In Canada, summer downpours can spoil many a long-awaited camping trip.   

But in Ethiopia last year, July rains triggered three colossal landslides—the deadliest on record for that country. They buried upward of 300 people under sliding dirt in the mountainous Gofa region.  

The suffering they caused, the dreams they destroyed, were unthinkable. Here’s how the disaster played out in the village of Geze.

The woman who told the story    

I have the utmost respect for World Vision Communicator Hilina Hailu, who chronicled the 2024 Ethiopian landslide aftermath. It was the first disaster she’d witnessed.  

“As a storyteller, I feel I have lost my strength and find myself in tears,” she wrote from the scene of devastation, “uncontrollably weeping and suffering with my fellow countrymen and women.” 

Yet tell the story Hilina Hailu did. It’s her brave work I’ll quote throughout the article below.  

What happened after the rains    

Before the landslides, the community’s hillside was active with life of all kinds. There were trees and houses. Children played and learned, as parents went about their daily work. 

After the landslides, the slope was bare—save for survivors walking about in a daze, weeping in groups, or standing very still.  

Authorities soon ordered the area evacuated, to preserve life in case of future slides. Hundreds moved to a nearby safe space. 

Here, Hilina Hailu discovered 17-year-old “Martha” (not her real name) who was sitting by herself. “I’ve lost my mother,” sobbed the girl into Hilina’s arms. Small screams punctuated her sentences.  

“Mom meant everything to me. She raised me with love and care, sent me to school, and met all my needs.”  

Martha had dreamed of becoming a doctor. Her father died three years ago. She has no siblings. “Now I have no one left,” she said. 

Clawing with bare hands 

In a landslide, seconds matter when people are trapped underneath. There’s no time to wait for rescue crews with machinery. If you have a shovel, you grab it. Otherwise, you dig frantically with your hands.  

“Mom was trying to help others whose houses were buried by the first landslide,” said Martha, “when the second landslide came and buried her.” Martha’s mother was one of hundreds who died in that second slide.   

Martha’s house and belongings were also buried. "Nothing is left for me,” she cried. “The only thing I have is the clothes and shoes I am wearing right now.” 

At the temporary shelter  

Soon, local authorities evacuated the volatile area. At the safe space nearby, Hilina took in the massive scale of humanitarian need.  

Thousands of people had no place to shelter, little to eat or drink. Many were in urgent need of medical attention—for physical and psychological wounds alike. Unaccompanied or orphaned children needed protection.  

World Vision Ethiopia sprang to action to help provide the basics, but quickly sent out the call that more assistance would be needed. The broader response included local authorities and other relief agencies.  

This was the deadliest landslide recorded in Ethiopia to date, but there could be more. The country is highly vulnerable to climate-related crises. 

Local crisis, global problem   

In 2024, scientists recorded more than 700 landslides around the world. Nearly 5,000 people died—the highest number on record for our planet, say experts, noting that: 

• Landslides occur in hilly or mountainous regions.  
• They’re triggered by changes to the land’s surface.  
• These include rainfall, snowmelt, earthquakes or volcanic activity. 
• Climate change threatens to increase annual landslide activity.  
• Human causes like mining or construction can also contribute. 

Here in Canada, landslides disproportionately impact Indigenous communities and rural families, particularly in regions such as southern British Colombia.  

Canada’s dramatic annual increase in wildfires plays a role. Without forests, hillsides lose their anchors and are prone to sliding.  

It’s rare for landslides in remote areas to make national news headlines, since they don’t affect large population centres. But for any community, no matter how small, landslides can mean heartbreak and despair.  

“Some families have lost their children, the ones who provided hope for the future,” wrote Hilina, battling with her own anguish as she covered the Ethiopian disaster. 

“This creates an emptiness that is difficult to replace … casting dark shadows over their goals and dreams.”