On August 26, flash floods tore through Nepal with a ferocity that severed not only roads and bridges but the threads connecting families across continents. Among the thousands missing are Sumit and Shubakshi Rawla of Coquitlam, British Columbia, part of a pilgrimage group that fell silent that morning and has not been heard from since. Thirty-two Canadian citizens and permanent residents remain unaccounted for in a disaster that has claimed at least 579 lives, reminding us that the distance between the living and the lost can collapse without warning, and that waiting is its own form of survi
32 Canadians unaccounted for after Nepal flash flooding; B.C. couple among missing
Miracles do happen—but time is running out
So we have 32 Canadians unaccounted for. Do we know anything about where they were when contact was lost?
The Rawlas and Shahs were on a guided pilgrimage in the region. The tour company lost contact with them around 8:30 in the morning on August 26. That's the last anyone heard from them.
And that's the only timestamp we have? No word from any of them since then—no messages, no sightings, nothing?
Nothing. The daughter has made over 200 calls hoping for even a moment of signal to reach them.
What's the broader context here? How many people are we talking about overall?
At least 579 people are confirmed dead across Nepal. Thousands more are still missing. Some communities are completely cut off—rescue teams can't even reach them to assess the damage.
So when the government says no Canadian deaths have been confirmed, that's technically true, but it doesn't mean they're safe. It just means we don't have confirmation either way.
Exactly. The uncertainty is the hardest part for families.
What is Canada actually doing?
Five million dollars in aid, five consular officials on the ground. But families are asking for more—they want dedicated rescue teams deployed.
And has Canada committed to that?
Not yet. The minister said they're providing support, but the families feel it's insufficient given the scale of the disaster.
What do people do while they wait?
They call. They search for information. They lean on community. The Nepal Cultural Society of B.C. is offering emotional support. Beyond that, there's very little concrete action available.
O Pulso
- Flash floods struck Nepal on August 26, killing at least 579 people and leaving thousands missing, including a Coquitlam couple and their Port Moody companions who vanished mid-pilgrimage.
- Thirty-two Canadian citizens and permanent residents are unaccounted for, with families making hundreds of unanswered calls into a silence that grows heavier with each passing hour.
- Infrastructure destruction is so severe that rescue teams cannot reach some affected areas, and mud has buried even the main border crossing into China.
- Canada has pledged $5 million in aid and dispatched five consular officials, but families are demanding more — specifically, the deployment of dedicated Canadian rescue teams on the ground.
- With no confirmed Canadian deaths but no confirmed survivors either, families are suspended in an agonizing uncertainty, sustained only by community support and the fragile hope that miracles remain possible.
On August 26, flash floods tore through Nepal with a ferocity that severed not only roads and bridges but the threads connecting families across continents. Among the thousands missing are Sumit and Shubakshi Rawla of Coquitlam, British Columbia, part of a pilgrimage group that fell silent that morning and has not been heard from since. Thirty-two Canadian citizens and permanent residents remain unaccounted for in a disaster that has claimed at least 579 lives, reminding us that the distance between the living and the lost can collapse without warning, and that waiting is its own form of survival.
On the morning of August 26, a guided pilgrimage group in Nepal went silent. Among those who disappeared were Sumit and Shubakshi Rawla from Coquitlam, British Columbia, and their traveling companions Dhaval and Megha Shah from Port Moody. The flash floods that swept through Nepal that day have since killed at least 579 people, with thousands more unaccounted for. The Rawlas and Shahs are now counted among 32 Canadian citizens and permanent residents whose whereabouts remain unknown.
Their daughter Kenisha has made more than 200 calls to her parents since the disaster, each one a small act of hope. The tour company lost contact with the group around 8:30 that morning, and nothing has been heard since. The uncertainty, she told reporters, is its own kind of torment.
Reports from Nepal paint a picture of catastrophic destruction. Mud and debris have buried the landscape near the main border crossing into China, and entire communities further inland remain cut off. Corus International's chief humanitarian officer noted that rescue teams cannot even reach some areas to assess the damage.
Canada's response has included a $5 million humanitarian commitment and five consular officials dispatched to assist with coordination. Foreign Affairs Minister Anita Anand noted that no Canadian deaths have been confirmed — a distinction that offers little comfort to waiting families. Kenisha Rawla has called directly on the Canadian government to send dedicated rescue teams, knowing that other Canadian families are enduring the same anguish.
For those still waiting, there are few concrete actions available beyond making calls that may not connect and drawing strength from community. Gaurav Subedi of the Nepal Cultural Society of British Columbia offered what sustenance he could: emotional support, solidarity, and a quiet conviction that miracles do happen. Whether any will reach the 32 Canadians still missing depends on the reach of rescue efforts and on time — a resource growing more precious with every hour.
On the morning of August 26, a guided pilgrimage group in Nepal lost all contact with the outside world. Among those who vanished were Sumit and Shubakshi Rawla, a couple from Coquitlam, British Columbia, along with their traveling companions Dhaval and Megha Shah from Port Moody. The flash flooding that swept through the region that day has since claimed at least 579 lives, with thousands more still unaccounted for across Nepal. The Rawlas and Shahs are now part of a larger accounting of loss: 32 Canadian citizens and permanent residents whose whereabouts remain unknown.
Their daughter, Kenisha Rawla, has spent the days since the disaster in a state of desperate searching. She and her sister have made more than 200 phone calls to their parents, each one a small act of hope—a chance that a moment of cellular signal might allow them to hear a voice, to know that someone is alive. "We've been so worried," she told reporters. The uncertainty is its own kind of torment. The tour company lost contact with the group around 8:30 that morning, and since then, nothing. No word of where they are, whether they are sheltering somewhere, whether they are injured, whether they are at all.
The scale of the disaster has become clearer as reports filter out from Nepal. The destruction is visible even at the country's main border crossing into China, where mud and debris have buried the landscape. Further inland, entire communities have been cut off from the outside world. Tamara Demuria, the chief humanitarian officer for Corus International, described the severity plainly: rescue teams cannot even reach some areas to assess what remains. The damage extends far beyond what initial reports suggested.
Canada's response has been measured but limited. Foreign Affairs Minister Anita Anand emphasized on Friday that while 32 Canadians are unaccounted for, no Canadian deaths have been confirmed—a distinction that offers little comfort to families still waiting. The federal government has committed $5 million in humanitarian aid and is sending five consular officials to Nepal to assist with the search and coordination efforts. But for families like the Rawlas, it is not enough. Kenisha Rawla has called directly for Canada to deploy dedicated rescue teams to the region. "We really want to push the Canadian government to help by sending rescue teams," she said, "because we know there's so many Canadians there too, and their families must be worried sick like we are."
For those still waiting—separated from loved ones by geography and disaster—the path forward is unclear. There are few concrete actions available to families beyond making calls that may never connect, searching for information in a landscape of uncertainty, and drawing strength from community. Gaurav Subedi, with the Nepal Cultural Society of British Columbia, spoke to what sustains people in such moments: emotional support, the presence of others who understand the weight of not knowing. He offered a final thought, almost a prayer: "Miracles do happen." Whether any will occur for the 32 Canadians still missing depends on conditions on the ground in Nepal, the reach of rescue efforts, and time—a resource that grows more precious with each passing hour.
Citações Notáveis
Me and my sister personally have made over 200 phone calls to our parents just hoping that even for a moment if they get a second of signal they can contact us.— Kenisha Rawla, daughter of missing Coquitlam couple
We really want to push the Canadian government to help by sending rescue teams because we know there's so many Canadians there too, and their families must be worried sick like we are.— Kenisha Rawla