Two young women from Morocco talk about their lives today, one year after the earthquake
Hassna Hicham and Hassna Raouane, both survivors of last September’s earthquake, share their memories with Humanity & Inclusion and talk about life in their community since the disaster.
August 2024, High Atlas region. Reception of the beneficiaries by the Migrations & Développement team, HI's partner. | © K. Erjati / HI
On the night of 8 to 9 September 2023, an earthquake of 6.8 magnitude struck Morocco. Its epicentre was in the High Atlas Mountains. As there are few physical or mental health services available in this hard-to-reach region, HI has been assisting the survivors of the earthquake since the end of 2023 through the organisation of mobile care units. These units travel around the regions affected by the earthquake providing support to the population and running listening and sharing sessions where people can tell their stories. Hassna Hicham, 29, and Hassna Raouane, 23, both had their lives turned upside down by the earthquake.
One night and several days of desolation before help arrived.
Hassna Hicham in Aguerd and Hassna Raouane in Tajgalt both describe the night of the earthquake as extremely traumatic. Their families were in bed when their sleep was suddenly interrupted by a deafening noise, followed by complete darkness. The electricity was down and the air was filled with dust. Then the sound of the earth shaking and walls collapsing was replaced by the sound of cries and screams in the night.
‘It was a huge shock, I was completely lost. It was as if time had stopped still. Suddenly we’d lost everything we had, it was all gone’, says Hassna R.
Hassna Hicham, who lived in a house with all the generations of her family, explains that at first she thought it was war, that only their house had been destroyed. It was only when her grandmother went out to call for help and the rest of her family followed her that they realised it was an earthquake. She recounts:
‘It was unimaginable, I wouldn't wish that night on anyone. We were all at home. The whole family was just about to fall asleep when everything collapsed on top of us. I pulled my daughter out from under the earth; she had a broken arm and leg, and so had my son. We were all injured and we could barely walk. We were choking on the dust in the pitch black. We could hear the screams but we couldn't see where they were coming from to go and help.’
Fortunately, there were few deaths in Hassna H.'s douar, but in the surrounding area, in other villages, the losses were considerable. The young woman tells us that in a neighbouring douar, her cousins and their children were all swept away: an entire household perished in the disaster.
In the days that followed, the distress was immense. The region hit by the earthquake is difficult to access in normal circumstances but after the disaster, the few existing roads were blocked or destroyed. Hassna Hicham recounts that in her village, military aid took three days to arrive. For three days, no one had any electricity, water or food. The survivors sat in shock with nothing around them but the remains of their homes and the bodies of their dead.
‘The next day, we could see the dead being pulled from the rubble. Although my parents and family survived, we lost neighbours who were like brothers and sisters to us. It was horrible,’ says Hassna Raouane.
In addition to the extremely difficult living conditions, Hassna Hicham explains that a kind of violence reigned:
‘We slept outside on the ground, with no shelter. We were afraid of stray dogs and even attacks from other people who might take advantage of the situation or rape us. We sleep better now that we're in tents. At least it's a closed space’.
The difficulty of rebuilding, individually and collectively
The two young women experienced that night differently, but the trauma has left a similar mark on them. They describe being more anxious than before and say that, although they are improving, they will never be the same again.
‘I have no patience anymore. I feel it a lot with my son. Whenever I ask him to do something and he doesn't listen to me, I lose it. It's hard to move on. We can still feel the earth shaking. It happened again, just three days ago,’ explains Hassna Hicham.
Hassna R. explains that a disaster of this kind naturally has an impact on a person’s state of mind and the way one looks at the world. She knows that ‘death can claim us at any time’ and is constantly hyper vigilant. Whenever she hears a noise, or something suddenly moves, she is afraid and thinks back to the night of 8 to 9 September. For this student in the field of health and education:
‘As long as the douar remains in this state, the memory of that night will never leave us. We relive the scenario endlessly. Even when we get together with neighbours or family, all the conversations revolve around the earthquake. It's always the same subject. We talk about the people who died, the void they have left in our lives. More than 40 people died here, young children, women... I've lost my classmates and friends, we were going to continue our studies together but they were taken from me before we could...’.
Listening spaces to support the survivors
Since the end of 2023, every mobile unit intervention organised by HI and its Moroccan partners1 has included mental health and psychosocial support sessions for earthquake survivors. These activities involve setting up individual or group discussion sessions to share experiences and find comfort. For Hassna Hicham, these activities and those of other associations are very important. Being able to exchange with others brings greater peace to communities:
‘We think that just the fact that they've come this far to see us is already a great thing. The fact that they've come to support us in this heat, despite so many obstacles, is a very generous gesture. We say to ourselves ‘these poor people have come so far to help us’.
Hassna Raouane, too, says that the discussion groups with the psychologist have helped her a great deal but, although they have eased her distress a little, she can't forget the shock of everything going up in smoke overnight and all the deaths around her. For Hassna,
“Even if the village is rebuilt, there will always be a feeling of loss.”
1Migrations & Développement and the Community-based rehabilitation Network.