Everything's faded now. The colours of daily life in this village no longer vibrant, like a water-stained old photograph.
Almost a ghost town.
Apart from the drizzle, this is what first hit us as we arrived with the sun slowly setting on this remote village in the landlocked territory of Kuala Krai, in the deep heart of Kelantan.
Soon after, we heard the call for Maghrib prayer. Then slowly, one by one, they descended upon the mosque in the center of the village. Some walked, some rode on motorcycles. Each a solitary figure.
For a village of it's size, it was suprising that there were not more of them. About 30 men in total, and a handful of women. Just enough to form three lonely rows as they assembled for communal prayer.
Some began filing home soon after performing their obligations, though many settled in to their favourite perches, waiting for the call for Isyak.
"Folks here used to be very neighbourly. All of us would visit each others' homes to recite the Surah Yassin, and there was always more of us performing communal prayers together," said one of the villagers.
It seems the whole village used to be one big happy family, both young and old, intermingling, cheerfully carrying out their daily activities.
But the deadly floods during the year end monsoon season of 2014 changed all that.
These days, they mostly stay indoors. And there's not much laughter, very much unlike before.
Folks here prefer to keep to themselves, carrying out their daily life in silos. A brief hello when they do cross paths, though nothing like the leisurely chats which used to keep the whole village abuzz.
"Only about 30 houses were spared. From over 400. Imagine that," said an elderly gentleman, who introduced himself as Mustafa Husain.
Mustafa was among the earliest residents of Kampung Kemubu. He was raised and schooled here, and has lived his entire life in this quaint village, on the banks of the meandering Galas River.
He is one of the imams of the Kemubu Mosque. There are two imams in the village, the elder imam and the junior imam. Mustafa was appointed the junior prayer leader in 2008.
"Not so much a ‘junior' anymore I'm afraid, as I am already 68," he gently ribbed, as gentlemen in their twilight years are often fond of doing
Mustafa said the last devastating flood the village had seen in living memory was in 1967.
"At that time, no one was really scared because the waters rose slowly. We were out on our boats and the young ones had a grand old time. The flood last year though, no one had ever seen anything like it," he told us.
Stray timbers carried by the violent currents ripped through all the homes located on the riverbanks. Only the foundation of the Kemubu train station now remains. And the village bridge was badly damaged. Segments of it's metal frame, weighing tons, washed a clear 30 meters away from where the bridge once stood.
As the raging water carved it's path of destruction, the villagers quickly ran for the top of a nearby hill on the outskirts of the village. All the roads were inundated so there was simply no where else for them to go. No sanctuary or refuge. The closest town located 17 kilometers away. And a limited number of small boats. Not enough for eveyone.
And for the next two weeks, that's exactly where they all remained. No shelter from the mid-day sun; huddled together, shivering through the cold, dark nights.
Then inevitably, the rain. Constantly making life for the villagers, cramped together in a small clearing among the large trees, even more unbearable.
"I reckon that's why. We're all a bit traumatized, even to this day," said Mustafa.
As a community leader and village elder, he feels the burden of responsibility to help get folks here back on their feet again, working together to start life anew for their community.
Mustafa is still thankful for all the aid that arrived after the deluge subsided, which helped folks here get through a very difficult period. More than just fulfilling basic neccessities, the assistance which arrived where their doorsteps once stood, reminded them that they were not alone.
Along with the aid, volunteers and relief agencies arrived to provide counselling and support. They did their best to try and pull the villagers out of their shock and despair, in the aftermath of the unimaginable devastation that had left many of them homeless.
"The aid workers and counsellors don't come here anymore though, so together with the other elders, we're trying to continue the good work they started.
"I am always reminding the people here in my sermon after prayers, to take account of themselves and to turn to Allah. We need to be aware of our own behaviour, and reflect on whether we are on the right path, or have we strayed.
"He would not burden a soul, beyond what it can bear," said Mustafa.
The Kelantan state government has instructed all mosques here to hold communal prayers of need, at least twice a week, to pray for protection against calamities. At the very least, the communal prayers would help draw closer, in both body and soul, those who were now distant.
However, Mustafa knows there is only so much that prayer can do. People still need to do everything they can to prevent, or at the very least avoid, future calamities.
"Allah does not change the condition of a people, until they change their own condition. Prayer must be supplemented by unwavering effort," he said.
No one could have imagined that the floods last year would be as bad as they were. To ensure their beloved neighbours and kin don't suffer a similar fate this time around, Mustafa and his friends have started planning ahead to prepare themselves for another inevitable encounter with fate.
They've decided to expand the clearing on top of the same hill were the sought refuge last year. This time, a proper shelter with lights and power will be built, using money donated to the village fund.
"We're getting a contractor to cut down the trees on the hill, so we have more space and can house everyone in comfort. We're calling them next week. We need to get this done soon.
"Last year, rescue personnel had a hard time helping us because there was not enough space on the hill. We barely had standing room for the villagers, so there was no way a helicopter could land up there. They ended up having to drop the aid from the air. We couldn't send anyone out to get additional assistance," he told us.
Mustafa is thankful for the lessons learned from the deluge last year. It was an eye-opener for everyone here, raising awareness on the importance of making preparations for anything that may come their way. He's hoping though, that lightning won't strike twice.
"There are those who say the next one will be twice as deadly. I really don't know. This is all part of His plan. We can only prepare, and do what we can. The rest, we leave to fate."
It seems the whole village used to be one big happy family, both young and old, intermingling, cheerfully carrying out their daily activities.
But the deadly floods during the year end monsoon season of 2014 changed all that.
These days, they mostly stay indoors. And there's not much laughter, very much unlike before.
Folks here prefer to keep to themselves, carrying out their daily life in silos. A brief hello when they do cross paths, though nothing like the leisurely chats which used to keep the whole village abuzz.
"Only about 30 houses were spared. From over 400. Imagine that," said an elderly gentleman, who introduced himself as Mustafa Husain.
Mustafa was among the earliest residents of Kampung Kemubu. He was raised and schooled here, and has lived his entire life in this quaint village, on the banks of the meandering Galas River.
He is one of the imams of the Kemubu Mosque. There are two imams in the village, the elder imam and the junior imam. Mustafa was appointed the junior prayer leader in 2008.
"Not so much a ‘junior' anymore I'm afraid, as I am already 68," he gently ribbed, as gentlemen in their twilight years are often fond of doing
Mustafa said the last devastating flood the village had seen in living memory was in 1967.
"At that time, no one was really scared because the waters rose slowly. We were out on our boats and the young ones had a grand old time. The flood last year though, no one had ever seen anything like it," he told us.
Stray timbers carried by the violent currents ripped through all the homes located on the riverbanks. Only the foundation of the Kemubu train station now remains. And the village bridge was badly damaged. Segments of it's metal frame, weighing tons, washed a clear 30 meters away from where the bridge once stood.
As the raging water carved it's path of destruction, the villagers quickly ran for the top of a nearby hill on the outskirts of the village. All the roads were inundated so there was simply no where else for them to go. No sanctuary or refuge. The closest town located 17 kilometers away. And a limited number of small boats. Not enough for eveyone.
And for the next two weeks, that's exactly where they all remained. No shelter from the mid-day sun; huddled together, shivering through the cold, dark nights.
Then inevitably, the rain. Constantly making life for the villagers, cramped together in a small clearing among the large trees, even more unbearable.
"I reckon that's why. We're all a bit traumatized, even to this day," said Mustafa.
As a community leader and village elder, he feels the burden of responsibility to help get folks here back on their feet again, working together to start life anew for their community.
Mustafa is still thankful for all the aid that arrived after the deluge subsided, which helped folks here get through a very difficult period. More than just fulfilling basic neccessities, the assistance which arrived where their doorsteps once stood, reminded them that they were not alone.
Along with the aid, volunteers and relief agencies arrived to provide counselling and support. They did their best to try and pull the villagers out of their shock and despair, in the aftermath of the unimaginable devastation that had left many of them homeless.
"The aid workers and counsellors don't come here anymore though, so together with the other elders, we're trying to continue the good work they started.
"I am always reminding the people here in my sermon after prayers, to take account of themselves and to turn to Allah. We need to be aware of our own behaviour, and reflect on whether we are on the right path, or have we strayed.
"He would not burden a soul, beyond what it can bear," said Mustafa.
The Kelantan state government has instructed all mosques here to hold communal prayers of need, at least twice a week, to pray for protection against calamities. At the very least, the communal prayers would help draw closer, in both body and soul, those who were now distant.
However, Mustafa knows there is only so much that prayer can do. People still need to do everything they can to prevent, or at the very least avoid, future calamities.
"Allah does not change the condition of a people, until they change their own condition. Prayer must be supplemented by unwavering effort," he said.
No one could have imagined that the floods last year would be as bad as they were. To ensure their beloved neighbours and kin don't suffer a similar fate this time around, Mustafa and his friends have started planning ahead to prepare themselves for another inevitable encounter with fate.
They've decided to expand the clearing on top of the same hill were the sought refuge last year. This time, a proper shelter with lights and power will be built, using money donated to the village fund.
"We're getting a contractor to cut down the trees on the hill, so we have more space and can house everyone in comfort. We're calling them next week. We need to get this done soon.
"Last year, rescue personnel had a hard time helping us because there was not enough space on the hill. We barely had standing room for the villagers, so there was no way a helicopter could land up there. They ended up having to drop the aid from the air. We couldn't send anyone out to get additional assistance," he told us.
Mustafa is thankful for the lessons learned from the deluge last year. It was an eye-opener for everyone here, raising awareness on the importance of making preparations for anything that may come their way. He's hoping though, that lightning won't strike twice.
"There are those who say the next one will be twice as deadly. I really don't know. This is all part of His plan. We can only prepare, and do what we can. The rest, we leave to fate."
As he said this, the clock in the mosque chimed, signaling the time for Isyak prayer.
Mustafa rose and took his place at the front of the congregation, to lead communal prayer of the villagers who had remained since Maghrib. From the three rows of worshippers earlier, two and a half rows remained.
After Isyak, a prayer of need was performed that night.
And as he prayed, Mustafa kept his eyes closed. Each word enunciated clearly and resolutely, as if hoping that collectively, their voices would be heard by the Almighty.
As the prayers ended, the villagers formed a line and shook each other's hand as they recited the salawat, blessings for the Prophet Muhammad.
The lights in the mosque now turned off, each made their way back home, one by one, solitary, just as they had arrived. The still of the night once again descended upon the village.
Mustafa rose and took his place at the front of the congregation, to lead communal prayer of the villagers who had remained since Maghrib. From the three rows of worshippers earlier, two and a half rows remained.
After Isyak, a prayer of need was performed that night.
And as he prayed, Mustafa kept his eyes closed. Each word enunciated clearly and resolutely, as if hoping that collectively, their voices would be heard by the Almighty.
As the prayers ended, the villagers formed a line and shook each other's hand as they recited the salawat, blessings for the Prophet Muhammad.
The lights in the mosque now turned off, each made their way back home, one by one, solitary, just as they had arrived. The still of the night once again descended upon the village.
