VENEZUELA: ‘Now the emergency phase is over, the long-term needs are beginning’
On 24 June, two powerful earthquakes struck northern Venezuela. According to official figures, they left 6,125 people dead, 16,740 injured and around 24,000 displaced, housed in temporary shelters. Thousands of people organised themselves to search for survivors, gather supplies and provide help to those in need.
CIVICUS discusses the public response to the earthquake with Reynaldo Olivar and Izumi Viloria, two young people who helped those affected, including by organising fundraising campaigns on social media and distributing aid.
What was the earthquake like?
Caracas began to shake shortly after six in the evening. At first, it felt like one of the mild or moderate tremors we’re used to. But it grew in strength and, just when we thought it was subsiding, another one struck. There were two earthquakes of magnitudes 7.2 and 7.5, separated by 29 seconds. In total, they lasted 40 seconds that felt like an eternity.
Pictures, glasses and wall decorations came crashing down. We could barely stay on our feet. At one point, we feared the building would collapse on top of us before we could get out. We managed to escape, but when we reached the street, we couldn’t believe our eyes. The building was still shaking, the walls were cracked and a frieze had fallen to the floor. On the avenue, all the cars had come to a halt and people were running out of a nearby shopping centre. We were terrified and didn’t understand what had happened.
Our phones had lost signal, but we managed to connect to the flat’s Wi-Fi. First, we checked that our family and loved ones were safe. Then, we logged onto social media. It was only then that we began to grasp the scale of the disaster, with buildings completely collapsed, the airport destroyed and La Guaira, the coastal state closest to Caracas, in ruins. But none of that compared to seeing it with our own eyes.
What did you do to help?
We wanted to help, but as we’d never experienced anything like this before, we had to learn as we went along. On the first day we helped clear rubble, but we came back feeling frustrated that we weren’t doing enough. Many friends and family members outside Venezuela were also asking how they could help. So we came up with the idea of organising a fundraising drive on social media. The plan was simple: raise money, buy the necessary supplies, including clothing, food, medicines and tools, and post the receipt along with a photo or video of the handover, giving complete transparency about how every bolívar was spent.
With our first fundraising drive, we bought a generator, pickaxes and spades. People began to trust us and would send us details of those affected so we could contact them and check on their wellbeing. The volume became unmanageable for just two people. We eventually grew to 14.
What did you learn about how to help?
Aid has to be targeted. At first, lots of people donated whole bags of clothes they no longer wore, but when we arrived at the disaster relief centres, we saw mountains of clothes piled up and others strewn on the floor, wet. No one had time to sort the clothes, nor was it a priority at that moment. The same thing happened with food. So much was cooked for the rescue teams and affected families that a lot of it ended up going to waste.
We also learnt that too many people helping at once can get in the way. Immediately after the earthquake, so many cars were heading down from Caracas to La Guaira that the traffic blocked the ambulances from getting through. We know people died as a result. From that day on, we asked that no one come down unless they had a specific task to carry out.
What did work was going up to people and asking. We’d arrive somewhere, meet someone, they’d tell us what they needed and lead us to 10 more families, who in turn would lead us to 20 more. That’s how we expanded our reach, posting on social media about what was needed and where.
We also realised that aid must not create dependency. If a person is provided with breakfast, lunch and dinner every day, at some point they will stop trying to fend for themselves. For example, if someone needs insulin or anti-epileptic medication, we give them enough to last three months. That way, we cover the immediate need until they can organise things for themselves.
What needs do you see now?
The emergency phase, that adrenaline-fuelled stage when everything had to be sorted out quickly, is over. Now the medium-term and long-term needs are coming to the fore. Thousands of people are still sleeping in squares and public spaces because their homes have collapsed. It remains to be seen what sort of shelter they will have and how they will feed themselves. That is why we are redirecting our aid towards the shelters currently being built.
The psychological impact of the disaster will also begin to be felt. Many people are experiencing what is known as ‘suspended grief’. They have lost someone but, as they have to carry on helping others, they are unable to grieve properly. Some know a family member is buried under the rubble, but do not know whether they are alive or dead, so they are not yet mourning them. Some buildings were demolished with bodies still inside. That’s where the guilt sets in: the guilt of having allowed it to happen, of not having been able to say goodbye.
The youngest children are suffering too. Many are crying because they don’t understand what has happened to their homes or where their loved ones are. A 12-year-old girl approached us asking for a psychologist. She told us she had such a tight lump in her throat that she couldn’t eat.
And then there are the rescue teams, who pulled people alive and dead from the rubble, and those watching from the sidelines, feeling helpless because they cannot help. They, too, have been affected and will need psychological support.
What can people and organisations from other countries do?
The international response has been very good, and we are grateful. Rescue teams arrived from many countries, including Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, El Salvador, Mexico and the USA. We worked side by side with several of them. On the first day, we saw the ‘Topos’, the Mexican rescue brigade. Later on, we handed out torches to Colombian firefighters.
What we are asking for now is perseverance. Many of us have to return to our routines, our jobs and the commitments we had. Our lives go on, but for many people who have lost their families and homes, they do not. This crisis will not be resolved in a week or even two months.
A large part of a city has been destroyed, and the consequences will last for years. It is no longer a question of speed, but of remaining present and assessing what the real needs are at any given moment.
To that end, we ask the international community and journalists to continue raising awareness of the situation. Sometimes there is so much information circulating that it is difficult to understand what is happening without context. These platforms serve precisely that purpose.
CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.