On Shaky Ground

Multiple crises intensify aid efforts in Syria

text by Arzé Khodr with photographs by Raghida Skaff

“Whatever words I may say would not be enough to describe that moment,” says Abir Ahmar Dakno about the 7.8-magnitude earthquake that hit southern Turkey and northern Syria in the early morning of 6 February.

It was 4:17 a.m., three hours before sunrise, and the earth trembled for 45 seconds. Enveloped within the rumbling of shifting earth and crumbling concrete, children could be heard crying and families praying.

Minutes after the shaking stopped, throngs of residents of Aleppo, Syria’s largest city closest to the epicenter, were on the darkened streets in a state of sheer panic, despite the cold winter rain. Many survivors reported feeling terrified and thinking they were going to die.

According to a report released in mid-March by the Blue Marists of Aleppo, a local Catholic organization, some 458 people died and more than 1,000 people were injured in the ancient city. At least 60 buildings collapsed, and hundreds more were irreparably damaged. In less than a minute, hundreds of thousands of people were homeless.

Overall, the 7.8-magnitude earthquake — centered 98 miles north of Aleppo in Gaziantep, Turkey — stands as the deadliest natural disaster of modern times in present-day Turkey and the largest earthquake to impact Syria in two centuries, killing more than 53,000 people and internally displacing about 6 million in both countries combined. About 8,000 quakerelated deaths were reported in Syria alone.

Aleppo is no stranger to mass destruction. During Syria’s 12-year civil war, the city was the site of intense fighting, from 2012 to 2016, which killed more than 31,000 people and destroyed 30 percent of the old city. Then, from one minute to the next on 6 February, life in Aleppo got exponentially worse. For the tens of thousands of survivors who lost family members, as well as their homes and businesses, their entire world collapsed that day.

Within hours of the quake, recovery efforts were underway as municipalities, aid organizations and community leaders organized emergency shelters in mosques, churches, schools, convents, parish halls and sports stadiums.

CNEWA-Pontifical Mission was among the church agencies to respond immediately, focusing relief efforts in Syria, providing shelter, food, medicine, blankets, clothing and other essentials for up to 3,000 people through its partners on the ground.

The situation remained tenuous for weeks, as hundreds of daily aftershocks — as well as larger quakes — kept locals on high alert. Nine hours after the initial earthquake, a second earthquake measuring 7.7 struck about 60 miles north of Gaziantep. Two weeks later, on 20 February, two more earthquakes shook the region — measuring magnitudes of 6.4 and 5.8 respectively.

At this point, the residents of Aleppo who had returned to their damaged homes thinking the situation had stabilized panicked and went back to the shelters, where some people stayed for almost 40 days.

Abir Ahmar Dakno heads the youth section of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul in Syria, which has been assisting Aleppines with their needs since the first quake hit.

“From Day 1, we realized the shelters were in need of everything,” she recalls. “Some were hosting 1,800 to 1,900 persons. Our work on the ground started immediately.

“Many women were in a state of shock and were not able to breastfeed anymore. We were in great need of baby formula or else we would face a disaster.”

Immediately, Mrs. Dakno and her colleagues contacted CNEWA’s Beirut office, whose “response was very prompt,” she says.

“They provided us with funds, and we were able to help many shelters with food, blankets, baby formula, medication. We provided diapers for babies and for the elderly.”

The Society of St. Vincent de Paul created a crisis management cell of 40 volunteers — the youngest member was 19 — who distributed items in multiple shelters and entertained children who were, and still are, in great need of emotional support, says Mrs. Dakno.

Hikmat Sanjian started volunteering in spite of himself, after accompanying his friend Mrs. Dakno to a shelter. An engineer and a professional dancer, Mr. Sanjian’s task was to distract the children while volunteers distributed food and supplies. He did so by inviting them to dance.

“Children don’t care about food,” he says. “Of course, all these items are important, but children want joy, they want to move, to laugh.”

He felt compelled to help, and his initial reluctance to volunteer gave way. In the days that followed, he visited the shelters daily, inviting the children to dance each time. He recalls a girl named Fatima, whose legs were amputated due to a war