Brutal landslide destroys entire village: 69-year-old Marthandan lost his home, wife, and children
I felt devastated as I tried to process the shock, still feeling uncertain about their fate. I needed their bodies to perform final rituals. Frantically, I searched through the wreckage, calling their names, but deep down, I knew the truth. My wife, my son, and daughter-in-law were buried alive beneath the ruins.
- 1 week ago
October 6, 2024
On July 30, 2024, at 2:00 a.m. a series of landslides hit near Kanjiramattom, Mundakkai, Chooralmala, and Vellarimala villages in Meppadi Panchayat, Vythiri Taluk in the Wayanad district, Kerala, India. | Photo courtesy of Kudumbashree/NDRF
WAYANAD, Kerala — On an ordinary day during the monsoons in Kerala, I worked on the farm. My wife, son, and daughter-in-law stayed home to care for our pregnant daughter. In the evening, she felt some pain and we rushed her to the hospital, thinking she might require medical attention as her delivery date drew near.
When my wife came home for dinner, I headed to the hospital so she could rest. I arrived at the hospital at 10:00 p.m., never imagining a devastating landslide would soon destroy my family at home.
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Chaos erupts at hospital as landslide sweeps away village
At the hospital, I slept peacefully until chaos erupted at 2:00 a.m. People flooded the hospital, seeking shelter, a common sight during heavy rains in our village. Amid the panic, a man from our town informed me of a landslide that swept away houses. Immediately, I feared for my family, likely fighting to survive.
With helicopters circling overhead, fear surged through the crowds at the hospital as screams filled the air. I wanted to leave, but the heavy rain poured down, preventing me from stepping outside. As people raced for their lives, guards blocked the exits to stop anyone from escaping.
Though I could not contact my family, I kept my hopes high for their safety. Uncertainty gripped me as witnesses reported the landslide washed away the entire village. My daughter’s pain continued, so I decided not to tell her anything. I reassured her of everyone’s safety at home. Even though I did not know the status of my family, I comforted my daughter, implying the rain simply prevented them from getting to us.
The next morning, at 7:00 a.m., I left the hospital, struggling to find my way. It took five hours before anyone dared to venture outside. The landslide washed away everything, leaving only a barren road. Water climbed to my knees as I struggled through the thick mud and debris. I managed to walk, but along the way, the National Disaster Response Force (NDRF) stopped me. I pleaded with them, but they refused to let me through.
Father mourns as daughter gives birth amidst family tragedy
The next day, my daughter gave birth to a baby girl. In deep pain, she longed for her mother, but my wife remained missing. I decided not to tell her anything about her mother and brother. Instead, I reassured her that the authorities had them in a safe location, providing them with food. After three long days, I returned home to witness nothing but destruction and emptiness.
Mud and debris covered the place where our house once stood. I asked the rescue teams for information and checked local hospitals, but nothing emerged. It felt unbelievable. I continued to hold onto hope that rescuers found my family members safe. Reports emerged of numerous houses vanishing in the disaster, and a sense of deep loss settled in.
After a desperate search ensued, authorities delivered grim news. My family was swept away in the disaster, leaving little hope for their survival. I felt devastated as I tried to process the shock, still feeling uncertain about their fate. I needed their bodies to perform final rituals. Frantically, I searched through the wreckage, calling their names, but deep down, I knew the truth. My wife, my son, and daughter-in-law were buried alive beneath the ruins.
After five days, I finally confessed the truth to my daughter. She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably as the entire hospital worked to calm her. She never thought her last trip to the hospital would mark her final goodbye to her mother. Now, she cradles her newborn daughter but stays quietly detached. Although she feeds and cares for her baby, she barely engages with the world around her. Every day, I sit by her side and hold her hand. Hearing the rhythmic beeping of the machines, I dread how I will survive if I lose her too. Amid the suffering, I feel uncertain about whether to mourn those I lost or to cherish the ones I still have.
Grieving father struggles with guilt and loss, clings to hope for his daughter’s recovery
As I recall the moments in my head, I wonder if my presence could have saved them. The guilt weighs heavily on me as I ask myself, “Could I have prevented this nightmare?” Perhaps my daughter feels the same guilt for not being with them.
This hospital room suffocates me. My daughter lies on the bed, unable to accept her entire family washed away in disaster. Nurses come and go, treating those who survived and offering kind words to those who lost their families. Yet, words mean little now. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces. I witness my wife’s smile, my son’s laughter, and my daughter-in-law’s kindness.
I often question how one survives after losing everything. People say time heals, but I wonder how much time I have. The only thing I feel now is the presence of my daughter and the little life she brought into the world. Soon, she will leave for her in-laws’ house, and the thought of being alone crushes me. Holding my grandchild feels surreal and rekindles my motivation. This is why I stay here; it explains why life did not take me yet. Nonetheless, today, it all feels like an empty promise. I know they will leave, and I will face being alone.
The rain continues to pour. Every day, it reminds me how it killed my entire family. Though people enjoy the rain, I cannot stand it because it brings back memories of my loved ones. The land I nurtured took my family away. We call our land our mother, but it betrayed me. Currently, I can only hope my daughter recovers. God gave her a purpose to move on. Once she goes to her in-laws’ house, I will find a way to rebuild myself and my home. For now, I wait, pray, and grieve.
