![2026年1月26日,萬隆慈濟志工前往土石流災區進行勘災。[攝影者:Muhammad Dayar]](https://tw.tzuchi.org/community/images/community/8DDEF0C0FC1B11F0AD37542CDC45A775_0.jpg)
Several days of relentless rain turned the hillside above Pasirlangu Village into a threat that residents of Cisarua, West Bandung Regency, will never forget. In the early hours of 24 January 2026, a deafening roar shattered the night as a mass of mud and boulders broke loose, sweeping through Kampung Pasirkuning and down toward Kampung Pasir Kuda.
By the time the sun rose over this corner of West Java, 17 people had lost their lives. According to the West Java Regional Disaster Management Agency (BPBD), 52 houses were badly damaged, and 824 residents were forced to leave their homes for makeshift shelters.
In the days that followed, fear and grief hung heavy in the crowded evacuation sites. On 26 January, three Tzu Chi volunteers from Bandung made their way along still‑unstable, slippery roads into the disaster zone to meet the people behind those numbers.
Fleeing in the dark
When the hillside gave way around 2 a.m., there was no warning beyond the sound.
Fifty‑two‑year‑old Entin Suryati remembers every moment. She had no time to think, only to run.
The landslide happened at around two in the morning. There was a sudden, very loud noise. Everyone was screaming and running for their lives. My mother and I just ran; we couldn’t take anything with us.—Entin Suryati
Her home was damaged, and the family’s few belongings were buried or washed away. In the shelter, Entin now has only what relatives and aid workers have been able to provide. The food and basic items she received during the Tzu Chi distribution immediately eased some of the pressure.
For 28‑year‑old Neni Hayati, the same night stole far more than possessions. She was asleep when the ground seemed to move.
She described hearing a crashing sound “like an earthquake.” She shook her husband awake and grabbed their child. Outside, neighbors were already running. Neni joined them, clutching her child as they scrambled through the darkness and rain.
Her extended family had 17 members. By 26 January, only four had been found. Exhausted, eyes swollen with tears, Neni spoke of her loss and of the small comfort of being heard. Volunteers sat with her, asked quietly after her relatives, and listened as she pieced together what had happened. In a space where words often fail, that patient attention became part of her support.
Practical help for urgent needs
At the main shelter in Cisarua, the needs were straightforward but urgent: safe food, something warm to sleep under, and basic hygiene.
Carrying everything by truck and then on foot into the still‑muddy area, the volunteers brought:
- 500 kg of rice
- 20 kg of instant egg noodles
- 120 packs of bread
- 200 blankets
- 100 pieces of baby diapers
- 120 bottles of eucalyptus oil
- 120 pieces of women’s underwear
- 60 liters of cooking oil
- 20 “relief buckets,” each containing a blanket, clothing, sarong, and cleaning supplies


LEFT: Volunteers in Cisarua, West Bandung Regency, distribute relief supplies to landslide survivors. RIGHT: The aid includes rice, cooking oil, egg noodles, blankets, and hygiene items to support families in the shelters. | Photos: Muhammad Dayar
Each family received what they needed most at that moment: something to eat, something to wear, something to keep out the night air. For parents with infants, diapers and oil to keep small bodies warm were especially welcome. Blankets and sarongs served both as bedding and as privacy screens in crowded rooms.
The volunteers did not rush the process. With every bag of rice or relief bucket passed from hand to hand, they spoke softly to the person in front of them, offering good wishes and, where appropriate, a brief prayer. For many residents, this was the first chance since the disaster to pause and speak about how they were coping.
Listening to loss, standing with survivors
For the Bandung team, the visit was as much about being present as it was about delivering supplies.
Volunteer Tek-Seo Lim (林德煥) joined the trip to Pasirlangu after hearing early reports of the disaster. Seeing the hillside and the destroyed houses in person was different from reading any briefing.
Hearing the news already felt heavy. But standing here and seeing the damage with our own eyes is even more painful. Many people lost their homes. Some are still searching for missing family members. This is a very serious disaster.—Tek-Seo Lim, Volunteer


LEFT: Volunteer Tek-Soe Lim (left) accompanies and comforts Entin Suryati (right), who is grateful for the assistance her family received. RIGHT: According to BPBD data as of 26 January 2026, the landslide caused 17 deaths, 52 severely damaged houses, and forced 824 people into temporary shelters. | Photos: Muhammad Dayar
Lim hopes that the supplies brought in this first visit can at least ease some of the immediate burden while local authorities and aid agencies work on longer‑term arrangements. At the same time, the team carried notebooks and phones, documenting conditions and speaking to village leaders and residents. Their aim was to understand which households were most at risk and how future assistance could be targeted.
Throughout the day, volunteers moved between rows of mats and makeshift partitions in the shelter, greeting people, checking on the elderly and children, and listening to those who wanted to talk. Some residents spoke of the noise and chaos of that night; others spoke simply of worry—about where they would live, how their children would return to school, and when it might feel safe to sleep again when the rain falls.
Local leaders and communities share the load
Pasirlangu Village head Nurawaludin Lubis has been at the center of the response since the first hours after the landslide. Coordinating with BPBD and other agencies, he has worked to organize evacuations, arrange temporary shelter, and keep track of residents who are still missing.
He welcomed the volunteers’ visit and the supplies they brought.
He expressed his thanks for the concern shown towards the villagers and emphasized how practical the items were for people now living in crowded shelters. For him, their presence also had a symbolic value: it showed residents that they were not facing this disaster alone.
The distribution was carried out in coordination with village officials to avoid duplication and to ensure that the most affected households—those whose homes were destroyed or who had lost family members—received support first.
At the same time, safety remained a priority. Roads in and out of the affected area were still at risk of further landslides, especially with rain continuing on some days. Volunteers adjusted routes and timing based on instructions from local authorities and BPBD staff on the ground, taking care not to expose residents or themselves to unnecessary danger.
Holding onto hope amid uncertainty
For Cisarua’s residents, the path back to ordinary life will not be quick. Houses must be repaired or rebuilt, livelihoods restored, and children helped back into familiar routines. Some families, like Neni’s, are still waiting for news of missing loved ones.
Yet even in this early phase of response, small signs of resilience are visible: neighbors sharing food, parents taking turns watching children so others can rest, and community leaders coordinating information so that no household is overlooked.
The volunteers’ visit may have been brief, but it was one thread in a wider fabric of support woven by local authorities, emergency responders, and community members themselves. It showed, in a concrete way, that beyond the statistics reported by BPBD, each number represents a person whose pain is seen and whose needs matter.
Written by Moch Rizki Hermadinata



