In the village of Anougal you can smell the dead: ‘No one gives a damn about this area’

In the village of Anougal you can smell the corpses. Most residents of the Moroccan town, near the epicenter of Friday’s major earthquake, have died and are largely still buried under the rubble. Until Monday morning, the village of several thousand inhabitants was not accessible to emergency services. Part of the adjacent mountain has fallen on the village and is blocking the roads.

Rescue workers from the United Kingdom, Qatar, Sweden and Spain are now searching for survivors. But with every piece of debris that is removed, the ray of hope that residents still had dwindles.

“My daughters and husband have died,” says Hanane aït Hsen in a daze. She is dressed in white, according to a Moroccan tradition in which a widow wears white clothes for forty days. “It had to be that way. Luckily I still have Allah. And I hope everyone finds the strength to cope with the loss.” Her light blue eyes fill with tears. Her sister Khadija shows a destroyed house and says that her nieces Oumaima (2) and Zahira (4) were found next to their father. “They were holding each other when they found the bodies.”

Domino-effect

A few meters away someone starts screaming. Like a domino effect, everyone starts crying and hugging each other. A family has just arrived in the village and sees the devastation. They are also told that all their relatives who lived there have died. 40-year-old Brahim aït lhesni collapses. “Lwalida,” he shouts. Mom. They just pulled her lifeless body out from under the rubble. Brahim’s wife kneels next to him and tries to calm him down, while their daughter starts to cry. A Swedish rescue worker comes to their aid. Moments later, more bodies are pulled from the rubble.

resident AnougalFadma Messoudi We are almost 72 hours further and only now is the help really starting

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“We haven’t gotten anyone out alive yet today,” says a Spanish rescue worker. “We were only able to save some animals. Chickens, rabbits, but the owner of the farm and his family are no longer there.”

Aid supplies are slowly reaching the villages and medical teams, such as Doctors Without Borders, have arrived and set up a tent camp. The dozens of survivors receive food and a medical check-up. But residents say the help comes too late. “We are almost 72 hours further and only now is the help really starting. And consider that further along there is another village that is inaccessible, because everything here is in ruins and has blocked the road,” Fadma Messoudi points into the distance. “We heard there are only two survivors there, but God knows best.”

She shows the inside of her house, or rather what’s left of it. The roof is half gone and the walls have collapsed. She is just about to show the living room when she receives a call from a neighbor. “Run outside, quickly,” she screams in panic. “The neighbor says there will be another earthquake.” Outside, the neighbor stands ashen-faced next to a bleating donkey. “Animals sense when something is wrong. He doesn’t just do this.” But Fadma Messoudi’s son says with a laugh that everyone is still scared. “That’s why they are in panic mode at every sound.”

Disadvantaged area

“This morning we heard the imam shouting,” says 26-year-old Hassan Arbita, as he sits on the remains of his parental home. “When the emergency services finally arrived, he was already dead. He was shouting for days. I felt powerless, because digging by hand is impossible. It was with difficulty that I could bring out my own mother, may God have her soul.” Hassan’s parents, sisters, uncles and grandparents are all deceased. “Even the living are dead. Our souls died with our family members we lost.”

resident AnougalHassan Arbita This morning we heard the imam shouting, when the emergency services finally arrived, he had died

The conversation is interrupted by a fellow villager who runs towards him and falls into his arms, crying. “Everyone is gone, Hassan. Everyone. What should we do now? My condolences for the loss of your parents and sisters,” says Mohamed in a hoarse voice. He has just arrived in the village and sees the devastation for the first time.

His sadness turns to anger. “Do you know what the problem is? Nobody gives a shit about this area. Our infrastructure is in jeopardy. There are no hospitals here and the houses are poorly built.” Another acquaintance, 27-year-old Taïb Azjmar, joins and complements Mohamed. “We also have poor coverage here. Always has, but now with the earthquake we can’t call anyone. And that’s when you pull a body out of the rubble and need help.”

The Atlas Mountains, like the Rif Mountains, are a deprived area. Both regions are mainly home to Amazigh peoples (known as Berbers in the Netherlands). The government has invested little in the area, leaving residents dependent on the major cities hundreds of kilometers away. “We hope that things will now change and that the government sees this as a sign that this region needs to be renovated,” concludes Mohamed.

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However, the first signs are not promising. Authorities have not yet been to the area. Moreover, fuel has become more expensive. Prime Minister Aziz Akhannouch has become rich from fuel distribution. People are furious, because many want to go to the disaster area to help, but that makes that more difficult.

In Anougal, a woman sits on a chair in front of a broken house. Moroccan rescuers try to save her mother and 11-year-old niece. There are still signs of life, so the rescuers continue to dig aggressively. But with every minute that passes, the atmosphere becomes more somber.

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