Brumadinho mud, the drama of a mother and the eye of a photographer – 05/02/2019

By Leo Correa. The badociated press.

The first day I covered the fall of a dam in southeastern Brazil, I was talking on the phone with my editor and a woman came crying.

"Sir, sir, can you help me find my son?" He asked, looking at me with glbady eyes that looked empty. Do you know where my son is?

I did not know what to say. Then I remembered the place of badistance that the authorities had established in the city center and I told him to go there, but he replied that he was already gone.

Another son of the woman approached and both left.

As I watched them leave, I would have liked to have another reaction: to have thought of something better to tell them. But I did not know what.

This family was like hundreds of others. They needed to hope that their loved ones were alive while fearing the worst.

January 25, the collapse of a dam in an iron mine owned by the Brazilian giant Vale released tens of thousands of pounds of reddish mud on a large area of ​​Brumadinho.

He buried a cafeteria where hundreds of employees would have eaten and razed several buildings in the area, including a boarding house.

The authorities have found more than 120 bodies and more than 200 people are still missing.

Shortly after the meeting with this woman, I went to a region where mud has buried a market of fresh produce. Rescuers withdrew a body so crushed that he enters a basket of fruits.

The weather was wet and the mud mounds, which contained the remains of the mine, produced a stench that reminded me of blood.

Two days later, I went to Corrego do Feijao, the most affected area. The rescuers had found a collective with several people inside.

Twenty firefighters moved carefully on the mud, several meters deep, to avoid getting caught.

Helicopters flew over the area and brought them tools to cut the metal. About 8 hours later, they pulled out the first corpse.

Looking at the operation, I saw several other helicopters pbading by, each with a corpse. I stopped counting at 10.

The mud smelled blood again, but now there was a strong smell of rotting bodies.

The next day, in the support center, I saw the woman of the first day. She is called Malvina Firmina Nunes, she is a housekeeper, she is 61 years old and 4 children.

He was still looking for Peterson Nunes Ribeiro, 35, who was working in equipment distribution in the mining complex.

2 women tried to calm her down.

"I called him on the phone, but he did not answer me," he said. I want to talk to him. Where is my son?

This time I cried.

The next day, I went to his home in the nearby town of Tejuco, where there is also a mine.

Malvina told me about Peterson: that he had found work in the Brumadinho complex 9 months ago after being unemployed; I had 3 children and a stable partner.

Now everyone in the family has them fear of mines, especially the one near you. It was painful to see his grief.

Leave me there, Lord! Take me! Malvina shouted, standing by the window. I have already lived too much. I do not want to live anymore.

At another time, she knelt and started praying while her son Fernando watched her cry.

With him, I went to a mud-torn place to see if there was news of his brother. And nothing.

Together, we attended another rescue operation. Another body removed by a helicopter.

"I'm going to find my brother," said Fernando. And he described Vale officials as "murderers". The executive chairman of the mining company acknowledged that security measures were not enough.

Back home, Fernando put his mother to bed.

"I read, rest," the woman asked me when I was leaving. Why do not you sleep here? I lost a son, but who knows: maybe today I've won another one.

2 days later, Fernando told me that they had found his brother's body.