When the 5.8 magnitude earthquake struck the Chipursan Valley—perched high in the Gilgit-Baltistan region of Pakistan

Noori Bakht from chipurson, Zood Khun standing in front of her destroyed home. | Picture Credit_ Laura Riis

After the Earthquake: Chipursan Waits in the Cold

By Laura Riis 

When the 5.8 magnitude earthquake struck the Chipursan Valley—perched high in the Gilgit-Baltistan region of Pakistan—it took only seconds for lives to be upended. Houses that had stood for generations crumbled, and in an instant, an entire community of 4,000 people was pushed into a state of displacement in the dead of winter.

Nearly 90% of the population is now living in tents. Outside, the temperatures have plunged to -20°C. As aftershocks continue to rattle the earth, the people of Chipursan are locked in a desperate race against time and the elements.

Bibi Moujin from chipurson, Zood Khun standing in front of her destroyed home. | Picture Credit_ Laura Riis

For the residents of Chipursan, the loss is not just measured in stone and mortar. Alam Jan, a local resident, stands by the ruins of his home. "If we see war, we feel sadness," he says quietly. "But this is something else. This is life; this is nature."

To Alam Jan and his neighbors, a house is more than shelter—it is a vessel for their culture. "The whole community contributes to building a home," he explains. Now, living in a tent, he worries about the mental toll of prolonged displacement. "Staying in tents for months can break us mentally. Some may turn deeply inward just to cope."

His wife, Haj Bibi, looks at the debris where their belongings remain buried. "We spent our entire lives building this house. Everything we had is there."

Kum Kum, a young girl from Chipursan, looks outside her destroyed room after the earthquake hit. Picture by author

Three years ago, I met a young girl from Chipursan. At the time, she was the best in her class, full of dreams for the future. When I spoke to her recently, her voice was different—heavy with a fear no child should carry.

"I’m scared all the time that the earthquake will happen again," she told me. "It’s so cold in the tents. If we stay here, I feel like we will die."

A young boy from Zoodkhun, one of the hardest-hit villages, recalls the moment the mountains seemed to crash down. He was ice skating when the ground shook; he ran home only to find a massive pillar had fallen through his house. Now, he shivers constantly, terrified of the next tremor.

Children from Zood Khun Inthe front of Tents

GIS Specialist Muhammad Anjum points to deeper geological causes for the devastation. Chipursan lies along a volatile fault line near the boundary of the Eurasian and Indian tectonic plates. While the magnitude was moderate, the impact was catastrophic due to the valley’s isolation and weak infrastructure.

The cold has turned this disaster into a medical emergency. Ahmed Jami, chairman of the Ismaili Tariqah and Religious Education Board, notes that the community was unprepared for a disaster of this scale. "The cold makes people vulnerable, especially children and women," he says. Moving to lower, warmer valleys is the ideal solution, but for many, it is impossible. Their livestock—their only source of livelihood—cannot be moved, and leaving them behind means losing everything.

Tent from Aga khan Agency for Habitat given due to earthquake in Chipursan, damaging 600 houses, displacing thousands Picture by author

Donate

Winter has turned the Chipursan Valley into a test of human endurance. Rebuilding will take years, but the immediate need is survival. We are working to provide warmth, food, and medical support to families who have lost everything.

Just ten euros can provide a heating system or a week’s worth of food for a small family. In a place where the ground won’t stop shaking and the air is freezing, your support is more than just aid—it is hope.