Faces of Freetown: Grief and Hope After the Mudslide

Seven-month-old Mariatu was recovering from an illness at a children’s hospital when a powerful mudslide swept through her community in Freetown. She and her mother owe that illness their lives: They lost their home and the rest of their family in the disaster.

What if a decision to spend the night away from home ended up saving your life?

That was the case for Fatmata, an 11-year-old girl from Sierra Leone, who had been living with her Aunt Marie in Freetown after losing both parents in the Ebola epidemic of 2014. The week before a deadly mudslide and severe flooding struck her neighborhood, Kamayama, Fatmata was preparing to enter the sixth grade. Her aunt wanted her to brush up on her academic skills before school started up again in September, so on Aug. 13, Fatmata traveled to nearby Kaningo for a brief summer school session with a tutor. On Aug. 14, she heard the news that Aunt Marie and her entire family had died in the mudslide.

Right now, Fatmata is in the temporary care of her tutor’s wife, but it’s a bewildering situation for everyone involved. With her tutor’s meager wages — and no known living relatives to take her in — it’s uncertain what her future holds.

Mudslide survivors at an emergency response camp outside Freetown. Overcrowding and lack of privacy are prime concerns at these camps, which are serving as temporary shelters for thousands of displaced people.

Six-year-old Alie was visiting his grandmother, Emmah, a few miles away when the mudslide swept through his neighborhood. Since he lost the rest of his family, she will now serve as his primary caregiver. “I am not sure of any goodness for me and my grandson after we leave this camp,” Emmah says.

Stories like this aren’t unusual among children affected by the disaster, which killed hundreds and displaced thousands more in Sierra Leone’s congested capital city. ChildFund’s emergency field staff in Sierra Leone, who continue to provide aid to families living in overcrowded conditions in the two emergency camps designated for mudslide survivors, have met a few children whose unlikely tales of survival border on the miraculous.

Daniel, a fourth-grader, was at home with his mother and siblings on the morning of Aug. 14; his father had left in the early hours for his job as a taxi driver. Just before 7 a.m., Daniel says, the earth began to tremble. Minutes later the mud surged into his community, rushing through the home and taking the family under.

When rescue workers discovered him, Daniel was unconscious, half-buried in mud and seriously injured, with one leg completely smashed. The rescuers rushed him to the hospital, and the leg was amputated to save his life. It wasn’t until a week later that Daniel’s father learned his son was still alive. Funerals had already been held for the rest of the family.

Three-year-old Rugiatu, who was on a short trip with her teenage aunt on the morning of Aug. 14, pauses at the door of an emergency response tent. Except for her aunt, Rugiatu’s entire family was killed in the mudslide.

ChildFund staff and volunteers receive training in an emergency response tent at Freetown.

Over a month after the disaster, as Sierra Leonean authorities work to recover damaged infrastructure and find permanent shelter for survivors, parts of Freetown remain a wilderness of devastation, caked with lingering mud and reeling with grief. Anxiety hangs over the emergency camps, which face a government mandate to close in mid-November irrespective of the status of survivors.

Life shuffles on for them, but wearily. Pregnant and nursing mothers worry for the future. Small children toddle uncertainly around the white tents. Older children wonder when they will get to go back to school.

Families receive blankets through ChildFund’s partner organization.

ChildFund is working in Sierra Leone to make sure these children’s needs don’t melt into the background, especially their need for extra protection in this chaotic time. To support our ongoing efforts, visit our emergency response page.