Kuala Lampur, March 9 -- It was an ordinary night, the kind where airport announcements blended into the hum of travellers, where goodbyes were hurried and hopeful. Then, just like that, Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370 vanished. A plane full of souls, gone without a trace. What followed was the kind of heartbreak that doesn't just belong to families but to an entire country.

I was at KLIA shortly after the disappearance, camera in hand, documenting history as it unfolded. You could feel it in the air - the eerie silence that replaced the usual airport bustle. Grief, confusion, and hope clashed like storm clouds. Volunteers handed out water bottles with trembling hands. Strangers became pillars for one another. Journalists hunched over the...