Azrai Izet, the husband of Nor Fadzilah Abd Rahim who disappeared together with flight MH370 on March 8. -Astro AWANI Photo

KUALA LUMPUR: The first time I saw the husband of one of the passengers on flight MH370 Nor Fadzilah Abd Rahim, he was sobbing uncontrollably in front of the Prime Minister’s wife, Datin Seri Rosmah Mansor on March 9 during the special telecast on the missing Malaysia Airlines (MAS) aircraft.

At the time, the world witnessed Azrai Izet begging repeatedly for authorities to find the plane.

“Please madam (Rosmah). I have four children and the youngest is only two-years-old,” Azrai repeated in between sobs.

His words still resonate in my mind, nearly a month after the plane disappeared from the radar en route to Beijing from Kuala Lumpur on March 8 – just a few words but his pain and sadness can still be felt to this day.

He is just a man from hundreds of families missing their loved ones on MH370. One of the millions of Malaysians and people from all over the world, armed with only a prayer and hope that the plane will be found in the near future and the passengers somehow survived and are waiting to come home.


If you could turn each prayer into a raindrop, I’m sure it could fill the entire Indian Ocean.

I tried to get to know Azrai better through Facebook and I even sent a friend request which he has yet to respond until today.

The last posting Azrai had on his Facebook was of him asking his friends to pray for his wife’s safety.

Nor Fadzilah is among the 20 Freescale Semiconductor employees on the missing plane.

I also found out that one of his children is a Form One student at Sekolah Sains Raja Tun Azlan Shah (SERATAS) in Taiping, Perak.

Azrai and Nor Fadzillah have four children, three boys and a girl, all aged between 13 and two.

On April 3, I had the opportunity to meet Azrai at a Solat Hajat and Yasin recital organised by Sekolah Alam Shah (ASAS) Alumni.

I had a million questions for him - I wanted to understand his feelings, ask him about his hopes, his children, his life – but I only managed to remain quiet, deep in prayer, hoping against hope that a miracle will happen.

After the prayers were concluded, I picked up my courage to meet face-to-face with Azrai, shaking his hand while only braving a smile.

Azrai looked at me blankly and nodded – visions of him on the TV screen flashed through my mind – this is the man who had sobbed uncontrollably at the airport in early March.

I can only imagine the deep sadness that enveloped the families of passengers and crew members on flight MH370 after Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak announced on March 24, that flight MH370 ended in the southern Indian Ocean, about 2,500 kilometres south west of Perth, Australia.

“There’s no need to ask anything anymore. I want to take care of all my children,” he whispered softly.

I felt numb after the words were spoken and I only managed follow him with my eyes as he made his way slowly to the school’s dining hall for refreshments.

Following closely behind was his four-year-old son.

I had come to meet Azrai, hoping to capture his words on camera to be shared with all Malaysians and the world, but this assignment is obviously not like the previous ones I have done before.

After dinner, Azrai shook my hand again and left his number for me to contact and quietly slipped away.

An elderly man, who introduced himself as Azrai’s father-in-law, then patted me on the back and said:

“There’s no need to ask anything anymore, Azrai now wants to take good care of his four children.”