JRS Indonesia’s Emergency Response to the Flores Earthquake

“Good afternoon… good afternoon…”

These were the cheerful greetings we heard along the road whenever our car slowed down near groups of children. They smiled and greeted us, strangers passing by. It was something simple, yet it felt deeply meaningful.

Warm smiles lit the faces of the children and people we met. Who would have known that behind those same faces were experiences that were anything but simple? The magnitude 7.7 earthquake that struck Flores on 15 August 2026, followed by a series of aftershocks, left people witnessing collapsed walls, school ceilings falling apart, and panic all around them. Yet those frightening experiences had not taken away their smiles or their warmth.

Ende became the starting point for JRS Indonesia’s emergency response to the Flores earthquake. We collaborated with JPIC SVD Ende, JPIC Onekore Parish, and the Onekore Parish Youth Group (OMK), who had already begun providing assistance. Working alongside them allowed us to follow the rhythm of the response already underway while identifying those still in need of support.

At the beginning of our presence, some people asked why JRS had chosen to work in Ende rather than in other areas that appeared to be more severely affected. The answer became clearer when we saw the conditions in the communities firsthand.

From the outside, Ende Regency might not have appeared heavily affected. But when we traveled into villages on the hills, we found many houses severely damaged and communities that had not yet received adequate assistance. Many families had evacuated on their own, putting up makeshift tents in front of their homes. In places like these, we felt the need to be present and bring what was most needed, such as tarpaulins and blankets.

 

 

This experience reminded me once again that in humanitarian work, it is not always easy to see who is most in need. Some places have visible damage and receive a great deal of attention. Others are home to people living in remote areas, in small communities, or in places where accessing assistance is difficult. They may not be seen as much, but that does not mean their needs are any smaller.

Schools also became a focus area. We found that schools had received very little assistance, even though children still had to continue learning despite damaged buildings. We distributed tarpaulins and learning materials to several schools. The children’s joyful faces as they received their packages became an invaluable reward for us.

One place that left the strongest impression on me was Nirananga Catholic Elementary School in Zozozea Village, Nangapanda District. The school had only Grades 1, 3, and 5, with 17 students in total. Despite its small size and remote rural location, the school continued to operate. Following the earthquake, classes were held on the classroom veranda.

When the JRS team arrived with books and stationery for every student, along with tarpaulins for the school, the teachers and students were visibly surprised. The principal, Mrs Alfonsa Gaudensia Mia, said that they had never received assistance before. For me, that encounter reminded me that even the smallest gesture of attention can mean so much to those who have long been overlooked.

Three weeks passed almost without us noticing, and with hardly a break. Yet the closeness that grew among us—both within JRS and with the teams at the response posts from different organizations—felt like being among old friends.

It felt as though everything had already been prepared and planned. We were welcomed at Onekore Parish, where the parish priest had known JRS’s work from his time serving in Africa. We met the SVD Provincial, who knew JRS’s former Director well. It felt like entering a family of our own. We felt welcomed, and we shared a drive to reach those who were remote, overlooked, or not yet “reached” by others because they were few in number or hard to access.

This experience also helped us understand the restlessness felt by people who witness disasters from afar. When disaster struck Sumatra, I was in Papua and felt an urge to fly there immediately. I wanted to volunteer, to do whatever was still needed. But because that was not possible, the restlessness remained.

Now I understand why, no matter how small their contribution, people want to be involved. Some collect books, transfer money, help with data collection, or offer whatever they can contribute. It is as though being involved itself becomes a form of healing. And it is true. When we help, it is not only others who are helped. We are also helped to move beyond the sense of helplessness we feel when we see our brothers and sisters suffering. Helping allows us to feel that we can still be meaningful to others. Even when we are simply extending the hands of others—delivering assistance entrusted to us by many people to those who need it—that assistance still carries meaning.

Yet from those who experienced the disaster themselves, I also learned that we must keep making room for them to give and to feel that they, too, can be meaningful to others.

Despite their own limitations, local residents offered us food and drinks several times. One person said, “You have been fighting for us until late at night. What does our humanity mean if we let you go home hungry?”

Those simple words reminded me that they are not merely recipients of assistance. They still have something to give. They can still care for others.

They can also still be grateful. Grateful for being given another chance to live, and for the sense of safety they could still experience amid the disaster. Their memories of the 1992 earthquake and tsunami, which was even more devastating, have taught them not to take nature for granted and to rebuild better, adapting to the disaster risks that may come again.

And so, this journey was not only about the assistance we brought. It was about encounters. About going to places that may not be seen by many, opening our eyes to those who live far away, being willing to give our time to listen, and accepting that the people we come to accompany also have something to give us.

 

 

Presence, closeness, and care can bring joy, relief, and even healing. And perhaps, in the end, this is what we learned from this journey: helping heals.

Not because we are always able to resolve another person’s suffering, but because, within our limitations, we choose to be present—to see, to listen, and to walk with them.

As of 21 September 2026, JRS Indonesia has received IDR 1,043,479,343 in donations.

Assistance has been distributed to 520 families, reaching 1,739 people, as well as 19 schools serving 1,243 students across four districts in two regencies. Assistance for affected residents included rice, cooking oil, meat floss, toothbrushes and toothpaste, laundry soap, biscuits, massage oil, tarpaulins, blankets, sleeping mats, wheelchairs, and baby mosquito nets, provided based on needs identified in the field.

For school communities, JRS distributed stationery and learning materials for students, including exercise books, drawing books, pencils, pens, erasers, and crayons or colored pencils, as well as biscuits and milk. Each class also received supporting supplies such as markers, manila paper, whiteboard erasers, and adhesive bandages. We also provided tarpaulins to meet schools’ needs.

JRS Indonesia extends our gratitude for every prayer, concern, and contribution from the many institutions and individuals who continue to strengthen our efforts to be present, accompany, and walk alongside those affected by the earthquake.