It is a peaceful, almost silent place where a few birds sing and the wind moves the needles of cypress and pine. Snow slides from branches, drifting to the ground as the icy breeze fills the space with a cold, quiet song.
Hundreds of people rest there, many of them staying for days, some for years, others only briefly. The Friday silence marks a noticeable change after days of crowded shelter and constant movement. Hüseyin, a resident of the Şekeroba district in Kahramanmaraş, recalls the earthquake that struck early Monday morning and left a city searching for calm in a sea of disruption. The epicenter lay nearby, and the aftermath stretched far beyond a single neighborhood.
Around the man lies a cemetery whose scale exceeds expectations. Ancient tombs sit next to hastily prepared graves, the ground and the names bearing witness to a rush that spared little time for introductions. Şekeroba, a town of about 11,000 people, suffered more than 800 deaths in a single week. The scene speaks of urgency and loss, where bodies arrive as others are laid to rest with scarce ceremony. There is no time to explain who lies where; more names keep coming. Hüseyin describes the toll with a quiet gravity that underscores the severity of the events.
Families, doing what they can, visit the cemetery and manage burials as best they can. There is no formal service in such moments. A prosecutor visited the town a few days ago, recording names as told by residents and moving on. That night, two funerals took place, one with three deceased, a mother and her two children found together, their bodies in a final embrace, a strong odor lingering in the air.
Cities and towns
In southeastern Turkey, order has frayed in the wake of the disaster. The combined death toll for Turkey and Syria climbs toward twenty-two thousand three hundred, yet each region bears its own burden shaped by terrain and tectonic forces. In places the response varied, too. Quick arrival of Turkish and international aid was matched by the pressing need to deliver food, water, and shelter to those most trapped or vulnerable in the rubble.
Affected villages lie nearly empty in the aftermath. Help arrived unevenly, and Aziz, a resident near Şekeroba in the Beyoğlu district of Kahramanmaraş, recalls the initial aid: food and medicines came late, and essential supplies remained scarce. Electricity, sanitation, and hygiene products were not enough. The lack of toilets and clean water posed risks of illness if relief did not reach quickly enough.
Aziz notes that rescuers did not always reach everyone. Some people were pulled from debris by neighbors, while official teams were slower or absent in many places. The harsh reality is that many residents had to respond with their own hands, and the weight of loss fell on neighbors who understood what it meant to lose homes and neighbors at once. The scale of destruction makes it difficult to grasp the full scope, yet the effort and courage of those who acted remain evident in every yard and street they walk.
Shops, shops, shops
Şekeroba stands now as a neighborhood in ruins, a land of shattered roofs and rooms spilled into the streets. Chickens and cattle roam among the rubble as makeshift fires glow in the night. Small stores are scarce, and the need for supplies is urgent. Residents repeatedly ask for more essentials, especially food, yet the supply lines struggle to keep up. A volunteer in a truck with donuts and pasta speaks frankly about the demand and the gaps that remain in relief and commerce.
From a distance, Halil, a local farmer and family man, watches the scene. His home survived the quake, though its walls lean and threaten collapse with even a light push. Halil and his wife managed to return to the house on Monday after the quake and began building a temporary shelter from plastics, fabrics, and ropes. They have slept in that improvised space ever since, carrying on with what little they can salvage. Their resolve is tempered by heartbreak as a night in the ruined house brought the memory of a child, a mother, and a father who did not survive, all found in the same wreckage.
Halil emphasizes a practical truth: the immediate need for basic provisions and a place to rest. Yet even with the arrival of aid and some supplies, the overall needs remain vast. The couple points to the ongoing challenge of securing reliable shelter, medical care, and safe living conditions while rebuilding their lives in the wake of such devastation. The community grasps at resilience amid loss, finding ways to persevere through the days that follow the disaster, one difficult step at a time.