By Fatima Tuz Zehra MUSCAT, Sultanate of Oman – When a group of 11th graders at the Bangladesh School Muscat made their way to an advanced chemistry exam on June 6, they had no idea they would not be able to go home for 24 hours, or that some students would have no homes left to return to.
A tropical cyclone slammed that morning into this tiny country on the Arabian Sea. Heavy thunderstorms, powerful winds and high waves swept away cars, ruined shops, buckled roads, and flooded homes with muck that had been carried in by the rain and the waves. Named Gonu, the cyclone was the first in the Gulf region for decades and many Omanis had never seen such destruction before. Two days earlier, Oman TV warned against the possibility of the cyclone Gonu, then somewhere near the island of Masirah, hitting Muscat in the next few days. One day before the students’ chemistry exam, the cyclone had become the talk of the town. "I was obviously nervous about the exam but I was also scared because I did not want my dad to drive in such weather," later recalled Taniya Yasmin, 15, one of the 11th graders. The rainstorm became stronger and by noon all roads leading out from the Ghubra region, where the school is located, were blocked. "I just went out to see the condition and the wind gave me such a push that I almost fell into deep water," said Taslima Yasmin, Taniya’s twin sister. The students stayed in the school until 4 p.m., eating biscuits from the school's store for lunch. Afterward, they were taken to the nearby house of a fellow student. A month earlier, Oman had been awash in rumours of an impending tsunami that never appeared. So, when warnings came later that a cyclone could hit, some residents refused to believe such a thing could happen. Others flocked to supermarkets to buy bread, water and other provisions.Most government and business leaders took heed, though. All the servers of Oman Cables Industry, Oman's leading manufacturer, were shut down. Sultan Qaboos bin Sa'id ordered work suspended for the government and the private sector until the following Saturday. Several schools in each region were turned into emergency evacuation centers. The Royal Oman Police constantly urged people through television and radio announcements to “support, cooperate and communicate.” The rain began to pour during the night of June 5. By dawn, the roads were nearly deserted. The government had declared a red alert and urged people to not leave their homes except in the case of emergency. Still, the Advanced Subsidiary students of the Bangladesh School Muscat headed to school amid the heavy rainfall. "This will be some exam to remember!" said Saanya Sequeira, 17. The rainstorm continued, flooding the streets and blocking the roads. Cars were swept from parking lots and many were destroyed. The level of water on the roads kept rising and soon even four-wheel drive vehicles and mini-buses were completely submerged. Electricity was cut off in the affected areas and communication was difficult due to the weak mobile signals. "The weather was so bad that I had no sleep all night!" Taniya Yasmin said. "We kept checking the level of water by looking at a drowned bus." By midnight, the rain had slowed to a drizzle and the wind was dying away. Gradually, the water level receded, uncovering the destruction. Many roads and flyovers were smashed; grit and debris covered the others. Shops were ruined, windows shattered, walls covered in mud, and merchandise destroyed. The human toll: 49 dead and 27 missing. "I've never seen such a thing before, except on the TV,” said a 17-year-old known only as Mohiuddin, one of the students stranded in Ghubra. The next day, government workers and rescue organizations began cleaning up and trying to provide water to areas where supplies had been disrupted. Crowds of people swarmed to places where water was available. Traffic clogged the roads that were not destroyed or under reconstruction. Returning to school to take their re-scheduled chemistry exams on June 8, the 11th graders shared their stories of surviving the disaster. "I have no home,” said Nazimuddin, also an 11th grader, who was wearing casual clothing because he could not have his school uniform washed. “I've been studying in the streets for this exam." |