In several areas, the water surged over the tops of 30-meter-tall palm trees at a pace of nearly 120 km per hour, like to a convoy of cars.
The 47-year-old government employee Hani Elbah prepared for his impending death as soon as he noticed the flood coming. On September 11, Storm Daniel made landfall at Derna, an eastern Libyan city.
A seven-story building nearby that housed twenty-one families collapsed. Elbah remembers, “The families were all upstairs.” “The flood crushed it like a milk carton.”
People were being sucked down by the water, and lights from cell phones were seen careening into the turmoil. Elbah, his spouse, and their three kids managed to live by staying on the sixth-floor roof of their neighbour.
They had escaped, but the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs reports that over two months after the flood, authorities have reported almost 4,400 deaths and over 8,000 unaccounted-for deaths.
Furthermore, Derna locals claim that trauma and a dearth of humanitarian supplies are still plaguing the area and that what was lost—for many—was everything. In the face of progressively alarming reports of suicides and other mental health emergencies, almost 43,000 people remain internally displaced.
Elbah claims, “Even before, the city was exhausted.” “Everything from A to Z is now required. Housing, water supply, and infrastructural projects are all necessary. We primarily require psychological assistance.”
Needs immediately
Elbah notes that while some schools in Derna are partially operational due to damaged structures and teachers who are either missing or deceased, others have been completely destroyed or are currently occupied by homeless flood victims. While workers continue their hunt for bodies, shallow mass graves seem to be in danger of being discovered.
According to Red Crescent volunteer Sanad Alowami, who works in Derna, “one only has to look to the children to see the lingering trauma from the floods and what has become a widespread mental health crisis” on the streets.
“Whenever they see rain, they will run to the rooftops and shout at people to come up, saying ‘It’s coming, it’s coming,’” adds Alowami.
According to International Medical Corps’ Libya Country Director, Talal Burnaz, the mental health crisis in Derna is one of the country’s most pressing requirements, but treating it is a challenging matter. He claims that Libya lacks both a culture of mental health treatment and qualified psychologists. However, he claims that because of the increased suicide rate and the dearth of psycho-social help, the trauma has turned fatal.
“We started seeing lots of reports about cases who committed suicide or tried to commit suicide in that region,” according to him. “The loss of their family members obviously had a mental toll on those people. Furthermore, it is not a small number.
Burnaz continues, “People in the areas devastated by the floods also have immediate physical needs.”
In Derna, about 2,000 families are still jammed into makeshift shelters like schools, relatives’ houses, or abandoned buildings that were once thought to be unsafe for habitation.
Additionally, according to Alowami of the Red Crescent, recovery in areas destroyed by the floods has been sluggish and occasionally haphazard, with aid occasionally delayed and other crucial recovery initiatives still in the planning stages.
He continues, “Many families still need basic items, like warm blankets and sheets, as winter draws near.”
He says, “We were very fortunate to have a lot of help at first.” Although some of it was not dispersed properly, the requests were satisfied. However, the majority of relief hasn’t arrived in two weeks.”
Why is there no help?
As per Mary Fitzgerald, a Libya expert at the Middle East Institute, a Washington-based think tank, people from all over Libya went to the devastated region in the days following the floods, either working with humanitarian organisations or just bringing what little assistance they could from their homes and neighbourhoods. The two administrations of Libya vowed to support the region’s recovery.
However, many volunteers had to return to their jobs and families in the weeks that followed, and the moment of agreement between the two governments did not translate into a new phase of cooperative activities. Fitzgerald claims that Derna and the surrounding area are still cut off by political divides, devastated by years of conflict, readily disregarded by the international world, and vulnerable to corruption and abuse.
“The needs remain enormous,” she says, “but there is increasingly a sense that the authorities have essentially moved on.”
Families in Derna are eager to point out that assistance is required, but only if it is provided “direct to the people without any middle parties,” without providing specific details about the issue.
Locals were so incensed over the corruption and poor management they felt caused the dams to fail in the first place that they staged protests right after the flooding. However, since then, protests have ceased and most foreign journalists and scholars have been denied access to the area.
However, Alowami claims that the mental health crisis is still worsening and that many of the thousands of people who have gone missing are not any closer to being found. The bodies that have been discovered so far are 80 km offshore.
“The people are still shocked from the catastrophe,” he states. “Those who lost friends and family did not weep for them. There was no time for mourning.”
Credit- Heather Murdock
@heather_murdock
