Palu Aftershock: A Chaotic Dance Between Destruction and Desperation
Deadly Toll
More than 1,200 souls lost in the 7.4‑magnitude quake and its deadly tsunami that hit Sulawesi, Indonesia. The official count is 1,234, but the UN predicts it will climb as rescuers reach hidden corners.
Survivors, Survivors, Survivors
- 200,000 people urgently need help — thousands of kids included.
- Survivors are scrambling for water, food, and even petrol, which has set up makeshift queues that way up to 24 hours.
- Many are turning to closed shops for supplies; a few thousand have been arrested for taking computers and cash.
Police Crackdown
Deputy national police chief Ari Dono Sukmanto said, “On the first and second day, people were starving. We didn’t enforce the law.” But after supplies began arriving, the authorities stepped up their enforcement, openly saying that “ATMs are open. If people steal, we catch and investigate.” Officers fired warning shots and tear gas to keep ransacking off the streets.
Queues that Stretched for a Day
In Palu’s rubble‑filled streets, desperate souls lined up near power strips and petrol convoys. Even Mr. Burhanuddin Aid Masse voiced frustration: “The government and the president have come here, but what we really need is food and water.”
Rescue Struggles
Rescue teams face a hostile landscape: no heavy machinery, broken roads, and enormous debris. The Indonesian military, with help from NGOs, is trekking through mud for up to 1.5 hours just to bring a single body back to an ambulance.
The Buried Church
At the Jonooge Church Training Centre, 34 bodies were recovered, with 86 students initially missing. The environment that trapped them was no less alarming, with mud, collapsed roofs, and the ever‑present risk of disease from decomposing corpses.
Small Glimmers of Hope
- A couple of survivors were rescued from the 80‑room Hotel Roa‑Roa.
- Mr. Azwan, after 48 hours of frantic searching, finally reunited with his wife Dewi — a joyous moment punctuated by tears.
The Broader Picture
Beyond Palu, cities like Donggala wrestled with their own hardships, pleading that aid shouldn’t be singularly focused on Palu. Even a distant island, Sumba, experienced a series of tremors, reminding us all that Indonesia’s seismic habit isn’t a thing of the past.
In a society where the majority is Muslim, diverse religious pockets such as the small Christian community were shaken, with churches turned into graveyards. Consistently, volunteers have been busy filling massive graves and coordinating burial efforts.
One Last Note
Even amid the tragic aftermath, communities bond over shared resilience, gathering, laughing, and, occasionally, humor to groove through the gloom and keep humanity alive. The story of Palu is not just one of loss—it’s a testament to endurance in the face of the impossible.
