8th October 2005 – The Morning of the Earthquake
The morning air was crisp with a slight breeze, the sun peeking over the snow-capped mountains of Muzaffarabad. Aminah, a 10-year-old girl with neatly tied braids and a blue school uniform, walked briskly along the familiar dusty path to her school.
She wasn’t feeling her best—her stomach hurt, and she had begged her mother for just a few more minutes in bed. But she was adamant to go. It was a Friday, the blessed day fo Jummah, and she had a test.
As she approached the school gates, she heard the usual morning chatter—children laughing, teachers calling students into their classrooms, and the distant sound of shopkeepers setting up for the day. It was just like any other morning.
Until it wasn’t.
At 8:50 AM local time, the earth beneath her feet suddenly let out a deep, guttural roar—like a wounded beast awakening from its slumber.
The ground lurched violently.
Aminah lost her balance and fell. The sky, once clear, was suddenly filled with dust, screams, and the deafening sound of buildings crumbling.
The Earthquake: A Catastrophe Unfolds
It was a 7.6 magnitude earthquake, one of the deadliest in South Asia’s history. The epicenter was near Muzaffarabad, Azad Kashmir, Pakistan, but tremors were felt as far as India and Afghanistan. Within seconds, entire villages ceased to exist.
Aminah’s school—a simple two-story building—collapsed before her eyes. Walls cracked like fragile glass, bricks rained down like deadly hail, and the once-standing structure was now a heap of rubble.
She screamed, scrambling to her feet. Her classmates were inside.
Some of them never made it out.
She saw a little hand—small, delicate, unmoving—peeking from beneath the broken walls. A blue scarf fluttered in the dust-filled air.
Tears streamed down her face.
She ran.
Ran back towards home, dodging the shaking, splintering world around her. People screamed for their loved ones, running in all directions. A mosque’s minaret swayed dangerously before crashing onto the street below. Roads cracked open, swallowing everything in their path.
The mountains that once stood proudly now crumbled, triggering deadly landslides.
When she reached what used to be her neighborhood, her home was gone.
The Aftermath: A Nation in Ruins
In just a few minutes, nearly 100,000 people lost their lives. More than 3.5 million were left homeless. Entire families were wiped out. Cities and villages, once full of life, became graveyards of rubble and dust.
Aminah wandered through the ruins, screaming for her mother. But there was no answer. Just silence.
The air smelled of dust, broken bricks, and something else—something heavier. The scent of loss, of death, of a tragedy too vast to comprehend.
Hope Amongst the Ruins
As night fell, the cold crept in. The survivors huddled together, some crying, some whispering prayers. Aminah sat beside an elderly woman who had lost all her children. She clutched a small Quran to her chest, reciting verses in a trembling voice.
Rescue teams arrived, digging through the wreckage with bare hands, desperate to find life beneath the ruins.
And then—a cry.
A miracle.
A baby girl was found alive, pulled from the debris after over 24 hours. Her parents were gone, but she had survived.
That baby was given the name Noor—because even in the darkest of nights, there was still light.
Aminah held onto that hope, even as she lay on the cold, unforgiving ground, staring up at a sky that no longer felt safe.
The Road to Recovery
The earthquake shattered more than just buildings—it shattered lives, dreams, and entire communities. But it also revealed something powerful: resilience.
People across Pakistan and the world rushed to help. Relief tents sprang up like small cities, food and medical aid poured in, and strangers became family.
Aminah never found her mother. Her father, who had been at work, survived. Together, they rebuilt their lives, brick by brick, memory by memory.
Her school was never the same. But Aminah? She grew stronger.
Years later, she returned—not as a student, but as a teacher.
Because if there’s one thing the earthquake taught her, it’s that no matter how much the earth shakes, no matter how much we lose, we must always rise again.
Never Forget
8th October 2005 wasn’t just an earthquake. It was a moment frozen in time, a scar on the heart of every survivor. Today, Aminah’s story is the story of thousands—of loss, survival, and resilience. Some wounds never fully heal. But in the face of tragedy, the human spirit remains unbreakable.
And that is the true story of the day the earth shook.
Aminah is now a volunteer for Kashmir Welfare Foundation, she overlooks our projects in Northern Kashmir along with her family and friends. Aminah still remembers that day as if it were yesterday. This was Aminah’s story of survival. This is a real-life account of what happened on that day.
Get Prepared
Aminah knows that this could happen again, and thats why she wants to encourage you to help us get prepared for this in advance.
