The Day Mountains Shook: Remembering Kashmir Earthquake 2005

Twenty years ago today, the mountains of Kashmir roared.
At 8:50 a.m., on October 8, 2005, a 7.6 magnitude earthquake tore through Azad Jammu & Kashmir and northern Pakistan — flattening towns, silencing valleys, and rewriting countless lives.

More than 73,000 people were killed, over 3.5 million displaced, and thousands of children orphaned. Schools, hospitals, and homes crumbled within seconds. The earth had swallowed entire generations.

“I Saw His Last Breath”

Sadaf Ahsan, a survivor, remembers holding a child in her arms.

“A stone from our own roof fell upon us. It struck both of us — he was still in my arms, but he made no sound. I did see his last breath, but my heart refused to believe he had died.”

Nearby, Romela Hameed was trapped under rubble.

“I was shouting to people passing by, ‘Please help my sister too!’ I could hear her under the debris, but I couldn’t reach her.”

For Shaista Mustaffa, survival brought another kind of pain.

“When my father lifted me up, no one recognized me. I kept saying, ‘It’s me, your daughter.’ That moment still gives me deep pain.”

“The Bricks Fell Like Leaves”

Zahid Amin, former chairman of the Development Authority Muzaffarabad (DAM), recalls:

“The sound, the rumbling — it was shaking everything. The bricks were falling as if they were leaves. From the window, I saw buildings collapsing under deafening pressure.”

It wasn’t just buildings that fell — entire systems did. Hospitals were gone. Roads were severed. Communications vanished. For days, survivors dug with bare hands, pulling neighbors from under debris.

A Nation Rises

Help poured in from across Pakistan — and beyond.

Shaukat Nawaz Mir, a political activist, recalls:

“Our mothers and sisters in Pakistan took off their jewelry and sent it to the Kashmiri people; they gave away their clothes for them. How could we ever forget that?”

The Pakistan Army led rescue missions alongside NATO and U.S. forces, while Turkish and British teams brought search dogs and equipment. Volunteers from Punjab, Sindh, and Karachi arrived in caravans of compassion.

Choudhary Mohammad Akhtar, now chairman of KORT, remembers what changed his life:

“In Bagh city, I saw the orphaned children. I couldn’t ignore them. My daughter was eight then — in every orphan, I saw her face.”

Two Decades Later: Lessons Still Unlearned

The ruins have been rebuilt — but not fully, and not wisely.

According to official data:

• Over 2,700 schools were destroyed in AJK; hundreds remain unfinished even today.
• In Muzaffarabad and Neelum, 1,706 educational institutions were damaged or destroyed.
• Many reconstruction projects were quietly dropped from the 2025–26 development plan.

Raja Farooq Haider, former Prime Minister of AJK, admits:

“We learned no lessons. Buildings were supposed to stay under two stories — yet people still build five. I failed as Prime Minister.”

Ch. Latif Akbar, Speaker of the AJK Assembly, adds:

“Even now, more than 1,200 schools and health units remain incomplete. Priorities changed, attention faded.”

“We Must Never Forget”

Two decades later, survivors and rescuers share a single plea: remember.

“This nation must never forget — never — that if NATO forces and the Americans hadn’t come alongside the Pakistan Army, the situation wouldn’t have been resolved through prayers alone,” says Zahid Amin.
“But even now, we must ask — are we ready for another disaster?”

The Ground May Rest, But We Cannot

The rivers Neelum and Jhelum still flow past the scars of that day.
Children now play where tents once stood. But beneath every rebuilt wall lies memory — and a warning.

“We would never wish for any nation, not even the worst of them, to go through what we went through,” says Zahid Amin.

Because remembrance, for the people of Kashmir, is not nostalgia — it is survival.Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un.
O Allah, have mercy on our departed souls and protect our land from calamities.