‘The water rose swiftly [on 8 November]. From where I stood, I could see people waving at me, begging for help. One by one they were devoured by the waves. Fortunately, my immediate family survived, but my friends, my relatives, my fellow Taclobanons, most of them have gone.’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
‘Around 5am, the wind was already strong. By 6am, the water suddenly rose and came inside the house. That was when we panicked and ran outside, but we were carried away by the water, and had to hold on to a fallen coconut tree. I have seven children; the youngest were evacuated before the typhoon hit. We lost two of them during the flood, but luckily found them afterwards. My aunt did not survive, however, and we don’t know where my niece and nephew are.’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
‘Before the typhoon, I took my family to my aunt’s house for their safety. I was left at home. When the water rose, it brought ships with it. I saw a ship hit my aunt’s house. There were lots of people inside, including my wife, my three children and my aunt. They all died.
‘I just hope our president takes a look at our situation. Rescuers and relief workers have still not been here, 10 days after the storm. We saw only members of the department of health, clearing the bodies. But those who are needed to return this place to normal? They are nowhere to be seen.’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
‘The day before was sunny; there were clear skies and there was no wind. It was hard to believe there would be a storm. But we heard the government’s announcement and made it to the sports stadium. Today is our first time back at home. Everything has been taken by the water. Nothing is left.’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
‘My wife and children had been evacuated when the typhoon hit. I was the only one left. I almost drowned. I hung on to anything I could get hold of, anything: logs, floating containers. Now, we do not have enough food; there is no water, no medicine for our children. And we have lost our homes. They’re gone.’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
People queueing for a relief distribution of mats and sandals provided by a Canadian church Photograph: Gideon Mendel
‘The night before the typhoon hit, we were evacuated, but my eldest son and husband were left behind. They managed to join us the next day, but both had been injured. It was only two days after the typhoon when relief goods reached us. But we had nowhere to stay; we just made a temporary shelter out of tarpaulins.’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
‘When the storm hit, more than 100 of our neighbours were in our house. They’d left a church when it was destroyed and moved to a school, but then its roof was torn off. They were soaking, so I gave them my clothes. This is the convenience store we owned. When we checked it after the storm, everything had gone.’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
‘We were evacuated to Tacloban’s sports stadium during the typhoon, but came back here afterwards because my sister-in-law and her family were left behind. She lost her three children. When we came back here, the place had been destroyed. Everything was gone. Everything was back to zero. How can we start all over again?’ Photograph: Gideon Mendel
