Two weeks since twin earthquakes struck Venezuela, more than 3,800 people are now confirmed to have died. But thousands more are still unaccounted for. Most of the international aid teams have now gone, leaving local people frantically searching through rubble for their missing loved ones.
We met one couple in the worst-hit area of La Guaira. They had gone out to the shops leaving their two children playing at home when the quake hit and they still hold out hope of finding them alive.
AI Generated·May contain errors
Video Summary
AI Generated
In the aftermath of a devastating earthquake in La Guaira, families and volunteers continue a desperate search for survivors amidst ruins. Despite the passage of two weeks and a lack of government support, grieving parents and exhausted civilians rely on faith and intuition to find loved ones buried under collapsed residential buildings.
A mother's intuition, that's nearly all Diana has left to hold on to.
That her two sons, crushed in the rubble over two weeks ago, are still alive.
Those left digging in La Guaira aren't ready to give up.
They pray for divine intervention.
Are you with faith?
Of course, with a lot of faith.
With a lot of faith, a lot of faith and hope.
It's been 14 days, right?
14 strong days, day and night, here.
From day zero, from one o'clock.
This happened, we haven't moved anywhere,
not to bathe, not to sit down, nothing.
Everything has been here.
Diana's boys, Juan and Deikar, who are 8 and 13 years old,
were playing PlayStation when the quake hit.
Their parents were out doing the shopping.
Their father, Jose, has spent every day singing, speaking through the rubble.
He even made it to the hall that is now their living room,
where they last saw the children.
But they're not there.
All that is left is one of the boys' sets of headphones.
To the family, that's a sign of hope.
They must have moved rooms.
There were 12, 12-story buildings here
that were built between 2010 and 2012
by Hugo Chavez for poor people here.
Now it's a tomb of hundreds of people, if not thousands.
Most of the help comes from neighbours and civilians
dressed in T-shirts and jeans, with pickaxes and hand saws.
People here say most of the international search and rescue teams have left
and the government never really turned up at all.
Night falls and another day passes.
A Mexican team with detection dogs were called to search.
People here had heard knocking.
Hopes were raised and then dashed.
For Diana, this is not a reality she's willing to accept,
that her children are likely dead.
Instead, she sends them away.
Hope against hope, that's all they have left.
The next morning, we head to another search site just two blocks away.
Unbelievably, 16 people are said to be still alive
in a shop crushed under this building.
A fist in the air, now a direction for complete silence.
For workers to down tools and cut mortars.
Precious moments for rescuers to listen.
The rescue workers were just talking with the people trapped inside
and you could clearly hear how they were saying,
don't worry, we're going to rescue you.
But time is well and truly against them.
Volunteers caked in dust are exhausted and dehydrated.
Reaching the survivors without the building collapsing further
is painstaking and dangerous.
The smell has become unbearable here.
Bodies rotting in 35 degree heat.
The official death toll of 4,000 only counts for those bodies retrieved.
But there's many thousands still under the rubble.
There are warnings of a potential sanitary crisis.
Families are worried now that any chance of a miracle will be crushed.
But the government's plan to move in and begin clearing the sites.
Bulldozers have arrived, but they say they are not leaving.
With the state no longer on their side
and a shortage of international support,
where else is there to turn but their faith?