure that students and teachers are prepared to face emergency situations,' he shared. Bomba training initiatives for the young Fire Cadets or Junior Firefighters Clubs - Uniformed unit programme offered in primary and secondary schools by the Education Ministry in collaboration with JBPM - Students trained in basic fire safety, such as foot drills, hose handling and emergency procedures - Goal: Prepare students for fires and emergencies while instilling discipline Fire drill simulations - Simulate real emergency scenarios to test the preparedness of students and staff Building evacuation drills - Involve all school members in practising proper evacuation and early emergency response Source: JBPM director-general Datuk Nor Hisham Mohammad Fire statistics in Malaysian educational institutions Educational institutions classified into 10 categories: Preschools (government & private), primary schools (government & private), secondary schools (government & private), boarding schools, tahfiz schools. public institutes of higher learning (IPTA), and private institutes of higher learning (IPTS) Source: Fire and Rescue Department (JBPM)
The Star
6 days ago
- The Star
Securing the vulnerable
Way forward: Mapping schools based on hazard exposure allows for targeted resource allocation, says Dr Rosnah. – Freepik EQUITABLE, long-term and scalable interventions – beyond just emergency preparedness training – should be introduced in schools, particularly those serving vulnerable communities, say stakeholders. Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia (UKM) Faculty of Medicine Assoc Prof Dr Rosnah Ismail suggested using Geographic Information Systems (GIS) to prioritise high-risk schools. 'Schools should be systematically mapped based on hazard exposure, such as flood zones, fire-prone areas, or poor infrastructure that may lead to landslides. 'This allows for targeted resource allocation, ensuring that practical interventions such as emergency equipment, training, and early warning systems are prioritised for the most vulnerable schools,' she said. She also recommended utilising artificial intelligence (AI)-simulated data to predict the consequences of system failures. 'AI and machine learning models can be employed to simulate the potential impact of fires or floods based on historical incident data and current infrastructure conditions. 'These simulations can help policymakers and school administrators visualise worst-case scenarios, assess the effectiveness of current control measures, and design evidence-based preparedness and response strategies,' she said. Dr Rosnah, who is also a public health medicine specialist, further emphasised the importance of hazard-proofing infrastructure in ageing school buildings. 'Collaboration with local government agencies, the Public Works Department, and engineering bodies is essential to upgrade outdated school infrastructure. 'Key improvements should include reinforcing building structures, enhancing drainage capacity to prevent water accumulation, and replacing or insulating old electrical wiring to reduce fire risk. 'These structural interventions must be tailored to local hazard profiles to ensure sustainability and cost-effectiveness,' she said. Parent Action Group for Education Malaysia (PAGE) chairman Datin Noor Azimah Abdul Rahim called for investment in resilient infrastructure. 'Schools in flood-prone areas need elevated classrooms, proper drainage, and access to emergency power supplies. 'Each school should have an updated risk profile and disaster response plan tailored to local conditions.' she said. She also suggested introducing funding mechanisms for disaster resilience. 'Introduce dedicated national or state-level funds for school-based disaster resilience planning. 'Improve community-based early warning systems. Deploy accessible and multilingual alerts via SMS, radio, and community leaders to ensure no group is left behind,' she said. She added that recovery plans should include psychosocial support, especially for children from marginalised or repeatedly affected communities. 'Malaysia is increasingly vulnerable to climate-related disasters. Embedding preparedness into education ensures that schools are not just centres of learning, but also safe community hubs during emergencies. 'It's also a matter of equity – underserved communities suffer most when preparedness is lacking,' she said. – By ROWENA CHUA
