The same heart-twisting message flashes up each time: call failed. Malakai Fekitoa tries calling two different contacts — his mother and one of his six brothers — but there is not even a dial tone.
No answers. No assurances that his family, who live thousands of miles away in a small Tongan village, are safe and well. Just the sound of silence that sends a chill down the spine.
Tucked away in the Pacific Ocean, the small cluster of islands have been cut off from the outside world since last weekend. An undersea volcano triggered the biggest tsunami for decades and the impact on families is difficult to fathom. The telecommunications cable that runs beneath the ocean bed was destroyed and Fekitoa has not heard from his family since.
Malakai Fekitoa is still waiting to hear from his family following the recent tsunami in Tonga
‘The last time I spoke to my mum was the Monday before the volcano erupted,’ he says. ‘She was with my brother and my nephews, making Ta’ovala mats (traditional dress) for them to take into school. She was in a hurry because the school said you can’t buy them from the shops any more, so they had to make them the traditional way.
‘Two or three days later, I called to give the fees for the kids’ school but there was no answer. That’s normal on my island. Sometimes you don’t have credit and the calls just don’t connect. I didn’t think anything of it, but then I saw the news of the volcano last Saturday.
‘There was no warning. I was shocked. All of the communications were down. On Thursday, one of the phone companies managed to get a network for some overseas calls but I’ve tried and had no luck with my mum and brothers. Most of my family are on one of the smaller islands, Ha’apai, so it’s going to take longer to get the network back there.
‘I’ve read the news and I think they’re OK because there hasn’t been any mention of my village being hit. I’m sure they’re all good. The time difference makes things more difficult. Every time I get the chance, I try to call them. After breakfast, after meetings, before training, after training, just before you arrived here. Nothing.
‘Every day I’ve been trying to reach out. I managed to get through to my sister on the main island on Friday night. She is OK so that was a big relief, but she has not heard from our mum or brothers either.
Fekitoa has heard from his sister, but is still waiting to speak to his mother and brothers
‘She spoke about the massive shock and described how a lot of houses around the edge of the island have gone. I asked about the situation with the aid and she said it is slow because they are going to the other islands first.
‘It was just good to hear her voice. Happiness. Not knowing was the hardest part. Everyone around the world this week is praying for Tonga.’
Fekitoa has been scrolling through news articles from around the world in search of answers. The images filtering through are deeply disturbing. Islands have been wiped out, villages have been left covered in ash and warnings issued about toxic sulphur. There has been some reassurance of late, with foreign aid arriving and survivors sharing their stories, but Fekitoa can only sit and wait.
‘The worst will be a month from now. This week there are a lot of supplies coming. A big, big ship from Australia. Money from Japan, New Zealand. I’ve lived there during a
