‘The flood took everything away!’: Surviving a flash flood in Ghor
It was 5:30 in the evening and I had just arrived home from the madrasa. The sky above my village was filled with dark clouds while the roaring sound of wind as well as loud thunder and lightning were scaring the village children.
I took my two little sisters inside our house and closed the window curtains so that they would not be afraid of the storm. The TV was loud but we would shake every time there was thunder, and my little sisters would cry and hold me tightly.
A little later, it started raining heavily, with the water gushing down from the roof gutters like a stream. My grandmother, who is about 68 years old, said that she has never seen such intense rain. I looked outside and noticed that the ravine was overflowing. Neighbours who were near the ravine packed soil and stone against their house to strengthen it.
It was getting darker. I saw my father, mother and grandmother gathering our valuables together. I got scared and asked, “What is happening?” My grandmother said that she was gathering a few things in case there would be a flood. I went to get my books, for I loved them more than anything and could not let them go.
It was 7:40 in the evening when suddenly we heard a neighbour scream, “The flood took everything away!” We all jumped up from our dinner and ran to the gate of the house. In the blink of an eye, the terrifying flood overwhelmed our house and swept away everything, including all our valuables.
We ran to the hills, joined by women, children, sick and old people. I was stunned and terrified by the terrible sound of the flash flood. My arms and legs became numb, I was tired and short of breath and my mouth was dry. We were still climbing up a hill when my sister shouted, “The water took away our house.” I sat down, lacking the stamina to take another step.
The water had climbed so high that no houses could be seen – they were all submerged in the flood. I could hear a commotion of voices from inside the village, many screaming, “Rescue me!” while others shouted, “Help, help, throw a rope – rescue me!” I was shocked by the screams of people and animals, trapped in the collapsing houses and buildings of the village. All around me, women and children were all crying.
Men and young boys were running in the flood waters to save loved ones, but there was little for anyone to hold onto. I was very scared as I heard people shouting in the distance. We were just crying. I had a guilty conscience because I could not do anything to save others.
Eventually our night on top of the hill became morning. No one had slept – the weather was cold and we were trembling in our cold and wet clothes. In the daylight, when the water had receded and the weather was clear, I saw a village that had been turned into ruins. There was nothing left of our house or the rest of the village – everything had been washed away by the flood.
We searched for our belongings but couldn’t find anything. With the weather getting warmer, we went to the house of our relatives, where we have been for more than a week. As soon as we leave their home, we will be homeless.
In addition to being homeless, I have terrible nightmares every night as I dream of death every night. I hear strange voices and calls for help from the flood victims. I have a nightmare in which we are swept away, my sister drowns and then I drown. Even during the daytime, when I’m alone I remember the horror of the flood, and suddenly I scream and cry.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the interviewees and writer. Zohra Ghori is the pseudonym of a freelance journalist in Afghanistan.
