Deep despair in quake zone

Recent travels through Balakot, one of the worst hit areas just off the epicentre of the quake, revealed a shattered landscape of devastation and doubt. The most pressing question for many survivors here remains where to spend the winter.

Thousands of survivors have come down from the hills to seek medical treatment and food in Balakot, a low-lying area with relatively moderate temperatures. Many say they will stay here, finding shelter in tent villages set up by the government and international NGOs. Government officials appreciate the survivors for the encouraging move.

But an equal number of survivors, driven by emotional attachments to their ancestral lands, intend to return to their remote mountain homes, to start life again even as the chilling winter approaches.

The split was evident at the Ayub Medical Centre, a drafty, tomb like hospital in neighbouring Abbottabad, where many survivors have been sent.

Meskeen, a 63-year-old farmer, lay in a corner of a dark ward, his body wrapped in blankets, his arm bundled in bandages. He lost thirty family members to the quake, as well as 10 goats, his only asset. He also lost his house, and is now planning to live in a tented village. "My remaining family is still living under the open sky," he says. "We have no option. We're only looking for a tent."

Others, however, say they must return to their native lands, no matter how harsh the winter may be.

Khanani Ziman, 35, has been living for 15 days in a tent camp outside the hospital, waiting for his wife to recover from her leg injury. He lost 250 family members, including his four children. "Whenever my wife recovers, we will go back," he says, adding that he's not worried at all about the winter. "We will build a new house, and it will be enough for winter."

Women are subject to considerable uncertainties in the aftermath of the quake, as illustrated by the case of Nusrut, 18, who lost her leg. Her mother says they've been in the camp for 26 days, and have nowhere else to go. Her husband has another wife and has gone off to be with her, leaving them alone. "We have to stay here," Nusrut's mother says. "Without government support, we can't go back."

All across Balakot, children are recognised as the worst affected, their futures most in doubt. Of the more than 15,000 patients treated so far at the Ayub Medical Complex, half of them have been children, according to Shafiqur Rahman, the hospital's Public Relations Officer. "For the first three days, we received only children. The number was so high that we couldn't collect data."

Hospital officials report that several children in the paediatric ward have become infected with tetanus. One child died just a few days ago from a tetanus infection, Rahman says, adding that essential medicines are in short supply. Without more aid, the children's future is unknown.

For now, the only certain thing is that Balakot is utterly destroyed, its function as a once prosperous tourist town now a figment of history. Some 8,000 schools have been destroyed as well as an untold number of homes. Given the extent of the damage, some local government officials are pressing the federal authorities to relocate the town.