Thirty hours after the devastating earthquake, reporters from Xinhua arrived in Khulm district, the area that suffered the heaviest earthquake destruction in northern Samangan province, Afghanistan.
KHULM, Afghanistan, Nov. 7 (Xinhua) -- The earth shook with a violence they had never known. In the dead of night, as families slept in their mud-brick homes, a 6.3-magnitude earthquake ripped through northern Afghanistan early Monday, leaving a trail of devastation, shattered lives, and a desperate cry for help.
Thirty hours after the devastating earthquake, reporters from Xinhua arrived in Khulm district, the area that suffered the heaviest destruction in northern Samangan province. By then, official rescue operations had already been halted. Yet, local residents, driven by solidarity and resilience, continued clearing the debris side by side, working tirelessly to retrieve what little remained of their belongings from beneath the rubble.
Kamaluddin sat in his courtyard, gazing at the ruins of his houses. Beneath him are the few belongings he managed to claw from the rubble of his collapsed home. With nowhere to go and no roof left for shelter, his voice trembles as he recalls the moment everything was lost.
"At one o'clock in the night, the earthquake struck. Everyone was affected; their houses were destroyed," the horror-struck man told Xinhua. Once living a relatively peaceful life, Kamaluddin now finds himself homeless and hopeless. "All three of our living rooms have been ruined. We can't rebuild. Bricks are expensive, stones are expensive, and timber is expensive; we simply don't have the means."
His story is the story of hundreds in the district, the earthquake's epicenter. Here, where communities have long lived in mud houses without running water, gas, or electricity, the tremor was merciless.
Samaruddin, a 40-year-old resident of the Ishan Jan Raki area in the district, saw his home utterly demolished. As he collaborated with neighbors to salvage anything from beneath the debris, he spoke of a dire poverty that offers no path to recovery. His brother was badly injured, and his family of eight -- himself, his wife, and their six children -- is now crammed into a neighbor's dilapidated, damaged house.
"All five or six living rooms in this compound have been razed to the ground," Samaruddin told Xinhua at the site of his ruined house. "Not a single home remains intact." To rebuild a modest four-room house, he would need at least 1.2 million afghanis (over 18,000 U.S. dollars).
The scale of destruction is staggering. The spokesman of Afghanistan's National Disaster Management Authority confirmed 12 deaths and 329 injuries in Samangan province alone. Nationwide, the toll has risen to at least 25 dead and more than 970 injured.
In Aibak City, the provincial capital of Samangan province, the human cost is etched on the faces filling the public hospital. Faizullah, 65, brought his injured granddaughter and daughter for treatment. He recounted the tremor with profound dread.
"The earthquake was extraordinarily violent and terrifying. I have never experienced anything like it in my entire life," Faizullah told Xinhua inside the hospital. "Houses lie in ruins, walls toppled flat." While grateful for the attentive care from doctors, his frustration is palpable. The hospital, he said, is grappling with a shortage of essential medicines.
Mawluddin Samadi, a surgeon at the hospital, reported that they have admitted three bodies and over 260 injured individuals, predominantly women and children. "We provided essential trauma care to earthquake victims. Those requiring hospitalization were admitted, while ambulatory patients were treated and released," Samadi explained, emphasizing that all services and medications are being provided free of charge.
The devastation extends beyond homes. For local entrepreneurs, the quake has inflicted immense financial losses. Rahim Shah operated a shop along the highway linking the capital, Kabul, to Mazar-i-Sharif city, the provincial capital of northern Balkh province, his sole means of sustaining his family. The tremor demolished the establishment, obliterating all his merchandise.
"I had invested between 80,000 to 100,000 afghanis (about 1,200 to 1,500 dollars) in it. The entire shop collapsed; my goods are irretrievably lost," he said, choking back emotion as he labored to clear the debris.
The cultural toll is equally severe. The famous Blue Mosque in Mazar-i-Sharif, a 12th-century religious and cultural landmark, was damaged, with parts of its structure peeling off.
This disaster is a grim reminder of Afghanistan's acute vulnerability to natural disasters. The country has endured a series of devastating quakes in recent years, from eastern Paktika in 2022 to western Herat in 2023, and a catastrophic tremor in eastern Kunar just months ago that killed over 2,200 people and injured more than 3,500 individuals.
Now, the north lies broken. Deputy Prime Minister for Economic Affairs Mullah Abdul Ghani Baradar, during his trip to Samangan province, has called on well-off Afghans, businessmen, and international charity organizations to step forward in this critical stage and help affected families.
But for those sitting atop the rubble of their lives, the plea is more immediate, more visceral. With every door feeling closed to him, Kamaluddin sees no option but to wait.
For him and hundreds like him, the night of terror has given way to an uncertain dawn, where the future is built not with bricks, but with the hope of a helping hand.■
