Looking at the weather map on his computer in late November 2025, climatologist Fredolin Tangang couldn’t help but recall the apocalyptic scenes from “The Day After Tomorrow.” It wasn’t just one storm—there were three tropical storms forming simultaneously across Asia, each swirling in places rarely touched by such weather. For Tangang, an emeritus professor at the National University of Malaysia, it was a chilling sight. “You realize this is like a monster,” he told CNN, reflecting on the scale and strangeness of what he was witnessing.
Though not the strongest storms of the year, these weather systems were “unusual,” Tangang emphasized. One was churning near the equator off Indonesia—a region typically too close to the equator for cyclones, given the planet’s weak spin there. Another was bearing down on parts of Sri Lanka almost never hit by tropical storms. The third arrived late in the season, threatening to dump even more rain on the already saturated soils of Vietnam and the Philippines.
The impact was devastating. According to disaster agencies and a CNN tally, these storms unleashed torrential rains and catastrophic flooding across South and Southeast Asia, killing more than 1,700 people. Hundreds remain missing, likely swept away by violent torrents or buried beneath mud and debris. The region is no stranger to monsoon rains or flooding, but the sheer scale of destruction and loss of life left many reeling. “This is a human tragedy. It’s multiple conditions happening at the same time, and that makes it rather unprecedented,” Tangang said.
Scientists described the deluges as “relentless,” “rare,” and “record-breaking.” The disaster was fueled by a rare combination of overlapping weather systems, all amplified by the ongoing climate crisis. One example: Tropical Storm Senyar formed just north of the equator in the Strait of Malacca, between Indonesia’s Sumatra and Malaysia—a near-impossible location for cyclones. Senyar’s bizarre U-turn, moving south and east instead of the more typical west and north, only added to the confusion and devastation, as communities there were unprepared for such storms.
Meanwhile, Cyclone Ditwah crept along Sri Lanka’s east and north coasts, dumping massive bands of rain onto low-lying coastline and the central hill country—areas with little experience handling tropical storms. Typhoon Koto’s rains triggered flooding and landslides in the Philippines, already reeling from back-to-back deadly typhoons, before it barreled toward a waterlogged Vietnam. A cold surge in the preceding weeks had already sent strong winds from the north across the South China Sea, gathering moisture and unleashing it as rain over Thailand and Malaysia.
By early November, the region had already been pummeled by Typhoons Fung-wong and Kalmaegi. Fung-wong’s footprint stretched across nearly the entire Philippines, and Kalmaegi, one of the strongest typhoons to hit Vietnam in years, killed at least 200 people. Central Vietnam, still recovering from widespread flooding and landslides that killed at least 90, saw a meteorological station record a national 24-hour rainfall record of 1,739 millimeters. “That’s really, really enormous. It’s the second-highest known total anywhere in the world for 24-hour rainfall,” said Clare Nullis, spokesperson for the World Meteorological Organization, at a Geneva briefing.
With land already saturated, the arrival of Koto, Senyar, and Ditwah was catastrophic. “Once the surface was soaked, additional rain quickly turned into severe flooding,” explained Joseph Basconcillo, a senior weather specialist at the Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration. The combination of unusual storm tracks and vulnerable landscapes made the impacts far more extreme. Surging flash floods and landslides quickly overwhelmed communities, catching many off guard. “The combination of unusual storm tracks and vulnerable landscapes made the impacts far more extreme,” Basconcillo said.
Compounding the disaster, two natural climate phenomena—La Niña and a negative Indian Ocean Dipole—were active at the same time, both of which typically bring above-average rainfall. While these factors alone couldn’t explain the disaster, they “created a background environment that made intense rainfall more likely,” Basconcillo noted. “The worst impacts occurred when this moisture aligned with strong storms and vulnerable terrain.”
The human stories behind the numbers are harrowing. In Hat Yai, Thailand’s southern Songkhla province, floodwaters surged as high as eight feet, with resident Wassana Suthi describing the scene as “like a tsunami.” In Sumatra, Indonesia—the worst-hit country, with at least 883 deaths—rescue teams struggled to reach villages cut off by washed-out roads and collapsed bridges. Abdul Ghani, a resident of Palembayan town, spent days searching for his missing wife. “I hope they find her body, even if it’s just a piece of her hand,” he told Reuters.
In Sri Lanka, the destruction was just as sudden. “We could only hear a sound like thunder,” Nawaz Nashra of Alawathugoda village in Kandy recounted to Reuters. “The house next to ours collapsed as we watched. There was no time to warn anyone.”
Communities across the Philippines faced their own trials. On December 3, 2025, Super Typhoon Uwan (international name Fung-Wong) caused widespread destruction in Aurora province, damaging nearly 4,000 homes. In Sitio Dipontian, Barangay Cozo, more than 1,100 houses and school facilities were destroyed, leaving the Indigenous Agta Tribe particularly vulnerable. Responding to the crisis, employees of the Clark International Airport Corp. (CIAC) traveled to Casiguran, Aurora, to deliver much-needed aid as part of the “Bayanihan sa Casiguran” initiative. The outreach provided construction materials—paint, fiber cement boards, corrugated roof sheets, cement, gloves, paint brushes and rollers, hand saws, and claw hammers—along with 50 bags of rice, thanks to contributions from the CIAC Provident Fund Inc. and CIAC Employees’ Association Inc. Support from the Aurora Pacific Economic Zone and Freeport (Apeco) ensured the aid reached those who needed it most, with supplies handed over through Agta tribal leaders and Apeco community relations officer Luzed Anne Jandoc.
Underlying the disaster’s severity are deeper, long-standing challenges. Environmental degradation, especially rampant deforestation due to illegal logging, mining, and palm oil plantations in Sumatra, has left hillsides vulnerable to flooding and landslides. In the Philippines, public anger has mounted over corruption in flood control projects. Sri Lanka, still reeling from its worst financial crisis in seven decades, has struggled to fund infrastructure and public health, according to the World Bank.
At the COP30 summit in Brazil last month, world leaders called for tripling funds to help countries adapt to intensifying climate impacts. Yet, they failed to agree on a clear roadmap for phasing out fossil fuels, nor did they make explicit commitments on deforestation or new funding pledges. “The science is really clear, things are getting worse,” said Tangang. “It’s time for the world, for governments to be serious in not only in fixing the climate but to ensure that their own backyard is ready to face the impacts of climate change.”
This relentless cycle of storms and disasters isn’t just a pattern—it’s becoming reality for millions. As December brings more rain forecasts for Sumatra and Sri Lanka, and another storm brews east of the Philippines, the region faces a stark choice: adapt, or face mounting tragedy. For now, families and communities continue to pick up the pieces, hoping for relief and a future less defined by catastrophe.
