The renovation mesh draped over the Wang-Fuk Court towers was designed to protect the streets below from falling debris. Instead, on the afternoon of November 26th, it sealed the fate of those inside. What started as a category-three-alarm fire progressed into a category-five less than ten hours later: the highest-level fire emergency in Hong Kong. Behind the opaque green sheets, residents, a majority elderly and retired, boiled water for tea or napped, unaware that the air outside their windows was turning to poison. By the time the alarms finally rang—for those lucky enough to hear them—the stairwells were impassable. The death toll climbed with terrifying speed, rising from single digits to 159, with over 200 still unaccounted for.
The blackened skeleton of the complex stands in stark contrast to the bright green mesh that covered it just days ago. For my family, this tragedy is not just a headline. My great-aunt Grace lives in a tower much like Wang-Fuk. She is 75, retired, and on the nineteenth floor of a building in close proximity to the incident.
Close by, construction workers at local sites smoke cigarettes during their break. If the sparks hit the safety mesh, it could lead to a dangerous result.
On the afternoon of November 26th, my father called my great-aunt Grace frantically. As he paced the living room back and forth, news footage showed towers billowing in thick smoke, girded with the wailing firetrucks.
“Ah, don’t worry, I’m fine,” she eventually answered calmly. “I was just sleeping.”
Because my great aunt was very close to the incident, my family and I are grateful that she and our other relatives were unaffected.
However, to those who had to endure the consequences of this tragedy, I feel sorry for them. Words cannot describe what they have gone through. It is a shame that many elderly residents have felt the consequences of substandard construction efforts. This disaster brings light to a long-criticized issue in Chinese and Hong Kong construction: cutting costs and negligent oversight. This is sometimes referred to as “tofu-dreg” construction.
This negligence of taking shortcuts is ultimately the factor leading to substandard and non-fire-resistant safety mesh being used for the renovation. This, in turn, allowed the home of 4000 residents to become a glowing oven in 40 hours. “Tofu dreg,” which was coined by Former Chinese Premier Zhu Rongji, refers to buildings or infrastructure produced with substandard materials, rushed timelines, or improper planning. While Hong Kong historically has had stricter standards, the fire raises questions about the quality of safety when such renovations are done.
Authorities associated with the renovation project, including those in charge of materials and overseeing the safety compliance, have since been arrested. Early investigations into the companies in charge of the renovation suggest there were prior warnings regarding the flammability of certain materials, raising concerns about whether or not safety protocols were followed or enforced.
Watching from afar, I worry for my extended family in Hong Kong and Mainland China. They, like millions of civilians, live in buildings whose safety depends on the diligence and integrity of contractors, inspectors, and policymakers.
The deadly consequences of the Tai-Po towers were far from the first of these “tofu-dreg” incidents. On November 11, 2025, the HongQi Bridge in the Sichuan Province of China collapsed only ten months after construction. Thankfully, the bridge was closed prior to its collapse, and no one was hurt. Watching from afar, I worry for my extended family in Hong Kong and Mainland China. They, like millions of civilians, live in buildings whose safety depends on the diligence and integrity of contractors, inspectors, and policymakers.
When I called my aunt, she noted how ubiquitous negligence was, specifically smoking at construction sites.
“There’s a building next to our home. There is some reconstruction going on, and every day I walk by the workers, they are smoking when they are having a break. Each of them is smoking! So that might be the cause of the fire,” Aunt Grace said.
With Aunt Grace living in the shadow of the possible perpetrator of the fire, I realize I am lucky to live in a world where neither I, nor my Aunt Grace, have felt the effects of tofu-dreg or any similar catastrophes. But luck is not a survival strategy.
While I am privileged to be safe, safety should not be a privilege: it should be a right for everyone.
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