On August 31, 2025, the ground shook violently beneath the rugged mountains of eastern Afghanistan, sending shockwaves that would devastate dozens of remote villages and leave an indelible mark on the region’s already fragile population. According to the United Nations, the magnitude 6.0 earthquake and its relentless aftershocks have destroyed 5,230 homes and damaged another 672 across 49 villages, forcing families to abandon their shattered communities and seek refuge in makeshift camps scattered along riverbanks and open fields.
The scale of destruction is staggering. The United Nations’ initial assessment, as reported by Devdiscourse and corroborated by on-the-ground accounts, reveals that most affected areas remain largely inaccessible. Severely damaged roads, treacherous mountain passes, and fresh landslides have hampered rescue and relief efforts, making it almost impossible for aid workers to reach the majority of the remote villages. Shannon O’Hara, the UN humanitarian coordination chief in Afghanistan, described the journey from Jalalabad—the nearest major city—to the worst-affected areas as a harrowing ordeal: a 100-kilometer drive taking over six and a half hours, often blocked by landslides and rockfalls.
As families fled the epicenter, many carried only what they could hold in their arms—sometimes just the clothes on their backs. Parents were seen clutching injured children, some bandaged and others simply exhausted, as they navigated perilous mountain paths. The devastation became more pronounced with every kilometer, houses reduced to piles of rubble and the air thick with the smell of dead livestock. For many, the trauma of the quake is compounded by the ever-present fear of aftershocks. As reported by Devdiscourse, aftershocks ranging from magnitude 5.2 to 5.6 continue to rattle the region, triggering fresh landslides and keeping survivors on edge.
“We have no shelter, not even a tent,” said Adam Khan, a 67-year-old farmer from Masud village in Kunar province, to Devdiscourse. “It rained last night, we had no place to take cover. Our biggest fear is the big rocks that could come down at any moment.” His words echo the anxiety of thousands who now refuse to return to their villages, haunted by the possibility that another tremor could send boulders crashing down from the mountains.
The numbers are grim. More than 2,200 people have lost their lives, and over 3,600 have been injured since the first quake struck. The United Nations estimates that up to 500,000 people have been affected, with more than half of them children. Many of these children are among the most vulnerable—recently returned Afghan refugees from Pakistan and Iran who now find themselves displaced once again, this time by natural disaster.
For those who survived, daily life is a struggle. Families cluster in overcrowded tents or sleep outdoors, exposed to rain and the dropping temperatures of early autumn. The tents that have been distributed, survivors say, are often too small to accommodate entire families. Shams-ur-Rahman, who lost six relatives and fled with his family of nine, described the hardship: “The tents they gave us cannot even accommodate our children. On the way down from the mountain, I had no shoes for my son, so I shared mine with him in turns as we walked down.”
Displacement, for many, seems permanent. Gul Ahmad, standing beside flapping pop-up tents, told reporters, “Even if there is no earthquake, a simple rainfall could bring rocks crashing down on us. We will not go back. The government must provide us a place.” The collective trauma is palpable, especially among children. Twelve-year-old Sadiq survived 11 hours trapped under the rubble and later recounted, “I thought I would die. It felt like doomsday.”
Humanitarian agencies have scrambled to respond, flying in food and supplies by helicopter to the most isolated pockets. Yet, the logistical challenges are immense. Many villages remain cut off, several hours from the nearest road, and aid has been slow and patchy. The United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) has been present in the affected area for five days as of September 9, 2025, but the needs are overwhelming and growing by the day.
Critical shortages of clean drinking water and proper sanitation have raised alarms about a potential cholera outbreak—a threat that looms large given that cholera is already endemic in the region. Initial assessments by the UN indicate that 92% of affected communities practice open defecation, compounding the risk. Women, in particular, have voiced urgent needs for clean water and proper clothing for themselves and their children. As winter approaches, the necessity for tents, latrines, food, and warm clothing becomes ever more pressing.
The specter of winter casts a long shadow over the relief effort. O’Hara emphasized the urgency: with rainfall threatening flash floods in the valleys where many have sought refuge, and the likelihood of further aftershocks provoking more landslides, time is running out to reach those in need. When the snows arrive, access to these mountainous regions will become even more difficult—perhaps impossible—raising fears that many may not survive the harsh conditions ahead.
Despite the immense challenges, there have been some encouraging signs. The Taliban authorities have taken the lead in search and rescue operations, and, according to the United Nations, there have been no significant barriers to humanitarian efforts. Women have not been abandoned in rescue operations, and the UN has ensured their inclusion in health teams and aid distribution. O’Hara will be briefing virtually on the humanitarian response, underscoring the international community’s commitment to supporting Afghanistan in this time of crisis.
To address the growing needs, the United Nations plans to issue an emergency appeal for funding to support earthquake survivors. Humanitarian groups warn that without adequate shelter, sanitation, and food, the trauma could spread disease and deepen poverty in what is already one of the world’s most quake-prone and impoverished countries.
As the world watches, the people of eastern Afghanistan face a long and uncertain road to recovery. Their resilience is evident, but the scale of the disaster demands an urgent and sustained response from the international community. For now, families wait—huddled in tents, bracing against the elements, and hoping that help will arrive before winter’s chill sets in for good.