Mission to Bam
International humanitarian effort is providing a glimmer of hope to survivors of the devastating earthquake in the southeastern Iranian city of Bam. Amira Ibrahim joined an Egyptian aid flight
The trip started at dawn at a military air base, where a C-130 aircraft was waiting for take-off. It was loaded with tons of relief materials: pharmaceuticals, tents and blankets. This was the fifth planeload to be sent to the Iranian city in 10 days. Just 48 hours after the earthquake hit Bam, President Mubarak ordered urgent aid be sent to the scene. The aid on our flight -- estimated at 25 tons and mostly medical supplies -- was donated by the Egyptian Red Crescent Society.
When we arrived at Kirman airport, 180 kilometres from Bam, we found it in a state of confusion. Iranian soldiers were everywhere; as they coordinated the unloading, lorries moved about the runway taking supplies directly to Bam. Inside the airport, the main hall was turned into a makeshift field hospital. Iranian Red Crescent workers were offering treatment to injured people lying on the floor.
An hour later we were on a bus to Bam, along with a group of Bam residents going home after receiving medical treatment in the nearby town of Mashihad. As darkness fell, an Iranian film was shown. The film was about a father grieving for his dead son. He was crying, surrounded by his mourning family. Soon the Iranians on the bus joined the mourners on the screen with their weeping.
Fatma, a 22-year-old university student, lost her brothers and seven nephews and nieces. She had been injured when a part of the ceiling fell on her head. "I am going to live with my father, the only survivor of my family. He is old and he is alone in the tent," Fatma said. Sitting next to her was Basharig, 29, who said she had lost her husband and three sons who were all buried under the house.
Bam's ancient mud-brick citadel and walled city were flattened by the earthquake, which had a magnitude of 6.8. The only building that remained unharmed was the Saheb Al-Zaamn mosque.
Entering the city of Bam, the scale of the devastation quickly became apparent. Bam is now a tent city. Hundreds, if not thousands, of tents have mushroomed out of the rubble of the ancient fort city. And the problems are simply overwhelming. Iranian officials admit they cannot build a comprehensive camp, supplied with water and electricity, for at least another week. In the meantime, the survivors have nothing left but their personal miseries.
Iranian Red Crescent Director of International Affairs Mustafa Muhaqaq said that initial efforts were directed towards pitching 10,000 tents that could provide humanitarian accommodation for 40,000 to 50,000 people. "We'll establish a school and even university classes inside the tents and soon the school year will resume," he added optimistically.
At the Red Crescent headquarters, guards kept the main gate half closed to stop people from storming the hospital to ask for food or medicines. Inside, the hospital was in a state of emergency: medical waste was piled in corridor corners and the water supply had been cut off. The smell was overwhelming, forcing everyone to wear masks. Dozens of injured people lay on any available floor space. The hospital itself had been seriously damaged by the earthquake, raising concerns that it too might collapse.
According to Muhaqaq, a number of field hospitals had been established by the international community. "We now have some eight field hospitals and four small medical units," he said. However, there was still a shortage of various drugs and medicine, as well as X-ray equipment. As he was talking, people were shouting from behind the hospital gates, begging for supplies.
Iranian figures indicate that more than 35,000 bodies have already been buried in mass graves, while more than 10,000 are believed still to be under the wreckage. There is not, however, a risk of an epidemic, "thanks to the cold weather," said Dr Azama of the Iranian Red Crescent. That, however, is of little consolation to the thousands of survivors who still have nowhere warm to spend the freezing nights.
Inside the tents, the survivors gathered around an oil heater for warmth. They had only a few blankets and small pots with the remains of a meagre dinner. "The government hopes to transfer them to well prepared camps soon," our Iranian guide Sadek told us.
"It is God's will and we cannot object," said an elderly man with his neck wrapped carefully in a pale woollen scarf. "My family was very large, more than 50 people. But only nine survived the quake."
The return journey to Kirman seemed to take a long time. In the daylight the scene was clear -- the destruction was complete. Kirman airport, meanwhile, was crowded with tens of freshly-arrived foreign rescue workers packing their equipment before heading to Bam. For us, the mission was done.
