Doomsday Kathmandu

Imagine waking up in a shaking building echoing with your mothers screams. You try to run but it’s too late. The next thing you remember is being pulled out from the rumble. Your house, your roof, your shelter is now ruble; scattered onto the streets. Someone gives you water, you sip and look around to realize that you are not alone. Your city has crumbled into a human tragedy. You hear screams, calls for help from every direction. You realize your family is not around. You call for your amma and baba. No answer. You shout again and again. They are buried. You start shoveling with your hands. It hurts but you must go on. They are in there and you know it. It hurts but you dig- clothes, glass, bricks, cement, utensils, but no life. No amma, no baba. No answer.

Shiva has just danced the Rudra Tandav; everywhere you look there is destruction. The houses of Kathmandu that have leaned on each other have fallen. There is telephone, no water, no electricity (and its not coming back), no internet. The Kathmandu you’ve known and loved lies buried under its self. What do you do? Who do you call? Where is help? Where is relief? Who will give you food? Where are you to go and to whom?

The cries to make Kathmandu earthquake safe has fallen on deaf ears of make a pick: bureaucrats, politician, monarchy, the public, God, me, you, Rajesh Hamal, Rajnikanth- at this point it doesn’t matter. For more than 50 years Kathmandu has boomed into a chaos: houses mushrooming everywhere; streets slithering around buildings at whim; people on the road; vehicles on the footpaths, a free for all city where malls tower next to houses, temples placed in the middle of the streets, bricks everywhere, schools buildings as feeble as our government, and no open space. We have slowly suffocated ourselves, and while these peculiarities are part of the Kathmandupan its very existence seem idiotic given the threat of a massive earthquake hitting Kathmandu is quite real. The romantic in you withers when you remind yourself of the warning: It’s not the earthquakes that kill people it’s the buildings.

If an earthquake similar to the infamous 1934 earthquake hits Kathmandu, GeoHazards International says, it would destroy 6 out of 10 houses in the city. That’s 60% of the city. Baneshwors gone. Ganeshwor no more, Thapathali, Kupondole. Jhamsikhel, Maharajganj, Teku, Aason, you take your pick -all gone. Kathmandu is a time bomb. Claire Cozens (AFP) writes that, “Geologists believe it (Kathmandu) is at risk from an earthquake with a magnitude of around eight -- 10 times as powerful as the Haiti shock that killed more than 212,000 people.” This is our city she is talking about. We are ranked one in terms of vulnerability. We cannot remain desensitized from such a grave omen.

Lets face it we are in big trouble; we have completely failed in taking safety measure. But what next, are we doomed or is there still a chance? Well in terms of precautions we are doomed- sad but true. We cannot easily reverse what has already been, at least not in time, however what we can do is educate ourselves on survival mechanisms, both during and after the earthquake.

Authorities need to tell us what to do during an earthquake, where to hid, what is the safest place to be in. In case of a disaster where do we get the food we need. What happens if all the roads to Kathmandu are destroyed? Where and how will we access the relief. They need to take a better look at where the tents are going to come from, where do we get the doctors from, and how and when do we rebuild. Sadly, its time to focus on the cure. We cannot prevent an earthquake, we can’t even prevent the destruction of life and property it’s going to cause, but we can prevent the spread of disease, and we can be prepared. Many earthquake education foundations focus on prevention, and more power to them, but the time for prevention is over. We must change our focus from prevention to cure. If we have some preparation underway we need to educate the people, we need to equip them to make rational choices. It must be obvious that I don’t mean we go on building houses the way we have in the past, prevention is still better than cure, but as a city the time for prevention is over.

Remember Haiti, remember how the entire world banded together to help, goodwill all over, and humanity was at its finest, but as time moves on so do people but those in Haiti still have to live with the horrors everyday. Those horrors will soon be ours. We are the unfortunate custodians of Haiti’s sorrow.

It’s a scary feeling not knowing what to do next. Its scary to be hopeless and alone, and yet most of Kathmandu will find itself in that situation when an earthquake hits. We need to empower ourselves, educate ourselves, and think long term. The government and the civil society, you and me- needs to work together, with each other, for each other. Is that too much to ask?

(Nicholas Pitt / Alamy)