There are still people alive in there.
Three days after two powerful earthquakes struck Venezuela in rapid succession, the confirmed death toll has reached 1,430, with nearly 69,000 people still unaccounted for. In the coastal state of La Guaira, where the destruction was most severe, the critical window for finding survivors alive was closing by Saturday — and it was ordinary citizens, not the state, who had been doing most of the digging. The disaster has laid bare the fragility of a nation already weakened by years of economic collapse and political fracture, arriving at a moment when its new government had yet to earn the trust of the people it was now failing to protect.
- The 72-hour survival window was closing Saturday, and thousands of people remained buried beneath collapsed concrete with no confirmed sign of life.
- Civilians armed with shovels, ropes, and bare hands carried out most of the rescue work while government forces were largely absent from the hardest-hit zones despite official claims of 14,000 personnel deployed.
- International teams from the United States, Mexico, Brazil, France, and El Salvador arrived Saturday, but they were entering a crisis already past its most critical hours.
- Simón Bolívar International Airport, badly damaged by the quakes, was reduced to a single operational runway, creating a dangerous bottleneck for incoming aid and medical evacuations.
- Political mistrust compounded the humanitarian crisis, as Acting President Delcy Rodríguez's government — already viewed as illegitimate by many Venezuelans — struggled to project competence or presence in the disaster zone.
Three days after a 7.2 and then a 7.5 magnitude earthquake struck Venezuela in quick succession, the confirmed death toll had reached 1,430 by Saturday morning, with nearly 69,000 people still unaccounted for. La Guaira, the coastal state north of Caracas, bore the worst of the destruction. By Saturday, the 72-hour survival window that rescue workers know as the threshold of hope was closing fast.
What defined the response in those first days was not the government, but the people. Across flattened neighborhoods, it was civilians — neighbors, strangers, families — who took shovels, heavy equipment, and their bare hands to the rubble. Acting President Delcy Rodríguez announced on state television that more than 14,000 military and police personnel were deployed, but the gap between that claim and what people on the ground witnessed fueled deep anger. International rescue teams from the United States, Mexico, Brazil, France, and El Salvador began arriving Saturday, though they came late into a crisis that had already claimed over a thousand lives.
The human toll was written on the streets of La Guaira. Ezequiel Frontado stood over a row of blanket-covered bodies, searching for his missing relatives. Nazareth Jiménez sobbed as neighbors cut through concrete slabs with hammers, pleading for heavy machinery. Yuleidy Cadenas, 28, had fled barefoot as her building collapsed on Wednesday; her mother's 12-story tower had pancaked. She climbed the rubble and called out — her brother, her son, her mother — and no one answered. Omar Reyes, who lost around 20 family members, walked through the debris where two of his children were buried. "I've been left alone in this life," he said.
The scale extended far beyond the death toll. The International Organization for Migration estimated up to 6.76 million people could be affected, including some 2 million in Caracas alone. Simón Bolívar International Airport was badly damaged, with only one runway operational as U.S. teams worked to restore it — a critical bottleneck for aid and medical evacuations. A U.S. Navy transport ship was positioned offshore, ready to receive the most severely injured. By Friday, more than 3,300 people had been reported injured and 243 rescued.
The disaster arrived at a politically precarious moment. Rodríguez had taken office in January following the removal of Nicolás Maduro, inheriting a country already in economic freefall and deep institutional distrust. The government's visible unpreparedness in the disaster zone compounded the tragedy with fury. In some areas, traffic and motorcycle noise disrupted rescue operations as Mexican soldiers and volunteers pleaded for silence to listen for signs of life. The window was closing, and Venezuela was running out of time.
Three days after two earthquakes tore through Venezuela—first a 7.2, then a 7.5—the confirmed death toll had climbed to 1,430 by Saturday morning. Nearly 69,000 people remained unaccounted for. In La Guaira, the state north of Caracas that bore the worst of the damage, the search for survivors had become a race against a biological clock that aid workers know runs out fast. The first 48 to 72 hours after a major earthquake are the window when people trapped under rubble still have a fighting chance. By Saturday, that window was closing.
What struck observers most was who was doing the digging. Across the flattened neighborhoods of La Guaira and surrounding areas, it was civilians—neighbors, families, strangers—who had taken shovels, heavy equipment, ropes, and their bare hands to the mountains of concrete that had been homes and apartment buildings. The Venezuelan government's soldiers, firefighters, police, and military cadets appeared overwhelmed or absent from the hardest-hit zones, despite Acting President Delcy Rodríguez announcing on state television that more than 14,000 military and police personnel were patrolling the area. The gap between that claim and what people on the ground were witnessing fueled frustration and anger. International rescue teams from the United States, Mexico, Brazil, France, and El Salvador began arriving Saturday to fill the void, but they were arriving late into a crisis that had already claimed over a thousand lives.
In Catia La Mar, a man named Ezequiel Frontado stood looking at a dozen bodies laid out on the street Saturday morning, each covered with blankets salvaged from the rubble of nearby buildings. He was searching to see if any of them were his missing relatives. Elsewhere in La Guaira, Nazareth Jiménez sobbed as she watched neighbors use hammers and power tools to cut through concrete slabs, pleading for heavy machinery that could move the collapsed structures. "There are still people alive in there," she said, her voice breaking. In the city of Maiquetia, the desperation took other forms. A woman threw herself onto the ground to shield a package of diapers with her body. Crowds swarmed a civilian pickup truck distributing bread and water until a soldier intervened. A pharmacy parking lot became a makeshift shelter of tarps, hammers, and tents.
Yuleidy Cadenas, 28 years old, stood across the street from a collapsed public housing building on Saturday, waiting and hoping. She had fled barefoot from another building as it collapsed on Wednesday. Her mother's 12-story apartment tower had pancaked. "I got on top of the rubble and told them to yell back, and nobody did," she said. "Not my brother, nor my son or my mother." Omar Reyes, who lost around 20 family members, walked through the rubble where two of his children were buried. "I've been left alone in this life," he said.
The scale of the disaster extended far beyond the death toll. The International Organization for Migration estimated that up to 6.76 million people could be affected by the earthquakes—some 2 million of them in Caracas alone. The destruction was amplified by the quick succession of the two shallow quakes, which struck with barely enough time between them for people to process the first before the second hit. Simón Bolívar International Airport, which serves Venezuela's capital, was badly damaged. By Saturday, only one runway was operational as U.S. teams worked to repair it, a crucial bottleneck for bringing in aid and evacuating the most severely injured.
Jeremy Lewin, a senior State Department official overseeing foreign assistance, described the effort as "a race against the clock." The U.S. military was coordinating flights to bring in search and rescue workers, mobile hospitals, and supplies. Two 80-person search teams were already at work. A U.S. Navy transport ship was positioned off the Venezuelan coast, ready to receive airlifted survivors in need of medical attention. By midday Friday, authorities reported more than 3,300 injured and said they had rescued 243 people. The numbers were expected to climb as the search continued and as communication networks slowly came back online—some of the missing figures likely included people who were simply incommunicado, unable to reach family because cellphone signals had been knocked out.
The disaster posed an enormous political challenge for Rodríguez, who had taken office in January after the capture and removal of then-President Nicolás Maduro by the United States. Venezuela had been in economic freefall for more than a decade, and many citizens rejected the legitimacy of the political movement she represented. Now, in the country's darkest hour, the government's apparent unpreparedness and the visible absence of state resources in the most devastated areas were compounding the tragedy with anger and mistrust. The Loyce Pace, the International Red Cross' regional director for the Americas, noted that "people are still terrified to reenter what were their homes." Many continued to sleep on the streets. In some areas, traffic and motorcyclists—civilian and uniformed—disrupted search efforts, honking horns and revving engines while Mexican soldiers and volunteers pleaded for silence to listen for signs of life beneath the rubble. The window for finding survivors alive was closing, and Venezuela was running out of time.
Notable Quotes
There are still people alive in there.— Nazareth Jiménez, searching for siblings and relatives in La Guaira
I got on top of the rubble and told them to yell back, and nobody did, not my brother, nor my son or my mother.— Yuleidy Cadenas, 28, after her mother's apartment building collapsed
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that civilians are doing most of the digging, rather than the government?
Because time is everything in a disaster like this. The first three days are when people are still alive under the rubble. If the government can't mobilize fast enough, those people die. When neighbors are using hammers and shovels instead of heavy equipment, you're looking at a slower, less effective rescue operation. It signals that the state either doesn't have the capacity or isn't prioritizing the response.
The article mentions Acting President Rodríguez claimed 14,000 military and police were patrolling. Why would she say that if people on the ground weren't seeing them?
It's a credibility problem. She's trying to project control and competence during a crisis. But when people are standing in the rubble looking for their children and they don't see rescue teams, the gap between the official story and lived reality becomes obvious. It erodes trust at the exact moment when people need to believe their government has their back.
What does the political instability add to this disaster?
Venezuela was already fractured. The economy had been collapsing for years. Rodríguez took office just months ago after a controversial transition. Now, when the earthquake hits and the response looks inadequate, people aren't just grieving—they're also angry at a government they already didn't trust. The disaster becomes a referendum on whether the state can function at all.
The woman throwing herself on the diapers—what does that moment tell us?
It tells you that the disaster has stripped away normal social order. People are desperate for basic goods. A package of diapers becomes worth protecting with your body because you don't know when you'll get another one. It's not looting in the traditional sense. It's survival.
Why mention the motorcyclists honking during the rescue efforts?
Because even in the middle of a search for living people, normal life is intruding. The chaos is so complete that you can't even get silence to listen for survivors. It's a small detail that captures how overwhelmed and disorganized everything is.