一场灾难与一座城市的失落纪实
《在野党》记者 缪青
编辑：李聪玲 校对：熊辩 翻译：彭小梅
图片来自于网络
2025年11月26日的清晨，一束意外的火光撕开了城市的沉默。宏福苑的住宅楼外墙突然燃起大火，火舌沿着施工棚架与遮挡网一路攀升，像一条失控的烈焰巨龙，将整座大楼吞噬。当第一束火光照亮整个社区时，香港，这座曾向世界展示秩序、精致与自由的城市，也被照出了最不愿承认的裂缝。
截止笔者发稿为止：128条生命在此刻静止，84人受伤，尚有200余人失联。数字在灾难面前显得冰冷，而它们构成的，却是香港多年未曾面对的黑暗轮廓。
这是数字，但每一个数字背后，都是一段被截断的生命。香港；那颗曾被称作东方之珠的城市，在火光中显得格外黯淡。
一、火光照亮的，是香港的影子
楼体燃烧的声音像一段暴烈的奏鸣曲，窗户与外墙崩裂的碎响仿佛一座城市的心房逐寸碎裂。从远处望去，那座住宅楼像一支巨大的黑色蜡烛，在夜色中流淌着绝望的泪。有人在街角失声痛哭，有人在黑烟中奔跑寻找亲人，也有人站在安全地带久久沉默——仿佛在试图分辨，这场大火燃烧的，还是他们记忆中曾经的那座城市香港吗？还是那一个自由、繁荣、国际化、亚洲最安全的城市？还是那个“光辉岁月”的香港吗？
宏福苑上空，滚滚黑烟升起的那一刻，许多港人心中的第一反应是：“怎么会变成这样？”
过去的香港，大火极少夺走上百条生命，更不会伴随大规模失联。城市的安全曾经是它的骄傲，甚至被写进许多移民者的回忆里。然而这一夜，火势蔓延之快、损失之惨重，都带着一种香港市民颇为熟悉的“陌生感”。那是一种源自内地式工程隐患、监管塌缩与制度失序的熟悉。
火光映照下的，不止是居民逃生的身影，也是香港“光辉岁月”渐行渐远的影子。一位在场的老居民喃喃自语：“这个地方……再不是我认识的香港了。”
二、曾经的安全，如今成为怀旧
香港曾经是亚洲城市中的安全样本。它的工程标准、监管制度、媒体监督与市民意识，像无形的钢筋，将城市托在坚固的手掌上。但如今，这些手指正悄悄松开，大楼外墙使用的易燃材料、火势蔓延速度、令人震惊的建筑结构、无人能说清的内地熟悉的外包与转包链条在火光中一一暴露。昔日香港的安全感，连同曾经的透明、公义与问责，都在夜色里被灼得发黑。这种痛，港人并不陌生。它来自那股加速内地化的推力，来自那种把生命安全放在政治之后的治理逻辑，来自一种曾让无数华人心惊的“人祸模式”。现在，这种模式，正潜入香港的每一处缝隙。
事故调查初步信息显示：外墙棚架使用不符合防火要求的材料；电梯厅外墙贴有发泡胶板，遇火极易加速蔓延；大楼部分消防设施维护不全；维修工程中出现大量外包、转包痕迹。
在过去的香港，这些情况几乎不可想象。
标准、审查、问责，是香港建筑监管的“三道门”。但是，国安法实施后，城市的优先顺序悄然改变，政权安全压倒公共安全，政治稳定挤压技术监管，媒体与公民监督的空间不断缩窄。
当监督者被压制，制度的漏洞就不会被堵上；当工程成本被无限压缩，劣质材料便找到了生存缝隙。
于是，一个最“不香港”的香港悲剧终于出现。
三、沉默的监管，沉没的生命
如果说火焰的蔓延是爆烈的，那么监管的沉默就是缓慢的死亡。当工程监管被削弱，当媒体不能追问，当公民社会无法发声，当问责制度被稀释成一种姿态而非行动，安全便开始下沉，像一块铁，沉入海底最深处。
宏福苑的火，只是沉到底部的一次爆裂。在此之前，它已经在黑暗中悄悄燃烧了很久。宏福苑的居民有许多抱怨早已埋在心里：维修工程反复延后、材料来历不明、施工方层层外包、社区难以问责……但这些声音在收紧的政治空间里，没有了回响的地方。
香港曾是全球工程与公共安全标准的样板：透明招标、独立验楼、消防处三重审查、廉署反腐制度的强力介入……让香港长期以工程标准严谨、公共安全记录较佳著称。
如今，这一切正在以肉眼可见的速度褪色。“内地化”不仅是政治领域的变化，更是一整套治理逻辑的更迭：监管靠上级指令，而非制度独立；工程以成本与效率为先，而非安全；公共资源优先投入维稳，而非民生；媒体无法追问；公民无法参与。内地城市中常见的：偷工减料 → 监管空缺 → 群死群伤 → 追责不明 → 再度循环，如今居然在香港上演。
这是许多港人最深的痛：曾经的安全感与信任被悄悄抽走，像被火焰灼过的墙壁，触之即碎。
四、火焰灼伤的，是香港精神
在火灾现场，有居民捡起一片烧焦的金属。那片铁冷得像沉默的纪念碑。他轻轻说：“香港，不再是我们认识的那个了。”这句话比火焰更刺耳。被烧灼的，不仅是建筑材料，还有那个曾经精致而骄傲、自由而多元、勇敢而执着的香港精神。
那是英国时代培养的专业与法治、是97前后无数港人共同维护的秩序与尊严、是被世界称为东方之珠的繁华背后，一整代香港人日夜打磨的信念。
如今，那份精神正被灼烧成灰，随风飘散。火光中闪烁的楼影，像是一面镜子，照映出曾经的香港的倒影正在远去，那倒影甚至比火焰更令人心碎。
曾经的香港，任何风吹草动都可能成为媒体追查的起点；现在的香港，媒体报道“必须谨慎”，问责也“必须温和”。
监督的沉默，就是事故的温床。
它让每一颗螺丝松得更快，也让每一次小型隐患被悄悄掩埋，直到忽然一把大火让世人纷纷惊愕侧目，猛烈的火焰让中共治理下的丑陋曝光于天下。
五、灰烬之上：哀悼，是为了拒绝遗忘
我们向逝者致哀。但纪念逝者，也意味着拒绝遗忘他们为什么会死。拒绝遗忘，是为了让这场火不再横扫下一栋楼、下一条街、下一代港人； 拒绝遗忘，是为了让香港不在灰烬与麻木之间沉沦；拒绝遗忘，是为了提醒这个城市：光辉岁月不是诗句，而是千万市民以信任与自由筑起来的现实。它值得被守住，即便现在的香港看似已经失去了那把钥匙。
大埔的大火将香港精神被烧灼得体无完肤。
那是英国时代培养的一代城市精英的离散；
是专业主义、法治文化与责任伦理的败退；
是一个城市长期赖以自豪的秩序与安全突然崩裂；
是“东方之珠”暗淡后的那种难以言说的痛。
这场大火，烧毁的不是一栋楼：而是港人共同记忆中的光辉岁月。
结语：愿灰烬孕育新的光
大火终会熄灭，但火焰留下的阴影，会久久笼罩着香港的心口。愿这场悲剧成为一道深深的刻痕，让香港重新记起自己曾经的模样，不是被恐惧统治的城市，而是被自由、制度与公义托起的城市。
愿香港能在灰烬中重新寻找光，不是大火的光，而是城市曾经拥有、曾照亮无数年轻人未来的那束光。愿香港不因灼伤而沉默，愿东方之珠仍有再度闪亮的可能。
宏福苑的废墟上，有居民轻声说：“这不是火灾的问题，是时代的问题。”
我们必须记住这一夜，记住火光所照映的创伤，记住烟雾中消散的信任，记住香港精神曾经的光亮。
愿这场悲剧不仅成为香港的警醒，也成为城市重建公义、安全与信任的起点。唯有如此，东方之珠才有可能再次闪光。不再因火焰，而因自由；不再因悲剧，而因重生。
《在野党》：记者 缪青 撰写于旧金山 11/28/2025
Flames Darken the Ground: An Elegy of Our Era in the Hong Fuk Court Fire, Hong Kong
A Chronicle of a Disaster and a City’s LossBy Miao Qing, Reporter of Opposition PartyEdited by Li Congling · Proofread by Xiong Bian · Translated by Peng Xiaomei
Abstract:The Hong Fuk Court fire resulted in major casualties, exposing the collapse of safety in Hong Kong as regulatory systems fell apart, construction quality deteriorated through corner-cutting, and governance became increasingly mainland-style. The flames illuminated the city’s sense of loss and spiritual decline, becoming a historical warning of the disintegration of public safety and justice in Hong Kong.
Image sourced from the Internet
On the morning of November 26, 2025, an unexpected burst of flame tore open the silence of the city. The exterior wall of a residential tower in Hong Fuk Court suddenly caught fire. Flames climbed rapidly along the scaffolding and protective nets, like a runaway dragon of fire swallowing the entire building. When the first burst of light illuminated the whole neighborhood, Hong Kong—the city that once showed the world order, refinement, and freedom—was also illuminated with cracks it least wished to acknowledge.
As of the time of writing: 128 lives have come to a halt, 84 people are injured, and more than 200 people remain missing. Numbers appear cold in the face of disaster, yet taken together, they outline a darkness Hong Kong has not confronted for many years.
They are numbers—but behind each number is a life abruptly cut off. Hong Kong, the city once called the Pearl of the Orient, appeared especially dim in the glow of the flames.
I. What the Fire Illuminated Was Hong Kong’s Shadow
The burning of the building sounded like a violent symphony, and the cracking of windows and walls felt as though the city’s heart was breaking inch by inch. From afar, the residential block looked like a massive black candle melting in despair through the night. Some people wept uncontrollably on street corners, some ran through the thick smoke searching for loved ones, and some stood silently at a distance—trying to discern whether the fire was consuming the city in their memories: Hong Kong, the free, prosperous, international, and once safest city in Asia. The Hong Kong of “Glory Days.”
When the thick smoke rose above Hong Fuk Court, many Hongkongers’ first reaction was: “How did it become like this?”
In the past, Hong Kong rarely saw fires claiming over a hundred lives, nor large-scale disappearances. Public safety used to be the city’s pride, etched into countless immigrants’ recollections. Yet this night, the speed at which the fire spread, and the extent of the damage carried a sense of “familiar strangeness”—a familiarity rooted in mainland-style construction hazards, regulatory collapse, and systemic disorder.
What the firelight reflected was not only residents fleeing for their lives, but also the fading shadow of Hong Kong’s “glory days.” An elderly resident murmured:“This… is no longer the Hong Kong I knew.”
II. What Used to Be Safety Has Now Become Nostalgia
Hong Kong was once a model of safety among Asian cities. Its engineering standards, regulatory system, media oversight, and civic vigilance were like invisible steel beams holding the city aloft. Today, these fingers are loosening. The flammable materials on the exterior wall, the frightening speed of the fire’s spread, the shocking structural vulnerabilities, and the unclear mainland-style outsourcing and subcontracting—these were all exposed in the flames. The sense of safety that Hong Kong once had, along with transparency, justice, and accountability, were charred black in the night. This pain felt familiar to Hongkongers. It came from the accelerating push toward mainlandization—from a governance logic that places political considerations above human safety—from a “man-made disaster model” that has haunted Chinese communities for decades. Now, this model is creeping into every corner of Hong Kong.
Preliminary investigation shows: Scaffolding materials did not meet fire-prevention standards; Foam insulation panels on elevator lobbies accelerated fire spread; Portions of the fire-safety system were poorly maintained; Widespread outsourcing and subcontracting occurred during repair work.
In the Hong Kong of the past, these problems would have been unthinkable.
Standards, audits, and accountability were the three gates of Hong Kong’s building-safety regime. But after the National Security Law was enacted, the city’s priorities quietly shifted: regime security outweighed public safety; political stability squeezed out technical regulation; media and citizen oversight shrank.
When oversight is suppressed, structural flaws remain open. When construction costs are endlessly cut, inferior materials find room to survive.
Thus, the most “un-Hong Kong-like” tragedy finally occurred.
III. Silent Regulation, Sunken Lives
If the spread of flames is explosive, then silent regulation is a slow form of death. When engineering oversight weakens, when the media cannot ask questions, when civil society cannot speak, when accountability becomes mere posture rather than action, safety begins to sink—like a piece of iron dropping to the ocean floor.
The blaze at Hong Fuk Court was only one explosion at the bottom. Long before this, it had already been smoldering in the dark. Residents had long held complaints: delays in maintenance, unknown origins of materials, layers of subcontracting, communities unable to pursue accountability. These voices found no echo in a tightening political space.
Hong Kong used to be a global model of engineering rigor and public safety: transparent bidding, independent inspections, triple fire-department audits, and the ICAC’s anti-corruption oversight.
Today, all of this is fading quickly. “Mainlandization” is not only a shift in political structure—it is an entire change of governance logic: Regulation follows political directives, not institutional independence; Projects prioritize cost and efficiency, not safety; Public resources go to regime maintenance, not public welfare; Media cannot investigate; Citizens cannot participate. The familiar mainland cycle—cut corners → regulatory gaps → mass casualties → unclear accountability → repeat—is now happening in Hong Kong.
For many Hongkongers, this is the deepest wound: The city’s sense of safety and trust has been quietly removed—like a fire-scorched wall, crumbling at the slightest touch.
IV. What the Flames Scorched Was Hong Kong’s Spirit
At the fire site, a resident picked up a charred piece of metal. It was cold like a silent monument. He said softly: “Hong Kong… is no longer the Hong Kong we knew.” These words cut deeper than the flames. What burned was not only construction material.It was the spirit of Hong Kong—once refined, proud, free, diverse, brave, and unyielding.
That spirit was built over generations: By professionalism and the rule of law during the British era; By the collective effort of Hongkongers around 1997; By the belief system that supported the Pearl of the Orient’s global reputation.
Today, that spirit is being scorched into ash, drifting in the wind. The flickering shadow of the burned tower looked like a mirror reflecting the vanishing silhouette of Hong Kong’s past—more heartbreaking than the flames themselves.
In the old Hong Kong, any minor accident might trigger media investigation.In today’s Hong Kong, reporting “must be cautious,” and accountability “must be gentle.”
When oversight falls silent, accidents find fertile ground.
Every screw loosens faster; every small hazard is quietly buried—until suddenly, a massive fire shocks the world, revealing the ugliness of CCP-style governance.
V. Above the Ashes: Mourning Is a Refusal to Forget
We mourn the dead. But to remember them is also to refuse to forget why they died.
Refusal to forget prevents the fire from sweeping across another building, another street, another generation. Refusal to forget keeps Hong Kong from sinking into numbness and ashes. Refusal to forget reminds the city that its “glory days” were not poetry—they were reality, built by millions through trust and freedom. Even if today’s Hong Kong seems to have lost the key to that past, it must still be remembered and defended.
The fire at Tai Po burned Hong Kong’s spirit raw.
It marked:— The dispersal of a generation of elites shaped by the British era;— The retreat of professionalism, legal culture, and ethical responsibility;— The collapse of the order and safety the city long took pride in;— The unspeakable pain of the Pearl of the Orient dimming.
This fire did not destroy only a building—It destroyed the “glory days” in Hongkongers’ shared memory.
Conclusion: May Light Be Born from the Ashes
The flames will eventually go out. But the shadows they cast will linger long over Hong Kong’s heart. May this tragedy become a deep scar reminding Hong Kong of its former self—not a city ruled by fear, but a city upheld by freedom, institutions, and justice.
May Hong Kong find light again—not the light of fire, but the light it once possessed, the light that illuminated the future of countless young people. May Hong Kong refuse to fall silent because of pain. May the Pearl of the Orient shine again
On the ruins of Hong Fuk Court, a resident whispered: “This is not a fire problem. It is an era problem.”
We must remember this night, remember the wounds the flames revealed, remember the trust dissipating in the smoke, remember the brilliance Hong Kong’s spirit once had.
May this tragedy be not only Hong Kong’s warning, but the beginning of rebuilding justice, safety, and trust—the only path by which the Pearl of the Orient may shine once more. Not because of flames, but because of freedom; Not because of tragedy, but because of rebirth.
Opposition Party · Report by Miao QingWritten in San Francisco, November 28, 2025
