The devastation caused by the Wayanad landslide has been so terrible that it cannot be properly imagined without seeing it with one’s own eyes. The landslide occurred at midnight on July 30, 2024, following more than a week of heavy rains. It caused severe damage to Mundakkai, Chooralmala, and Vellarimala villages in Wayanad District of Kerala, burying approximately 700 homes and businesses.
The State Emergency Operations Centre (SEOC) Kerala has reported the recovery of 231 bodies and 212 body parts, with 630 individuals injured and 119 missing. The missing people are feared to have drowned in the 20-25 feet thick debris. Human body parts were found in the river tens of miles away.
Stone quarrying and the illegal closing of small pits and natural springs are attributed as the main causes of the landslides. However, the Kerala government has rejected these estimates by environmentalists.
Humanitarian Aid International (HAI), the Local Organizations’ Coalition for Advancing Localization (LOCAL) platform, and Airlink joined to deploy us to visit areas affected by the Wayanad landslide and provide possible humanitarian services. The LOCAL is a platform formed with selected local NGOs from as many as 13 Indian states under the aegis of HAI, an Indian NGO founded by the visionary humanitarian Sri Sudhanshu Shekhar Singh. Prepared with an all-India Roster of disaster response volunteers, the LOCAL is moving with great sincerity and speed in disaster management.
On August 5th, we visited two camps at the SDM LP School campus in Kalpetta, where fifty-five migrants from the North and North East, along with local survivors, were sheltered. People from Madhya Pradesh and Assam worked in tea estates in Mundakkai. The youths of Jharkhand worked in cardamom gardens. They were perplexed as they did not understand the Malayalam language. They felt an affinity when we spoke Hindi. We tried to reassure everyone by providing them with our mobile number for communication in unexpected circumstances. Though they were not injured, they witnessed the fury of nature. There is no sign of the shop owned by the Bihari man who narrowly escaped toppling over roofs; he is now in the hospital with serious injuries. His four kin perished in the massive torrent.
Dinner at Shreyas, the chair of Wayanad IAG and our present abode, included a brief discussion on the overall situation. Local people requested help in cleaning houses that had been filled with mud and silt. We immediately decided to assist. Led by Father Saji, the Convent Sisters and Seminary Brothers of Shreyas will provide physical and programmatic services. Mr Joshi from Kottayam, a cleaning equipment manufacturer, volunteered to assist with manual work using pump sets, suction, and his hands.
We set out at 9 a.m. and procured enough gumboots, wipers, mops, disinfectants, etc. In Kottanad, we cleaned the house of an elderly couple who had to take shelter in someone else’s house due to the unhygienic siltation. The shelter camp at Kottanad UP School was vacated for educational purposes and given a thorough cleaning.
In a small camp nearby, 10 people from 3 families from Bihar took refuge. The huts of these Mundakkai tea estate workers were washed away. That night, at half past one, Rajesh, a quadragenarian, came out when there was an unusual tremor accompanied by loud noise. He sensed moving flashlights and heard people screaming. In the mayhem, Rajesh dragged his friends and family to a safe place by lighting a mobile flashlight. The sound of descending hills, the flickering of torches, and the screams created a frightening, hellish atmosphere. The tile roof of a neighbour collapsed, severely injuring the resident. They are now desperate to return to Bihar. As a translator, I connected them to a humanitarian organization that took responsibility for their return.
Four of us travelled to Chooralmala, one of the most affected villages on the mountain slopes. The small, beautiful stream is now a wide river of mud under which the settlement is buried.
Mr Salam is a professional driver and owner of a mini-truck. That night, he was with the Imam (Muslim parson) in the mosque as his family was away. He didn’t sleep. Hearing a loud noise after 1 AM, he called the people nearby and climbed up a hill. “That was Qayamat,” says Salam. They were shocked. Salam’s Bolero pickup, usually parked on the roadside, disappeared along with the road. He has no regrets over the loss of livelihood; Salam’s eyes ooze with the pain of losing the villagers.
Omair was studying IT in Karnataka. The landslide news brought him home. We saw the ruins of the village with him. The multi-storied building near the mosque in Chooralmala acted like a fortress, holding back a considerable amount of stones and logs that had rolled down. Omair identified his uncle’s house which lay half-buried in the middle of the muddy river. His slurred speech failed to describe the tragic end of the family.
With the hope of finding a body or a part beneath 20-25 feet of debris, various rescue teams excavated every day. The NDRF personnel were relaxing around a log in the middle of the soggy river bed when I raised my voice. They were surprised to hear Hindi after a long time. The search operation is in its last stage. The previous day, they dug out a human arm, decomposed for more than a week and stinking. They are digging today for the rest of the body but with fading hopes. We saluted their untiring efforts as we moved away to talk to other search teams, boosting their morale.
We took a few moments to look at the ruins, trying to comprehend the infinite power of nature.
Joshi’s team applied disinfectants after cleaning Salam’s well. The houses of survivors are deserted. We had to return as there was a prohibition on working in such houses. The day was ending, too.
The next day, at the camp in Ripon, we met 14 migrants, including four women and five children from the Barpeta and Chirang districts of Assam. Like others, they chose to migrate as their women found employment opportunities here. They came to the Attamala tea estate one month ago. Besides partial damage to the estate, road communication has been disrupted.
These labourers had taken advances from the garden authority. Though there is no problem in the camp, they are suffering from depression. Their pockets are empty, being jobless for nine days. A couple of months will pass before work starts again. If they return, they will remain unemployed. Travelling with families is expensive, too. We opined that they should request the garden manager to coordinate with other gardens to engage them temporarily. We assured them of help in the discussion if needed. We told them we could be contacted at any hour. They didn’t even have talk-time validity. They were happy and felt reassured when we recharged their phone.
Here we met volunteers from the Snehakoottayam Charitable Society, who travelled 300 km from Cochin. Speaking to Rafiq Usman, we learned that they felt obliged to serve as volunteers in disasters. Their team, consisting of women and youth, has been providing cooking and catering services for more than 400 camp inmates. Serving from day one, they ran short of certain supplies. We immediately offered to meet the shortage, which satisfied us. Before leaving, we learned that the garden manager of Attamala assured jobs for the Assamese migrants.
At the Civil Station, District Disaster Management Programme Officer Dr Madhila gave us a glimpse of the government’s stance. The government is creating a lot of facilities for the affected survivors. Several people sheltered merely for security reasons are being sent home. The working environment for NGOs is yet to be established.
We shared the feeling that migrant workers, except those from Assam, desperately wanted to go home. Those from Assam wanted to stay back and considered the camp days a waste of time. Stating that our perception was correct, Dr Madhila added that they are resilient; Kerala is like Assam in terms of disasters.
August 8, the 10th day of the landslide. At the gate of a high school camp in Meppadi was a broken-hearted, healthy young man, probably in his early 40s. He was looking at the camp with a knee on the bike seat. This Chooralmala youth is a welding mechanic. His mother, sister, wife, and child went missing on the night of the havoc when he was at the workshop. Missing means being buried 20-25 feet beneath the rubble. He was looking at the camp as he spoke, hoping to see his family among the camp inmates. His voice choked, and his eyes watered. We dared not ask his name.
Sruthi was radiating a different light in this camp. She was paddling tirelessly on a sewing machine in the camp veranda. Several senior women were waiting with clothes in hand. On her first visit to the camp, she felt the displeasure of the women wearing dresses that required alteration. The dresses they received as aid were oversized. Creating a unique story, she rented a sewing machine for a few days, bought threads, and sat in the camp. She kept stitching and altering clothes for the inmates with a smile. Sruthi was no longer bothered about her upcoming bank exams. Inside, she was upset that the machine had to be returned. We found pleasure in inviting her to Kalpetta to buy a sewing machine. A couple of days later, she was seen in the camp with three machines, assisted by friends.
We found 15 Nepalese migrants, including women and children, in the camp at DePaul Convent School. They were restaurant workers at the 900 Kandi Eco Park, known for its Glass Bridge. They felt that engagement at Eco Park wouldn’t start anytime soon. They were also perplexed about whether the owner would pay their last month’s remuneration or not. The matrix of joblessness, staying back, or travelling with families was biting them inside. They also faced discomfort in terms of language. We promised to jointly establish their rights by talking to any authority if any injustice was done to them. We told them to keep in touch with us over the phone. Our efforts seemed to bring some confidence in them.
Dear Reader,
Every day, our team at EastMojo travels through rain, rough roads, and remote hills to bring you stories that matter – stories from your town, your people, your Northeast.
We do this because we believe in truthful, independent journalism. No big corporate backing, no government pressure – just honest reporting by local journalists who live and breathe the same air you do.
But to keep doing this work, we need you. Your small contribution helps us pay our reporters fairly, reach places others ignore, and keep asking the tough questions.
If you believe the Northeast deserves its own fearless voice, stand with us.
Support independent journalism. Be a Member.
Thank you,
Karma Paljor
Editor-in-Chief, eastmojo.com
At 4:30 p.m., my deployment in Wayanad was over. Nahith and I took pictures of the farewell with the church in the background. Nahith Beegum, Program Officer of humanitarian services at HAI, is an immensely resourceful, accomplished, and dedicated humanitarian worker on the disaster scene. Since day one, she was my guide and programmer, without whom the Wayanad journey would have made no sense.
Also Read | Lesson from Wayanad: State needs disaster mitigation rather than a disaster management strategy