Aceh is calling for help.
This is not a political slogan. It is a humanitarian cry rising from evacuation shelters, flooded villages, and ruined farmlands. After the devastating floods that struck Aceh, thousands of families are struggling to survive amid loss, uncertainty, and silence.
Homes have collapsed or been buried in mud. Rice fields—the backbone of rural livelihoods—have been destroyed. Livestock, savings, and years of hard work were swept away in a single night. For many victims, the flood did not only take property; it took dignity, security, and hope.
Today, survivors live in temporary shelters that were never meant to become long-term spaces of life. Clean water is limited. Food supplies are inconsistent. Health risks are growing, especially for children, pregnant women, and the elderly. Education has been disrupted, and trauma remains largely untreated.
Aceh’s people are known for their patience and resilience. They endure hardship with faith and dignity. But resilience should never be mistaken for self-sufficiency. Patience should never be used to justify neglect. No community, no matter how strong, can recover alone from a disaster of this scale.
This flood is not merely a natural calamity. It reflects years of environmental neglect, poor river management, uncontrolled land exploitation, and weak disaster preparedness. When rivers overflow repeatedly and settlements drown year after year, disaster becomes a pattern—one that is created, not accidental.
Aceh calls for help not only in the form of emergency aid, but in meaningful, sustained action. The victims need safe housing, access to clean water, medical services, psychological support, and the restoration of livelihoods. Children need schools. Families need certainty. Communities need protection from future floods.
This is a call to the government, humanitarian agencies, civil society, and the international community: do not let Aceh suffer in isolation. Do not let flood victims fade into statistics and forgotten headlines.
Aceh once stood at the center of global solidarity after the 2004 tsunami. That spirit of humanity must not be allowed to disappear. Solidarity should not be selective or seasonal—it must answer every cry for help, no matter how quietly it is spoken.
Aceh is calling for help today—not tomorrow, not after the news cycle ends.
Because behind every flooded house is a human life waiting to be restored.
If you wish, I can adapt this piece into:
a formal open letter to the government or donors,
a shorter media op-ed, or
a campaign statement for humanitarian fundraising.
