We returned to the flooded area of Dak Lak just as the last rains had stopped, to find the ground still dripping with water and the cold mud seeping into the skin of the passersby. The wind was no longer howling, but the most shocking thing was the terrifying silence of the places that only yesterday were villages, fields and the familiar lives of thousands of people.
The houses collapsed as if someone had broken them in half. The wooden walls were blackened, the corrugated iron roofs were twisted, and the ancestral altars lay buried in mud and rubble. Not a sound of people. Not even the barking of dogs. Only the sloshing of sandals as the owners tried to dig out each deformed object that they themselves were not sure they could recognize.
Mr. Nguyen Xuan Quang, 53 years old, residing in Hoa Thinh commune.
Mr. Nguyen Xuan Quang (53 years old), residing in Hoa Thinh commune, stood petrified in front of his house that had been swept away by the flood, leaving only rubble. He spoke as if speaking to himself: " My wife and I worked our whole lives to have this house... Now we don't even have a pot to cook rice." No one knew what words could comfort him.
We asked him how he and his wife made a living before the flood, and if they could still do so now. He turned away without answering, as if to hide his helpless eyes.
His wife stood next to him and answered for him: "My husband and I are farmers. We just finished harvesting the last rice crop, we got 700kg, we were saving it to wait for a better price to sell, but the flood washed it all away. In addition, our flock of 200 ducks and nearly 100 chickens were also swept away by the flood. We borrowed money for the seeds. Now we've lost everything, and we're in debt too."
The dilapidated house at his feet was also built by the couple with borrowed money more than 10 years ago. It used to be Mr. Quang’s pride to have a solid home for his wife and children, but now it is all in ruins.
His life's work collapsed under his feet.
"The flood has receded. I'm alive. But I don't dare think about how I'll live anymore!", Mr. Quang sighed. Then, he pointed to the duck pen's exposed foundation: "I'll probably build a hut there, make a place to crawl in and out, and then think about it. For the past week, I've had to sleep at the neighbor's house."
Not far from Mr. Quang’s house, we met a young man with red eyes, standing in a daze before the portrait of his parents that had just been hastily erected from the rubble. His name was Nguyen Huu Ha, 34 years old. He said his life had never been as hopeless as it was now.
"That night the flood came, I only had time to run to my neighbor's house to save my life. Luckily my wife went to her parents' house to give birth, otherwise the rest of the family would not have dared to imagine what would have happened," he said.
Mr. Nguyen Huu Ha, 34 years old, living in Hoa Thinh commune.
Looking at the rubble under his feet, we did not dare to ask any more questions. As for him, as if to break the thick silence, he said with a smile: "The volunteers gave us a lot of instant noodles, so we don't have to worry about hunger. My wife and children will have to rely on my grandmother."
"And then?" - we asked . He was silent for a few seconds, then gave us a heartbreaking answer: "Sent the child to his grandmother, the couple went to Ho Chi Minh City to work as factory workers. If lucky, they would save up money, and later come back to rebuild the house; if not, they would consider it enough to eat and drink every day."
We met Ms. Truong Thi Ngoc Kim Cuong, 30 years old, her face still wet with tears after many sleepless nights. During the flood , by some miracle that she herself cannot explain, she pulled her two children up to the roof and survived. Her eldest child is 9 years old, the other is just 2 months old.
Ms. Truong Thi Ngoc Kim Cuong, 30 years old, residing in Hoa Thinh commune.
She pointed to the house with only frames, the inside collapsed and empty: "My husband went to work far away. At night, when the flood came, I only had time to carry the cow up the stairs to the attic. When the water filled the attic, I removed the tiles and crawled across the roof. My daughter cried out, saying it was so cold, Mom. My 2-month-old son gradually turned purple. I dare not think back to that moment."
Her voice was trembling, but her eyes were still speaking. The terrible flood not only destroyed the house but also the youth, the strength of the people, and the efforts of saving every penny for ten years.
In the distance, men stood silently, watching the bloated cows lying on the field. One by one, they lay sprawled, their fur still covered with dirt. Cows were the biggest asset of many poor households here, their capital, their livelihood, the only thing they could think of for the future. Now they all lay still as if it were the end.
One person said as if coming from the bottom of his throat: "Then how will we feed and educate our children?"
At the relief distribution point, people jostled each other wearily. Not because anyone was greedy, but because everyone was desperate. A kilo of rice at this time would not only be food but it would be something to hold them back from the abyss of hunger that loomed right before their eyes.
Hoa Thinh was devastated after the flood. People were helpless and started with negative numbers.
An old man over 75 years old, his back so bent that he had to lean on a cane to stand up straight, bit his lip and said: “I have lived through three big floods, but none of them have washed away everything like this. So clean that there is nothing left to regret. The elderly can still endure. But what about the children? How will they grow up in this empty space that has just been washed away to the bottom by the flood?”
No one answered him. And frankly, we couldn't answer either, even though the flood had passed.
Thy Hue - Nhu Thuy
Source: https://vtcnews.vn/nguoi-dan-dak-lak-sau-tran-lut-lich-su-song-roi-nhung-song-tiep-the-nao-ar989457.html
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