They’re called ‘wira merah’ – red heroes who answer when no one else can. On this International Firefighters’ Day, Datuk Nor Hisham Mohammad, reflects on duty, sacrifice, and what it truly means to be ‘Sedia Menyelamat’.
Sebuyau: The mission that defined a fire chief
EVERY May 4, the world pauses to honour firefighters – those who run toward danger when others run away.
But what does heroism actually look like, away from the flames – deep in the shadows where no fire burns, only silence, grief, and duty?
For Datuk Nor Hisham Mohammad, the answer came on a wide, murky stretch of river in Sarawak – unpredictable, silent, and swollen with mystery.
It wasn’t a fire he was racing against. It was the river’s tide. The pressure of time. The weight of a nation watching.
On May 5, 2016, a helicopter carrying then Plantation Industries and Commodities Deputy Minister, Datuk Noriah Kasnon, vanished without warning over Batang Lupar. The aircraft disappeared from radar without a distress call.
When the call came, Nor Hisham – then state Fire and Rescue Department director – was given only the barest details: a missing aircraft, lost somewhere in vast, unforgiving terrain.
What followed would become one of the country’s most high-profile and sensitive search-and-rescue missions.
When the river stopped speaking
“I rushed to the operations centre. The media was already waiting. The first step was to trace the helicopter’s flight path and try to reconstruct its last movements,” Nor Hisham recalled.
His team theorised that if the pilot had attempted an emergency landing or gone down, it would likely have been along the Lingga-Sebuyau corridor – possibly on or near the Batang Lupar River.
“Pilots often try to follow rivers to reduce impact in a crash. So that became our focus,” he added.
By 9:00 pm, findings were shared with other agencies. The Fire and Rescue Department’s elite Special Tactical Operations and Rescue Team of Malaysia (STORM) was mobilised. Three boats with 14 personnel departed at 1:00 am. The operation would be known as Ops SAR Sebuyau.
“It was a tall order. By 6:00 am, our boats had to begin river searches,” he said.
Just three hours later, a report came in: debris had been found. It was the break they needed. By noon, Noriah’s body was recovered. A forward operations base was set up in Sebuyau. From there, the grim work continued.
The challenges no one saw
The Batang Lupar River, wide and unpredictable, proved even more formidable than expected.
“We underestimated the scale. If the aircraft had gone down in marsh forest or plantation zones, it would have been nearly impossible to cover it all. And radar coverage was weak – blind spots made detection nearly useless,” Nor Hisham admitted.
Then came the emotional toll: the pressure of a national tragedy unfolding in real time, in full public view.
“Information control was critical. Only I and the assistant director of operations were allowed to release updates.
“Everyone wanted photos of the victims, reports before they were confirmed. It was a tough situation,” he explained.
Coordination between agencies – police, military, aviation, disaster units – added another layer of pressure.
“And yet, I believe we did well,” he reflected.
The Sebuyau operation was a stark reminder that firefighting is rarely about flames alone.
Today, most Malaysians recognise that the Fire and Rescue Department of Malaysia (JBPM) handles far more – from flood rescues to chemical spills and landslides. They are often the first on the scene – and the last to leave.
But missions like Sebuyau are different.
“People often underestimate the scope of our work. Still, I see this as a sign of trust. When people are unsure who to call, they turn to us. That says something,” said the 53-year-old Perak-born.
JBPM has a “no wrong policy” – meaning no call for help is ever dismissed, even if it’s minor or outside the typical scope. But it comes with its own challenges.
“Sometimes the public forgets the scale of what we do. That’s why we focus now on managing perceptions. It’s not just about doing the job – it’s about showing people who we are,” Nor Hisham stressed.
The Sarawak lessons
Today, as Director-General of JBPM, Nor Hisham still draws from his Sarawak experience.
“To be a firefighter in Sarawak is to be a bridge between modern emergency services and traditional, often isolated, communities – ready to act with resilience, compassion, and unwavering commitment,” he explained.
From peat fires and longhouses to petrochemical hazards and sprawling rivers, Sarawak is an ecosystem like no other. The demands placed on its firefighters are immense – but so is the pride.
“Being accepted by the local communities, meeting their expectations – that’s the real reward.
“And yes – I’m proud to have served in Sarawak,” he added.
That experience shaped the way Nor Hisham leads today.
He believes in always seeking out opportunities, setting ambitious goals, and delivering with the highest standards. While it’s impossible to monitor every officer, he maintains that instilling the right mindset across the force is what truly matters.
And one more lesson?
“Strong inter-agency cooperation – and state-level trust – is the best investment you can make,” he pointed out.
What the job really demands
So how do you prepare someone for this kind of work?
“We make it clear from day one – this is the reality. We’ve built a work ecosystem that encourages creativity, readiness, and healthy competition. That’s how we keep people sharp,” he said.
And he’s pushing for more. Under his leadership, JBPM is embracing AI tools and integrating special tactical units to modernise the force.
“AI will help us reduce routine tasks. More importantly, it’ll give the public what they want – certainty.
“They don’t want to hear, ‘We’re on the way’. They want to know exactly when we’ll arrive. That’s what we’re working towards,” he added.
But there are still gaps – especially in rural and East Malaysian contexts.
Nor Hisham emphasised the importance of sustaining physical fitness for firefighters expected to serve up to the age of 60. Equally crucial, he noted, is the need for long-range vehicles equipped to meet the unique demands of remote terrains and local emergencies.
What Malaysians should know
This International Firefighters’ Day, Nor Hisham isn’t asking for praise. What he hopes for is far simpler – and perhaps more powerful.
“Preventable fires. Unsafe renovations. Reckless open burning. These cost us dearly. And yet, they can be avoided. The responsibility isn’t just ours – it belongs to the whole community,” he said.
In decades of service, he’s seen the best and worst of humanity – chaos, heartbreak, quiet triumph. But through it all, one thing endures: the unwavering spirit of his men and women.
“They don’t do it for recognition. They do it because someone has to. Because a mother is trapped. A village is cut off. A life needs saving,” he said.
And sometimes, amid all the pressure, politics, and sacrifice – a simple gesture is enough.
“People forget this. But a sincere thank you from the community we serve – that alone can lift the weight. That alone makes it all feel worth it,” he ended our conversation.
Because sometimes, heroism doesn’t roar. Sometimes, it’s a boat pushing upriver in the dark – and a firefighter who won’t turn back.
