A Hong Kong netizen surnamed Lim posts on Facebook group chat about his experience surviving from the deadly fire at Wang Fuk Court residential compound in Hong Kong on November 26, 2025. Photo: Screenshot of his social media post

A total of 144 individuals previously listed as missing in the Tai Po Wang Fuk Court fire have been confirmed safe, the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region (HKSAR) government announced at a press conference on Saturday afternoon. 

The firefighting and rescue operations at Wang Fuk Court have been completed on Friday. On the same day, a fire survivor surnamed Lim at this residential compound posted a long story on social media, providing a gripping first-person account of moments between life or death. His testimony offers netizens a rare and visceral look into the chaos, fear and helplessness that residents experienced during this devastating fire that had caused at least 128 death as of Saturday afternoon. 

This post also described how firefighters risked their lives to rescue him, as well as the touching moments of mutual help among neighbors. Many netizens were deeply moved by his account.

A photo from inside of the room where the survivor Lim lived amid the deadly fire at Wang Fuk Court Photo: Screenshot of the survivor’s social media post

Here's the full text of his post: 

On the day of the incident, I was resting at home. When my wife called to tell me there was a fire, I immediately changed clothes and prepared to leave. The moment I opened the door, everything went dark. Thick smoke swallowed me. I tried turning on the flashlight on my phone, but I couldn't even see my own hand. Breathing became difficult. I immediately shut the door and went back inside.

I felt lost. When I called my wife again, she was already in tears. I asked her, "If I try to run through the emergency exit to the lobby, can I escape?" She told me the lobby had already turned into a sea of fire. In that moment, I knew my last escape route was gone. I was imprisoned in this place called "home," now a living hell. All I could do was wait—helplessly—for rescue.

I calmed myself and soaked some towels with water. Suddenly, I heard voices in the corridor outside. Holding a wet towel, I rushed out without hesitation. Within ten seconds, my eyes were tearing uncontrollably, and my throat burned. It was then I knew: if I didn't rescue the people in the corridor, the consequences in such an environment would be unimaginable.

Feeling my way along the wall, I moved forward slowly, calling out, "Come over here!" I touched someone's body and immediately pulled them inside my home. I breathed a sigh of relief and felt I was no longer fighting alone. Even in less than a minute in that corridor, I felt unbearable discomfort—the true horror of being engulfed in smoke.

I gave the couple wet towels and water. They were lightly dressed and wearing slippers, which would have made escaping difficult, so I helped them put on socks and shoes, handed them long pants and hats, and told them, "If things become critical, we'll try jumping out the window. We're on the second floor—it should be possible."

After settling them in a room and telling them not to worry—"We won't die"—I sat quietly by the window. Through the glass, I watched burning debris fall from the sky like black snow mixed with sparks, a rain of despair. The sight was so cruel it was suffocating.

There are so many things in life I cannot control: the coming and going of people, the rise and fall of fate, the loss of loved ones. I always believed that at the very least, I could control my own body, my own steps; that in the final moment, I could still fight for my life. But this time, even that last bit of control was stripped away by the fire.

Life or death—the ultimate question of philosophy—had never appeared so concrete, so terrifying before me. And yet, the answer was no longer in my hands.

I picked up my phone to say a few last words to those who mattered to me. My mother, who lives overseas, called when she heard what was happening. I calmly told her, "Mom, don't worry. The firefighters are rescuing me. I'm fine. I can't talk now—I need to pack up and get ready to run."

When I hung up, tears filled my eyes. It felt like a final farewell. Explosions kept sounding outside, flames roaring everywhere. I thought I might never leave this place alive. But then, I saw a firefighter outside the window. I waved and flashed my light repeatedly. Around 4 pm, the firefighters spotted me and said they were arranging rescues. I knew they were doing everything they could. Since I was still safe, I knew I had to wait.

That sense of utter helplessness was more suffocating than the smoke. I could do nothing but sit there. The couple began to struggle for breath—we had been trapped for hours, and even a single breath of fresh air had become a luxury.

At around 6 pm, firefighters arrived with a ladder and told us they would rescue us one by one. The wife asked me to leave first. I told her, "I'm younger—I can endure a bit longer. You should go first." She asked me to take care of her husband, and I helped him climb out the window before they were taken away.

Once they left safely, I was alone again. I stood quietly, thinking about what I could take with me—models I had spent countless nights painting, limited-edition figures I adored, luxury items, my child's toys, my wife's treasured belongings. I wanted to take everything, yet I could take nothing. I had wasted the last precious moments when I could have packed more—but instead, I stood still, looking at the ruins around me, silently bidding farewell to my home.

In the end, I just wanted to thank the firefighters who risked their lives to save us.

Now, I am under observation in the hospital. In the past, whenever I was hospitalized, I was always impatient to be discharged and return home. When the nurse asked whether I was eager to leave this time, I shook my head silently.

Can I still go home?

This fire, in its most brutal way, made me understand that in the face of impermanence, we are never the masters—only fragile, temporary inhabitants.

Though times are tough, our spirit is tougher. Let's heal and rebuild together.

The post moved many people online, prompting an outpouring of encouragement and support for the survivor.

"You are also a hero, you saved two lives," said local media such as HK01 and Kinliu.hk, quoting netizens responding to Lim's story. 

Global Times