Leila Molana-Allen:
Hamza's only surviving brother, Abdul Hadi, now cares for him. There's no work, but they have found a small room to stay in. The alternative is a life spent under a thin tarp, like their neighbors.
Much of the worst-hit area remains in ruins. With the economy already destroyed after 13 years of war, there's no money, and tight import controls mean scant materials to rebuild with; 800,000 people are still waiting to be rehoused. They live in filthy, disease-ridden camps, wading through freezing mud and breathing in a toxic smoke from burning whatever they can to stay warm.
This isn't the first time Nofa and Abdo's family has been displaced. They fled the Idlib countryside after her son was killed in a Russian airstrike. Since then, they have raised their three young grandchildren, Jinan, Ufran and Ibrahim, alone. The town of Jindires wasn't home, but at least they had a roof over their heads.
But when the earthquake hit, that new home collapsed.
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