Reach the areas most affected by the Sichuan earthquake of 2008 in China, a magnitude 7.9 disaster that left nearly 90,000 people dead or missing. It was a brutal, slow march through rubble, where heavy machinery struggled to clear the mountains of debris that once housed families and schools. In places near the epicenter, the first sounds of rescue came from the metallic chant of iron bars and the dry rasp of tools as locals waited for diggers to move the stones sealing their loved ones away. When a heartbeat or a voice was felt beneath the rubble, volunteers and rescuers would converge at that spot and begin the painstaking work. In those initial days, small miracles appeared: adults, children, and the elderly pulled from the dust within 24, 48, or 72 hours, faces smeared with gray dust, gasping for breath as they found air and life again. The lesson was clear—rapid mobilization of emergency teams and swift international aid can save lives in those critical hours.
In the wake of the Kahramanmaraş earthquake that struck the southern Turkey and northern Syria region, measured at 7.4 on the Richter scale, the imagery from the scene bore a stark kinship with Sichuan. Three- to four-story buildings collapsed, and some structures withstood the quake in surprising ways. Dozens of people remained trapped under the rubble, unsure of the next move, awaiting rescue.
Early reports on May 12, 2008, suggested only a few hundred deaths. The tremor traveled far enough to be felt in Beijing, roughly 2,000 kilometers away, hinting at a disaster of vast scale. As the day ended, the official death toll climbed toward nine thousand. The final government tally in Sichuan would rise to about 70,000 dead and 19,000 missing, with around 400,000 injured. Among the injured were more than 5,000 children. The tremors struck during school hours, and many tofu-nail schools—built with questionable materials and materials prone to collapse—fell in rapid succession.
The Sichuan earthquake ranked as the third deadliest of this century, following the 2004 Sumatra event and the 2010 Haiti quake. The Kahramanmaraş quake in Turkey hit a far less populated area than Sichuan, and the city of Kahramanmaraş itself houses roughly a million residents. In Sichuan, the affected region included up to five million residents. In such disasters, population density and housing type significantly influence the death toll. While the immediate impact in Turkey might appear lower, precise figures would become clear only after days of assessment. The coming hours would be pivotal in understanding the full scale of damage.
The tasks following a major earthquake are vast and relentless: rescue operations, securing water and food, providing shelter for the displaced, and handling the deceased with dignity. In the most affected zones, the aftermath can produce a stubborn smell of decay as rescue teams navigate challenging terrain, damaged roads, and mountainous paths that hamper access. Emergency responders often arrive later in the day, and delays in foothills or poorly maintained routes can slow relief efforts considerably.
Beyond the immediate crisis, earthquakes rarely end with the first tremor. Aftershocks continue to ripple through communities, sustaining a state of heightened stress and uncertainty for residents and responders alike. The ongoing tremors test the resilience of institutions, families, and local emergency networks as they work to restore safety and stability.
The deadliest earthquakes of this century
2004 – Sumatra (Indonesia) – magnitude 9.1 – Approximately 230,000 deaths
2010 – Port-au-Prince (Haiti) – magnitude 7.0 – 160,000 deaths
2008 – Sichuan (China) – magnitude 7.9 – ~90,000 deaths
2005 – Kashmir (Pakistan, India and Afghanistan) – magnitude 7.6 – ~86,000 deaths
2003 – Bam (Iran) – magnitude 6.5 – ~30,000 deaths
2001 – Gujarat (India) – magnitude 7.7 – ~24,000 deaths