Three years after Morocco earthquake, reconstruction stalls for thousands of excluded victims

Three years have passed since the earth moved beneath the Al Haouz region of Morocco on September 8, 2023, killing more than 2,900 people and injuring over 5,500. The rubble has largely been cleared. Tens of thousands of homes have been rebuilt or repaired. By the numbers, reconstruction is advancing. But in the villages scattered across the High Atlas Mountains, the story splits into two irreconcilable versions of what recovery looks like.

In Ighermane, a village about 50 kilometers southwest of Marrakech, Mohamed Ait Belaid, 72, now lives in a new house. It is smaller than the one the earthquake destroyed, but it is his. He received 80,000 dirhams—roughly €7,300—from the state and added 100,000 dirhams of his own money to complete the rebuild. He speaks of peace, of his wife and children alive and well around him, of comfort in a home he thought he had lost. Around 90 percent of Ighermane has been rebuilt. Of the village's roughly 150 families, 114 received some form of state support, though most had to contribute their own funds alongside the government aid.

Forty kilometers away, in Azgour, Larbi Ait Jelloulat, also 72, sits before a pile of rubble. This was his house. He spent years saving to build it, working as a council employee, imagining the rest of his life within its walls. The earthquake took it. The state has not rebuilt it. For three years, he has moved between government offices, filed complaints, submitted petitions. He has been told he cannot prove he was a resident of the area—a bureaucratic requirement that now stands between him and any aid. "I want to know where my rights have gone," he said. "Who took what's rightfully mine? Why have I been excluded? Am I not a Moroccan citizen?"

The gap between these two men's experiences reflects a wider fracture in Morocco's reconstruction effort. In Azgour, which was the most severely damaged village in the region, about 76 families have received help rebuilding. But 56 others are still waiting. Even those 76 families who managed to rebuild in new locations face another obstacle: they cannot connect to water and electricity. The High Atlas Development Agency, established in October 2023 to coordinate relief, reports that 54,425 homes have been built or rehabilitated and more than 3,000 are still under construction. The government has distributed more than 7.2 billion dirhams—roughly €656 million—in reconstruction funds and emergency aid payments. Yet the National Coordination for Al Haouz Earthquake Victims reports receiving complaints from more than 3,000 families who have received nothing.

The reasons for exclusion are often technical. Some families moved away to find work in other parts of the country, and their national identity cards now list them as residents of unaffected areas. Others, like Ait Jelloulat, cannot produce documentation proving they lived where they say they lived. Still others are listed as tenants rather than owners and therefore ineligible for aid. Montasser Itri, a member of the victims' coordination committee, describes the effect: "The government is trying to make us, the victims of the Al Haouz earthquake, into mere statistics linked to the progress of construction and the removal of tents, rather than treating us as human beings and with dignity."

Architect Mohamed Belmejjad, based in Marrakech, argues that the pace of reconstruction has actually been reasonable given the obstacles. The remote mountain villages are difficult to reach. Rubble had to be cleared before building could begin. Materials must be transported over long distances on poor roads. Whole villages have needed to be relocated away from landslide risks. Local building traditions must be respected. There is a shortage of architects, contractors, and skilled labor. "Given all that has happened, reconstruction could actually be considered ahead of schedule," Belmejjad said.

But for those still living in tents, the timeline feels infinite. Mohamed Belkaid, who lives in a tent in the Amizmiz area with his four children, has received no aid because he is listed as a tenant, not an owner. Fawzia Aliban, whose home in Amizmiz was damaged, was denied benefits despite her house being on the verge of collapse. Both have watched political figures appear in recent weeks, ahead of a general election scheduled for September 23, promising solutions. Both are skeptical. "They promised to review our files, asking us to trust them and to vote for them," Belkaid said. "But this is exploitation. If they truly wanted to solve the problem, they would have done so before the elections. Where have they been all these years?"

The victims' coordination committee is demanding an independent and transparent investigation into how local authorities have handled the payouts. They have organized demonstrations outside parliament buildings in Rabat. They are watching the election. For now, the divide remains: some have rebuilt and moved forward; others remain in the rubble, waiting for a bureaucracy to recognize them as citizens with a claim.