One year after landslides, Wayanad shows the world lessons in survival, human love

Wayanad (Kerala): Last year, the morning of July 29 was as normal as any other day for the people of Chooralmala and Mundakkai in this hill district.

Apart from the pouring rain, it was business as usual in this stunningly beautiful hillside, a highly sought-after tourist destination.

Everything changed in a flash the next day, on July 30, and the once-favourite tourist spot became an open grave overnight.

One year after the most severe natural calamity Kerala had ever witnessed, Mundakkai and Chooralmala remain ghost towns, with only a few houses intact.

There are no people here, except for a tribal family of three, who still live in the area.

Though the wounds of this disaster -- which claimed 298 lives and wiped out everything that stood on the ground -- seem unlikely ever to heal, Mundakkai and Chooralmala also tell remarkable stories of survival, resilience, and Kerala’s unity in the face of an unprecedented disaster.

With work on a township envisaged by the state government for the rehabilitation of landslide survivors progressing-- and with many complaints and political accusations being raised against it -- some stories of the survivors offer hope and reflect the resilience of the people of Wayanad in moving forward with their lives.

Naufal, who lost 11 members of his family in the landslide, is one of many examples from disaster‑torn Chooralmala.

Having lost everyone in his family, he has now started a hotel in Meppadi, aptly naming it 'July 30' in memory of the day he lost all his loved ones.

Naufal was abroad at work when the disaster struck, wiping away everything he had-- his family, his house, and the land he owned in Mundakkai.

He could not return to his workplace, as it was too much for him to overcome the trauma and leave the place where his family members were buried alive.

"My family always wished that I would start a hotel in our area. Now, with the help of good Samaritans, I have managed to open a small hotel to fulfil their wish," Naufal told PTI Videos.

A similar story is that of five children who were orphaned in the disaster and are now gradually returning to normal life, pursuing their education under the Kinship Foster Care Programme, which allows close relatives to care for these children with government support.

Child welfare officers who frequently visit them say the children often recall their parents, with the trauma yet to fully leave them.

However, they are becoming accustomed to their new caretakers and are happy at their schools.

In the immediate aftermath of the disaster, there were hundreds of requests to adopt these orphaned children.

However, the government decided not to place them for adoption, instead enrolling them in the Kinship Foster Care Programme so they could remain with familiar caretakers -- their close relatives.

Though many stories of survivors are inspiring, some reveal the cruel effects of disasters on human lives.

Before the disaster struck, Mundakkai and Chooralmala had a reasonably settled, financially sound community.

The people here, who once held decent land holdings, lost everything and are now unable to reclaim their land for construction, as the government permits only farming activities.

This has turned many from wealthy to penniless in a single day.

The story of Annayan is one such example. Once earning an annual income of about Rs 25 lakh from his two‑acre farmland and the rent from buildings he owned, he now works as an autorickshaw driver for a meagre wage of Rs 200 a day.

He blames the revenue authorities for his present plight, alleging that all his attempts to reclaim his land for cultivation have failed.

"Either let me farm on my land and live, or acquire my land and give me compensation," is Annayan's request to the government.

Annayan had worked as a farm supervisor in a private estate before leaving his job to focus on his coffee farming and other businesses.

However, everything he owned was wiped out on July 30 last year in the devastating landslide.

Annayan says he has repeatedly approached the revenue authorities, requesting permission to remove the fallen trees and restart cultivation, but no such permission has been granted.

He now lives in a rented house in Meppadi and, seeing his struggles, some kind-hearted individuals have donated an autorickshaw to him.

However, Annayan was granted a permit to operate the auto only in Kalpetta town, 12 kilometres away from his residence.

One year on, Annayan still remembers the terrifying moments when he awoke to a loud noise.

"I woke up at 1.30 am to a loud noise. We first thought it was a wild elephant. But then, suddenly, water began gushing in, breaking the sugarcane fence I had. Around 3.30 am, we heard loud cries, and we realised many houses around us had been wiped out.

"My house was washed away in the second landslide. Eighty bodies were recovered from my land alone. Among the farmers in this locality, three others and I were the most affected," Annayan recalls.