When the 5.8 magnitude earthquake struck Chipursan Valley, high in Pakistan’s Gilgit-Baltistan region, it was not only houses that collapsed. In a matter of seconds, an entire community was pushed into uncertainty and displacement in the middle of winter.
Chipursan is home to around 4,000 people. Today, nearly 90 percent of the population is displaced, living in tents scattered across the valley. Around 600 houses have been damaged, at least 300 of them beyond repair.
After the earthquake, continuous aftershocks have made it impossible for residents to return home, forcing a full evacuation of many villages. Five people were injured, including two children who are now being treated at the
hospital in Gilgit. One fatality was reported in neighboring Ishkoman. Beyond Chipursan, the full extent of damage remains unclear, as assessments in surrounding areas are still ongoing.
GIS Specialist, Muhammad Anjum, points to deeper geological causes. Chipursan lies along a fault line near the boundary of the Eurasian and Indian tectonic plates. Residents report hearing underground rumbling and blast-like sounds for several months prior to the earthquake, suggesting the fault may have become active after a long dormant period. This was reported, but no actions had been taken. “While the earthquake itself was moderate in magnitude, its impact here was severe due to weak infrastructure, limited engineering, and the valley’s isolation. Continued tremors indicate that the area remains unstable, and further aftershocks remain possible”, says Muhammad Anjum. The epicenter is believed to lie somewhere near the Yeshkuk area, close to Zoodkhun
For families here, the loss goes far beyond physical structures. Alam Jan, a resident of Chipursan, stands near his collapsed home, now uninhabitable. “If we see war, we feel sadness,” he says quietly. “But this is something else. This is life, this is nature.
” Rebuilding, he explains, will take years. “A house here is not just walls and a roof. It carries our culture.
The whole community contributes to building it.” Now living in a tent, Allam Jan worries not only about survival, but about what prolonged displacement might do to people’s minds.
“Staying in tents for months can break us mentally,” he says. “Some people may turn deeply inward, maybe toward religion, just to cope.” Despite the hardship, leaving is not an option for him. “This is my community. If I leave, who will stay strong for them?” His wife, Haj Bibi, looks at the rubble that once was their home. “We spent our entire lives building this house,” she says. “Everything we had is buried there.”
Winter has turned the disaster into a race against time. Temperatures drop sharply at night, and many fear illness spreading through the camps. Ahmed Jami, chairman of the Ismaili Tariqah and Religious Education Board in Chipursan, says the community was unprepared for a disaster of this scale. “This is the first time we are facing something like this,” he explains.
“The cold makes people vulnerable, especially children and women. Ideally, we would move them to lower valleys where conditions are less harsh.” But relocation is complicated. “Many families depend on livestock. Leaving means abandoning their only source of livelihood.” Permanent shelters are currently not an option, he adds, as weather conditions and terrain make construction nearly impossible.
For children, the fear has been overwhelming. A young boy from Zoodkhun, one of the hardest-hit villages, recalls the moment the earthquake struck. “I heard the mountains crashing,” he says. “I was ice skating and ran back as fast as I could. When I reached home, a big pillar had fallen inside the house.” Now sleeping in a tent, he shivers constantly. “It’s so cold. I’m scared all the time that the earthquake will happen again. If we stay here, I feel like we will die.
”Medical teams visiting the area are increasingly concerned about psychological trauma. A doctor from Passu, says the impact is especially visible among children. “What we are seeing is a very high level of mental distress,” the doctor explains. “Children are anxious, and unable to sleep.” To address this, the team has brought a psychologist along. “Our goal is not only to treat physical issues, but to help calm people, to give them a sense of safety, even if only for a short time.”
Relief has begun to arrive, though it remains limited compared to the scale of displacement. The Aga Khan Agency for Habitat has distributed around 400 tents, along with food and blankets, while the Gilgit-Baltistan government has provided 100 additional tents. Food remains a pressing need, as much of it was buried under the rubble of collapsed houses. In the absence of a sustainable government solution, many families currently depend on support from neighboring communities and local volunteers.
As aftershocks continue to ripple through the mountains, Chipursan remains in limbo: a valley waiting for stability, warmth, and the long process of rebuilding not just homes, but a way of life shaped over generations.
