Garhi Habibullah, Pakistan – Twenty-four hours after the most powerful earthquake in the history of independent Pakistan, Gen. Pervez Musharraf, the nation’s president, made an urgent televised appeal Sunday for international aid, at least 140 aftershocks rattled survivors, and rescue crews dug, often with bare hands, for signs of the living and the dead in the rain-soaked rubble of obliterated villages.
From throughout Pakistan, a variety of estimates on the death toll poured in. By evening, Prime Minister Shaukat Aziz said 19,369 people had died and at least 43,000 had been injured, based on estimates compiled from local officials. But with much of the country still unseen by the authorities, it was impossible to settle on a definitive figure.
“There are clearly several areas which are inaccessible,” Aziz said. “Gradually, in a day or two, we will reach them.”
At least 600 people were reported killed by the quake in neighboring India, and the United Nations said 2.5 million people in the entire stricken region needed shelter.
In the forested hills close to the epicenter, the quake obliterated more than this village of Garhi Habibullah. It also took a cornerstone of hope: the Garhi Habibullah Girls High School.
In the delirious collective grief Sunday morning, there was no telling exactly how many girls were studying here, though it was safe to say that there were hundreds, not just from Garhi Habibullah, in North West Frontier Province, but from villages up to 10 miles away, for whom this was the nearest high school for girls.
There were also at least 20 women teaching here – among the most educated women in the area. The dozen men digging through the rubble of the two-story school were asked how many teachers had survived. They could come up with only one name. Saturday was a school day.
The men were scooping out what they could with little more than their hands. A few brought picks and shovels. One man carried a car jack, to try to help lift the concrete slabs. Another peered under a pile, saw a woman’s bloodied headscarf, but could do nothing to extricate it or her.
By the end of the morning, the body of a longtime teacher, named Ruksana, was pulled out, preceded by her dainty green handbag. After this, the digging crew gave up. There was nothing more they could do. When would the government send machines, they demanded to know. When would food and tents come? The village was gone, and nearly everyone had spent a rainy night in the open. Anger boiled up from anguish.
“This village has not received any sort of help,” cried Mohammed Younas, 65. “We have nothing at present with us. Only our people are trying to dig out the children who are buried and are probably dead. Probably dead.”
On Sunday, Musharraf said Pakistan desperately needed cargo helicopters to reach the remotest areas of Pakistan, medicines, and tents and blankets for the displaced. He confirmed that much of the country had not yet been reached. He confirmed, too, that Pakistan’s neighbor and historical rival, India, had offered assistance, along with a host of countries.
Musharraf said the details of India’s offer would have to be ironed out. “You do understand there’s a little bit of a sensitivity there,” he said.
The U.S. Embassy in Islamabad confirmed that eight American military helicopters were due to arrive in Pakistan today to assist with relief efforts.
Other countries around the world sent condolences and prayers, as well as money – or pledges of money – and, more immediately, search teams with dogs, medical workers and equipment, and food, water.
Emergency supplies began flowing from fellow Muslim nations, especially those, such as the United Arab Emirates, where Pakistanis make up a large chunk of the work force.
The European Commission pledged more than $4 million in emergency aid, and said the figure could grow, as individual member nations added their own more modest offers. China, a relative newcomer as a provider of emergency aid, offered $6.2 million and sent seismologists, medical workers, search dogs and supplies.
The Saturday quake, centered around the disputed frontier of Kashmir province, was the strongest quake in a century and the worst natural disaster to befall Pakistan since its formation in 1947.
The quake measured magnitude 7.6, according to the U.S. Geological Survey, and sent tremors across South Asia. Since then, at least 140 aftershocks had been recorded – several of them with a magnitude exceeding 5, according to Pakistan’s state-run media.
Standing before the fresh grave of Saima Irum, 30, her uncle, Azmat Shaheen, said that like virtually all of the educated women in the village, his niece had chosen to teach at the Garhi Habibullah Girls High School. She had taught there for a decade. She was about to get married next month. “She devoted her life for the sake of education,” Shaheen said.