Two days after a magnitude 6.9 earthquake struck her hometown in the central Philippines, Arguel Estalicas says she still feels dizzy every time she stands up. That spinning feeling, coupled with a string of aftershocks, has left the 35-year-old tourism officer and many other survivors too scared to return to their homes, forcing them to live in tents temporarily.
The earthquake shook the northern coast of Cebu, one of the country's most populous islands, on the night of 30 September, jolting many out of their sleep. It killed at least 68 people and wounded more than 500 others, as homes, buildings, and churches collapsed and roads cracked.
I still couldn't process what has happened to us, Ms. Estalicas tells the BBC. I am overwhelmed with the things we experienced in the last two days. The earthquake displaced nearly 80,000 people across Cebu and nearby provinces, affecting a major trading and transportation hub.
Ms. Estalicas recalls the terrifying moment when the earthquake struck: she got out of bed screaming and ran outdoors with her family. They spent the night sleeping under the open sky, using plastic bags for warmth when rain began to fall.
Elsewhere, in San Remigio municipality, Lourenze Pareja spent the night outside too. In a desperate display of connection, he livestreamed the chaos on social media as neighbors fled their homes, illustrating the moment as What was once a vibrant city has turned into a ghost town.
Authorities are working to provide food, restore power, communication, and clear roads of debris. However, daily necessities remain a pressing concern for many. Survivors continue to call for help to ease the immediate challenges posed by the earthquake, with much-needed supplies such as water and food being critically low.
The Philippines is vulnerable to natural disasters, situated on the geologically unstable Ring of Fire. This earthquake marks one of the strongest and deadliest in recent years, with Cebu's northern region still reeling from the aftermath of Super Typhoon Haiyan a decade ago.
Despite these challenges, survivors remain hopeful, leaning into the spirit of bayanihan, or community support, emphasizing a collective resolve to recover and rebuild.
The earthquake shook the northern coast of Cebu, one of the country's most populous islands, on the night of 30 September, jolting many out of their sleep. It killed at least 68 people and wounded more than 500 others, as homes, buildings, and churches collapsed and roads cracked.
I still couldn't process what has happened to us, Ms. Estalicas tells the BBC. I am overwhelmed with the things we experienced in the last two days. The earthquake displaced nearly 80,000 people across Cebu and nearby provinces, affecting a major trading and transportation hub.
Ms. Estalicas recalls the terrifying moment when the earthquake struck: she got out of bed screaming and ran outdoors with her family. They spent the night sleeping under the open sky, using plastic bags for warmth when rain began to fall.
Elsewhere, in San Remigio municipality, Lourenze Pareja spent the night outside too. In a desperate display of connection, he livestreamed the chaos on social media as neighbors fled their homes, illustrating the moment as What was once a vibrant city has turned into a ghost town.
Authorities are working to provide food, restore power, communication, and clear roads of debris. However, daily necessities remain a pressing concern for many. Survivors continue to call for help to ease the immediate challenges posed by the earthquake, with much-needed supplies such as water and food being critically low.
The Philippines is vulnerable to natural disasters, situated on the geologically unstable Ring of Fire. This earthquake marks one of the strongest and deadliest in recent years, with Cebu's northern region still reeling from the aftermath of Super Typhoon Haiyan a decade ago.
Despite these challenges, survivors remain hopeful, leaning into the spirit of bayanihan, or community support, emphasizing a collective resolve to recover and rebuild.
