In brief
On 10 August 2026 a 7.4‑magnitude earthquake ripped through the Colombian city of Cali, bringing the Torres del Limonar apartment building to its knees. Efraín Gallego, 85, is awaiting the rescue of his 80‑year‑old brother, who remains trapped beneath the rubble. Rescue crews, soldiers and volunteers work tirelessly, shouting for survivors and clearing debris one hand‑saw at a time. The mayor declared a night curfew to expedite operations, while volunteers such as 19‑year‑old Alejandro Mahecha provide water, tools and moral support. Despite the grim scene, the city’s collective determination and the relentless hope of families keep the search alive.
The 80‑year‑old brother of Efraín Gallego is buried beneath the rubble of the Torres del Limonar building, which collapsed during a 7.4‑magnitude earthquake in Cali on 10 August.
Efraín, who shares the town’s grief, tells reporters that every warning about a survivor rekindles a fragile hope; his voice breaks as he recalls his brother’s name and the weight of the silence that surrounds the shrouded debris.
Rescue teams, armed with handsaws and shovels, gather at the canyon‑like ruin, raising their hands in a solemn “silence” gesture to give those below a chance to shout or make noise. The ever‑present hope that at least two people are alive persists, even as minutes slip away with no answer from below.
The mayor of Cali, Alejandro Éder, declared a nighttime curfew to accelerate rescue operations and police now scout for survivors with volunteers—hammers, wheelbarrows, whole bundles of water, utensils and sort‑of‑civic‑spirit supplies.
Among the volunteers is 19‑year‑old Alejandro Mahecha, who arrived at the collapsed site the same morning the earthquake struck. He offers water and tools to rescuers and helps clear streets for easier evacuation.
Because the roof collapsed across the front of Torres del Limonar, it has become a symbol of the tragedy, especially among the city’s estimated two million inhabitants. The city authorities estimate 95 dead, and at least 25 survivors remain trapped under the rubble.
The curfew and the air‑filled silence become a stark backdrop, with rescuers pausing only when figures raise their arms to signify a person shouting—an echo that throbbed throughout the rubble.
Rescue efforts continue. One rescuer, James Velasco, told reporters that they had extracted ten people so far, and are carving tunnels to reach survivors. Two people have been detected alive, with a need to free one who is trapped by a locked leg.
In the quiet after the storm, the city rallies together. The collective volunteer effort—humongous in numbers—stays ready to offer water, food, tools, and equipment, which keeps the search alive.
