In the steep, battered mountains of eastern Afghanistan, silence often falls heavy—punctuated only by the distant sound of shovels striking rock or the quiet weeping of a mother cradling the only photo left of her children.
This week, two powerful earthquakes tore through the provinces of Kunar and Nangarhar, reducing thousands of homes to rubble and leaving families with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The death toll has now exceeded 1,457 lives lost, and over 3,400 people injured, according to the Taliban administration. With many still trapped under debris, the numbers are feared to climb even higher.
“I have nothing left. My children are gone, my home is gone,” said Aalem Jan, standing on what used to be his house in Kunar. “All we have now is the sky above and the earth beneath.”
On Sunday, the first tremor—a 6.0-magnitude quake—shattered lives and livelihoods, followed by a 5.5-magnitude aftershock on Tuesday, which triggered landslides and blocked access to remote villages. Rescue workers are still racing against time, often digging with their bare hands or improvised tools.
Aid is trickling in—too little, too slowly. Helicopters have dropped commando teams into hard-to-reach areas, while battered trucks loaded with flour, medicines, and volunteers brave treacherous mountain roads. But even these efforts face logistical nightmares and weather challenges.
The International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) estimates that up to 84,000 people are affected, with many having lost everything—homes, family, and a sense of safety.
The situation is made worse by dwindling international funding. Afghanistan, already devastated by decades of war, political instability, and economic collapse, is now facing a humanitarian cliff. Donor fatigue, international sanctions, and policy disagreements with the Taliban have severely limited the inflow of aid.
The World Food Programme warns its resources may only last four more weeks. The World Health Organization reports a critical $3 million funding gap, threatening the supply of essential trauma kits and medicine.
“Afghans are not just numbers in a report. They are parents, children, teachers, farmers, and dreamers,” said Jacopo Caridi of the Norwegian Refugee Council. “If we fail to act now, we’re not just abandoning them in a crisis—we’re robbing them of a future.”
With families sleeping under open skies and burying their loved ones with their own hands, the urgency is not just to provide emergency relief—but to reignite hope.
