advertisement
25 April, 2015 was not a usual Saturday for my mother and me, we both woke up early, she performed her morning prayers, we had our breakfast and both of us then headed towards the southern part of the valley to book an apartment in the newly constructed 14-storey Kathmandu skyscraper.
At 11:56 am, the earth beneath us shook violently, the windows of the apartment rattled and it took a few seconds before we realised what was actually happening. The 7.8 magnitude earthquake shook the entire country that Saturday morning. The shaking became unreal as it continued for a long time. Everyone was screaming and running out of their homes, not knowing where to go. My mother and I struggled to get out of the room, holding each other’s hands but we tripped and fell, making it impossible for us to get back up and move out.
The tiles on the floor began breaking and the walls started cracking. The skyscraper was irreparably damaged, posing a huge safety risk for its residents and those in the surrounding area. All we could think about at that particular moment was that we were about to face a horrific death. I had never been so scared.
Our hearts raced as we looked across and saw mud homes topple like a house of cards. Our ancient temples of historical importance were now a picture of rubble. The streets were flooded with people, not knowing what to do and where to go. Electricity was cut off, mobile network was disrupted and even though we could go inside our houses, we chose to stay out in the open inside our tents at home.
Hundreds
of aftershocks followed, and the second earthquake of 6.9 magnitude hit Nepal
on the 12th of May, which caused further damage. Kathmandu had suddenly turned
into a ghost town.
Kantipur Television infrastructure was damaged, and we could not operate from the building, but our transmission had to continue, so we moved to the streets. Our office was suddenly transformed into make shift tents, we did LIVE coverage from the streets for a month. Sometimes the weather did not favour us, our tents were brought down by rains several times, but we continued.
Later we moved to a different location and started working under corrugated tin shed. This continued for almost a period of 3 months. We moved back to our office premises after 3 months and started functioning from our canteen in the ground floor. Well, that was one year ago.
A year later, life in Kathmandu valley slowly crawled back to normalcy. Business houses reopened, roads have been cleared and traffic has been unbearable which has led to a thick blanket of smog but most of the rubble remains and the earthquake-ravaged infrastructure has not risen from dust. The post-quake reconstruction work to rebuild Nepal is finally kicking off.
The aftermath of the devastating
earthquakes are felt by people in the villages who are still living under makeshift
tents, unable to rebuild their houses due to weak financial conditions and the
government’s delay in providing them with the promised relief amount. It’s
always the poor who suffer the most.
For the
past year, everyone in Nepal –including myself – lived in fear. Our
‘earthquake go bag’ is ready, just in case another calamity strikes us again.
Sometimes I feel that the ground is shaking, even when it’s not. Even if we try
our best to prepare ourselves mentally, what do we do if another earthquake
strikes? Because it’s not the earthquake that kills, it’s the poorly
constructed infrastructure which had weak bones and could not withstand the
force of the earthquake, and killed thousands of people under the rubble. The memories of the earthquake will forever be embedded in the hearts of all
those who went through it.
(The writer is a journalist at Kantipur Television in Nepal)
Also read:
Feeling More Earthquakes Nowadays? Scientists Say No Need to Worry
(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)